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“Others?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Nannies, tutors, therapists, and later, it was boyfriends who accused me of paying more attention to my work than to them. They weren’t wrong. Is this why? Are you the reason for my fascination with wolves?”
“I don’t know. That’s no lie,” he insisted when she frowned. “I think we’re both being manipulated by an outside force.”
“You’re talking about magic again, aren’t you?”
“Yes, andI’m not talking about those who called themselves wiccans or pagans. Mages—whether male or female—are always human, and they’re incredibly powerful, able to tap into the elements of the earth around them. Many practice in virtual obscurity, living longer than most as a by-product of their work, but they eventually die. Those that dabble in the dark arts use blood-spells to steal life force from other humans and paranormals to keep themselves young and prolong their lives.”
“Do you realize how insane that sounds?”Dark circles under her eyes made her skin appear paler. They were also a testament to the stress she’d been under since they’d met. She was running on nerves and pure grit.
“Yes, but it’s the truth.” And there was a lot more she still needed to be told. “We’re linked, you and I. It was both instinct and magic that drew me to you and caused you to paint me.”
“Linked? How?”
“I’ll explain everything, but we need to deal with the most pressing problem.”
“Solange?”
“Yes.”
“Is she truly a mage? Even asking that sounds wild. If there are werewolves and mages running around, why don’t we know about them?”
Unable to keep his distance any longer, he moved over to sit beside her. “Sightings of werewolves are rare and relegated to folklore and tabloid fodder. We do whatever is necessary to keep it that way. Trust me when I tell you it’s safer for everyone. Humans greatly outnumber us. As powerful as we are, if they believed we were real, we’d be hunted, possibly into extinction, but not before a war bloodier than you can begin to imagine. We’re not the only paranormal creatures roaming the Earth. There are those capable of annihilating everyone. If they got involved…”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. “You’re right. This is like something out of a movie, but it’s real. It’s my life. I’m really in danger, aren’t I?”
He took hold of her purse strap and pulled. She clung to it, playing a brief game of tug-of-war before giving up. He set the bag on the table and took her hand, wanting nothing between them. Her fingers were icy cold. He brought it to his chest, flattening her palm on the tattoo centered over his heart. “Never from me.”
“Why because you’re the gray wolf and we’re somehow linked?”
“Yes.” The muscles in his shoulders bunched. It wasn’t a lie. The urge to protect her battled with the need to guard himself and the other lone wolves. The more time they spent together, the more he believed she was an innocent victim in all of this, a pawn in a deadly game she hadn’t chosen to play.
“I can’t believe you have the same marking I painted.” The tip of one of her fingers stroked the edges of the design. “Does that—does that mean you’ve always known about me?”
The tattoo began to tingle, making it hard to concentrate. He was as hard as a damn spike. If she looked at his lap, there was no way she’d miss his arousal. “No, I had no idea who you were until I walked into the gallery.” That much he could give her. “Why you’ve dreamed about me is as much a mystery to me as it is to you.”
As curious as he was to delve more deeply into the subject, he wouldn’t press. Not now. He hoped their sharing a dream was a onetime thing. He wasn’t any keener to have her witness what he dreamed about when he slept than she was to have him invade hers. He had too many dark memories that sometimes haunted him at night. The last thing he wanted to do was pull her into one of them.
He lifted her hand off his chest and brought it to his lips, brushing them over her knuckles. They were icy cold. Whether a by-product of magic or frayed nerves, he couldn’t say. Either way, he didn’t like it. “You said you felt a shock when you shook hands with Solange.”
“It was more like being zapped with electricity.” Her fingers curled toward her palm. “You think she did something to me, don’t you?” The pulse in her neck fluttered wildly, but her eyes were calm and steady.
“I do. A mage acts with purpose.”
“What do we do about it?” Her resilience and determination gave him hope that she would be able to accept everything else he had yet to throw at her.
“To fight magic, we need someone with that kind of knowledge.”
“You’re saying we have to contact a mage.” She rubbed her hands over the tops of her thighs. “What if whoever you call is a friend of hers?”
“We don’t have a choice.” At least not one he could think of. “If she marked you in some way, she can find you anywhere. There’s nowhere you can run, nowhere you can hide.” That was the brutal reality.
“Marked me? Like you’d tag an animal in the wild? That bitch.” She rubbed her hand harder, as if trying to scrub away the magic. “How do we go about finding someone who might help? I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get rid of the stink of that nasty woman and fix whatever she might have done to me.”
Kade caught her chin in his hand, marveling again at her resolve. He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, back and forth, back and forth. “I may know someone.” As she nodded, her tongue darted out to touch it. With a groan, he lowered his head.
…
