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For the next few minutes, he chatted about the arrangements. Seeing their eagerness and how relaxed each was, he added, “By the way. Any of you know where Ben is right now? He took off from the gorge saying he had business at one of his homes and I’ve been to each but can’t find him. I don’t suppose he’s checked in?”
Each shook his head, except for Scott who had compressed his lips and looked ready to burst with information. Trolls excelled at gossip.
Ian didn’t go to him first. Instead, he kept fishing. “I know he has a townhouse here, a small farm near Clarefield and a beach cottage to the south. Anywhere else I could look, maybe someplace few people know about?”
The three fae shrugged their shoulders.
Scott’s face had turned bright red from withholding information. For trolls, the sharing of any kind of news or details was one of the great pleasures in life.
Ian didn’t press him, not in front of the others. Instead, he headed to the door. “I’m not too concerned. When he shows up, tell him to give me a shout.”
He moved into the hallway, but only a few feet, and pretended to be checking emails on his cell. He was pretty sure the troll wouldn’t be far behind.
The door to the Communication Center creaked open and Ian lifted his gaze to Scott. The troll closed the door behind him, then tip-toed over to Ian. He cast furtive glances left and right, but the hall was deserted. Scott would have made a terrible spy.
Ian held his gaze. “I suspected you might have something to tell me.”
The troll bounced from one foot to the next. “It’s something I figured out a while back. A friend of mine does contract work around Mercata and got a call to work on a property just north of there in the mountains. At first he wouldn’t tell me who his client was.”
“And you learned it was Mastyr Ben?” Ian was pretty sure Ben would have wiped the workers’ minds the last day of construction. Ian said as much to the troll.
Scott’s head bobbed. “Here’s the thing. My friend let Ben’s name slip over a couple of pints just two days before Mastyr Ben took care of his memory. I’ve remained silent, because Ben ought to have his privacy.” He then shifted his gaze away from Ian and chewed on his thick lower lip.
“There’s more, isn’t there? As in you might know how to get there?”
Scott nodded, but this time he looked guilty as hell.
Ian patted his shoulder. “I won’t tell Ben how I found his home, I promise. But I really need to talk to him. It’s about Margetta, something he should know.”
With the mention of the Ancient Fae and a hint this might have something to do with the ongoing war, Scott’s expression lightened. “I followed him home one night,” he confessed. “I know it was wrong. But when he took his car instead of flying, I couldn’t help myself.” Very troll.
Ian addressed the only important issue. He knew where Mercata was, but he wanted confirmation. “So, we’re talking the Venaset Range?”
“Yes. Not far from the hamlet of Warrejet.” He then gave detailed directions that sent Ian’s heartrate skyrocketing.
“Don’t worry about Ben. I won’t reveal my source. Okay?”
When Scott returned to the center, Ian levitated along the hall then shoved the front door wide. He hit the skies once more.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d told so many lies. Not that he cared. Right now, he needed to get to Regan before Ben bonded with her. Nothing else mattered.
He flew as fast as he could to the east, to Mercata. But what would he find once he arrived?
~ ~ ~
Sitting on the side of Ben’s bed, Regan worked hard to hold her meditative state. She found that as long as she stayed there, she was impervious to the bond Ben was attempting to forge.
The problem was he’d taken to hurting her in an attempt to bring her back.
He slapped her again, hard across the face. She fell to her side, then righted herself, yet somehow her meditation held. Ben’s mating vibration once more flowed through her body, hunting for hers. But the meditation allowed her to keep it hidden.
For the moment, she was safe but it was only a reprieve. Each strike of his hand became more painful, more jarring. She knew it wouldn’t be long before he discovered that with enough force he could disrupt her concentration completely.
At the same time, she had to battle her own powerful desire to rise like a geyser and embrace Ben with both arms. The urge, because she was a blood rose, was nearly overwhelming. She’d felt the same way with Stone when he’d arrived unexpectedly at Ian’s gorge house.
Ben’s voice rolled through the room. “Come back to me, Regan. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need you.”
The core of her being shuddered with a compulsion to do what he asked of her. Regardless, she remained very still, keeping her mind quiet, and sublimating her blood rose drive.
