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As the images moved in swift circles now, the structure of a complex counter-spell at last emerged.
She laid it within her consciousness, so that she’d always know its exact sequence and composition.
With everything in place, she left her meditation and opened her eyes.
A soft wind full of magic and power blew through the bedroom so that Ian’s hair was lifted away from his face. His golden skin was flushed, his muscles pumped, and a sheen of sweat covered his body.
“Ian, you look so different.”
“And you have the most beautiful red aura. Whatever this is between us, Regan, power is what we create together. And for that, I’m grateful. I’m convinced we’ll be able to do this thing.”
Here was the man she’d always loved. Those feelings had never stopped and she knew she’d compared every man she’d ever dated to Ian. In many ways, she should have been drawn to a sensitive fae artist or teacher. Instead, only a warrior would do and not just any, but the Mastyr of Camberlaune.
“I need you to take me back to the area of the gorge near the fortress,” she said. “I wasn’t able to see beyond the first layer and I think I need to be present with the mist to construct each sequence.”
Slowly, he drew his hands away from her. The sensation made her smile, because it felt like the connection was made of taffy, giving a strange tug as he let go. When he no longer touched her, the shared power faded quickly then disappeared.
His gaze swept from one shoulder up and over her head then down the other side. “Your red glow has disappeared.”
She nodded. “And the breeze in the room is gone.” She settled against the pillows, becoming aware she was still naked in bed.
But something had changed. She glanced at the windows. The shutters were fully retracted and the forest was dark. She searched her internal clock and realized with a start how much time had passed.
Shifting her gaze back to Ian, her eyes widened. “Was I really meditating for two hours?”
He nodded. “You were.”
“I barely had an awareness of time passing.”
“No worries, Regan. I could sense it was important for you to keep going. And as soon as we’ve had a proper meal, I’ll take you to the fortress.”
“Maybe we should go now.”
But he shook his head. “Trust me in this. We both need to eat first because I have a feeling we’re facing another long night.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Once he’d shared a substantial meal with Regan, of scrambled eggs, sausage, and thick slices of toasted cottage bread, he prepared for the night. While she showered, he contacted Ben to see how active the Invictus were.
Fortunately, they’d concentrated their efforts in the far eastern reaches of his realm, a place near the smaller Venaset Mountain range dominated by his Shifter Brigade. Stone was already in the region and helped to direct both the Brigade and his Vampire Guard from village to village as the wraith-pairs attacked.
He chose not to tell either Stone or Ben about what was going on with Regan. Some instinct warned him he should protect their purpose, at least for now. Besides, until they actually had an effect on the mist there was nothing to tell.
He showered in the guest room and put on his Guard uniform, minus the woven shirt. When he’d gotten the hawk tattoo, he’d decided to forgo wearing the shirt. Most of his doneuses had made a lot of noise about the tattoo and for a solid year, he’d had more sex because of it than any previous time. And he’d never lacked.
Regan had spread her fingers over each of the feathers, then felt up his pecs and sucked on him.
Though he’d been with a lot of women, out of all of them, Regan had his number. He couldn’t explain it, and this had been true long before the whole blood rose thing, but she made him feel things no other woman could. Which meant that anytime a date of his reminded him of Regan, even in the smallest way, the comparison began. Invariably, the woman fell short.
If he actually believed in soulmates, he’d say Regan was it.
Except that he didn’t trust her. He couldn’t. She’d let him down by keeping him with her when he should have been out battling. And he couldn’t forgive her because of all the lives lost.
When she emerged from the bedroom, he saw that she’d swept her light brown hair away from her face which emphasized her strong cheekbones. Her beauty struck him all over again, causing his heart to squeeze up tight once more. Her large brown eyes widened as she looked him up and down.
She smiled. “Love you without the shirt, Ian. Between the tattoo and the black leather of your sleeveless coat … wow.”
His gaze drifted down her skintight jeans and black ankle boots. He knew the shapes of those legs, and what they’d felt like wrapped around his hips as he drove into her.
