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But as she stood there, watching the last of the straws fall to the ground, she felt almost euphoric. She’d asked to be trained on the weapon because she had an enemy that wanted her dead. She needed to be able to protect herself. But as she stared at the remnants of the target and smelled the burned straw, a window of understanding opened where her brother was concerned, as well as Duncan and all the warriors she’d known. The power she held in her hand, the kind of weapon that men had used for hundreds of years, began to feel not like something external but something that was part of her. She supposed this had to be the way warriors felt, the exhilaration of being able to protect themselves, the ones they loved, and the land on which they lived.
The concept of the war began to shift in her mind, if just a little bit. Maybe that had been Luken’s purpose in separating her from Endelle, to get her to a place where she could potentially protect herself from the enemy.
She held the shotgun at waist level the way the wreckers had done, using the brute strength of their arms to support the shot when they fired. She didn’t have that kind of muscle, but she could imagine the power each man felt as he faced his adversary.
And she liked it.
She spent the next hour reloading her weapon and firing. Luken even brought out his own camp chair and sat down beside Duncan, letting her do her own thing, shot after shot. Another crew kept piling up bales of hay for her.
With each shot, a sense of confidence grew that maybe she wouldn’t be killed by wreckers after all.
Then she traded places with Duncan. He hadn’t had the opportunity to fire the weapons yet, and he definitely needed to be upgraded.
She sat in the camp chair he’d vacated and had a solid view of his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and the black leather kilt that had always turned her on. She didn’t know what it was about a man in a kilt, but the look warmed her up.
She realized his wavy, dark brown hair was to his shoulders now and almost ready to be worn in the cadroen. Most of the Militia Warriors kept their hair military short, but Duncan had clearly been moving in the direction of the What-Bees for some time. All the Warriors of the Blood had long hair.
She felt the breh-hedden moving inside her, driving her toward Duncan in ways she’d never before experienced. Sure, they’d had great chemistry in the past. But this felt like more, as though a spiritual element had combined with the physical to make her want him not just with her body but with her mind and soul as well.
She felt a profound desire to cover him, to spread herself on top of him, palm to palm, her legs balanced on his, her abdomen connected from her breasts to the tops of her thighs.
This was Duncan, the man she’d loved deeply, fought with, yearned for. And now all those memories and sensations felt amplified in the same way that she could expand the capacity of the shotgun.
She wondered what making love with him would be like now, with his increased power and her apparent emerging abilities. Would it change the physical nature of their time together in bed? The thought was so intriguing that desire began to rise, a swirl of sensation compounded by the sight of him in his kilt, holding the gun in hand near his waist, and firing at the target.
He reloaded, but this time when he fired he added his preternatural power. The explosion made her jump.
She heard him say, “Holy shit!”
His back stiffened suddenly and when he turned to stare at her, she knew exactly what had happened; he’d caught her scent, her new, tell-all olfactory barrage that told him exactly what she was feeling.
About three seconds later, his answering response hit the air and she felt stomach-punched with his spicy-cider scent. In a very languid way, her knees parted, just a few inches, but he’d seen the movement.
To Luken standing next to him, he said, “We’ll pick this up later. I need a shower and I really need to talk some things over with Rachel.”
Luken nodded. “You got it. Just let me know when you want to resume training.”
She rose to her feet, wondering what the hell she was doing. Was she really going to get sucked back into a physical relationship with Duncan, open that door, poke at that stupid hornet’s nest?
But as he started walking toward her, his chin lowered and his gaze fixed on her, she knew that was exactly what she was going to do. In other circumstances, she could have withstood the temptation, but the breh-hedden had her sex in an uproar and she needed Duncan. Now.
~ ~ ~
Duncan walked Rachel to the landing platforms then folded her to his home in Paradise Valley, straight to his bedroom. He had a small estate located on one of several large lakes in the northern part of Metro Phoenix Two.
The walls were made of rough gray stone and a waterfall to the right of the bed kept the space humid, a relief from the dry desert air.
Glancing around, he saw that his housekeeper had been there. He had excellent support staff.
The house was fairly new, which meant that Rachel had never seen it before. He was curious what she would think.
She turned in a circle. “Gideon has stone like this in his house. I love it.”
“I do, too.”
She moved toward the window overlooking the lake. The sun was setting and the water reflected a layer of orange-violet clouds. Lights from a few other estates could be seen in the distance.
“Beautiful view,” she said. “But what are we doing?”
