“I am over seven hundred years old. I have already marked her as my mate and it is not as if this is the first time we have enjoyed the pleasures of being in each other’s arms.” He risked a glance at Hannah and couldn’t decide if her face was red because she was embarrassed or about to burst with laughter. “Ye are nay being reasonable!” And Septamus wondered why he hadn’t returned home in over three hundred years? Septamus never had a mother like this.
“This is not negotiable, Taggart. You will not know the rapture of Hannah again untilafterthe union is blessed.” The golden curtain rippled and Isla gave a haughty sniff, as though daring her son to challenge the edict further. “Now, bid your lady love good night so she may return to her reading. Gilda waits in the hall to show you to the new chambers you will use until after the ceremony.”
Unable to restrain an irritated growl, Taggart swiped an arm through the golden curtain and scattered its image. “I canna believe she cast a celibacy spell on us! Of all the controlling, manipulative, scheming?—”
“Taggart.” Hannah snorted a giggle while trying to hide it behind her hand. “It won’t be that bad.”
“Won’t be that bad?” He grabbed her to his chest. “Woman, I needed to make love to ye until the first sun crested over the horizon!”
“Take care, my hot-blooded bug zapper. You’re going to get us singed again.” She wriggled out of his grasp, cringing as she backed away.
“The spell will only burn if it senses an attempt to go too far. It allows minimal physical contact.”
Mother had overstepped entirely too far this time. As soon as they freed Erastaed from Sloan, he would make sure it was another three hundred years before she laid eyes on his hybrid arse again. Which reminded him. He needed to speak to Esme about blessing Hannah with immortality.
“By the way,” he said, striving for a nonchalant tone. “How do yefeel about growing old?” He circled her, pretending to eye her up and down. She needed to crave immortality. If she didn’t hunger for it, Esme’s blessing would not take hold. He could not bear the thought of watching Hannah age and die, leaving him to live on without her.
Her eyes narrowed into suspicious green slits. “Well, you certainly veered off to a different subject.” She tightened the belt on her wrap, turning to keep him in sight while he circled her. “Aging doesn’t bother me. Many people never get the opportunity.”
That was not what he wished to hear. She needed to be a vain woman. Terrified of growing old. “Aye, but as a human, yer life is so short. Do ye not feel cheated by the lack of years ye have been given?” Perhaps that was the route to take, not aging, but that she didn’t have as much time as he did.
She stared off into the distance, an intense sadness settling across her. “Not so much cheated. I fear I’ve wasted time because by the time I figured things out, I frittered away my best years.”
“If ye had an endless supply of years, or at least what seemed like an endless supply, then I doubt I would see such remorse right now.” He ignored a stab of guilt, sensing he had stirred painful memories for her. The directness of her gaze threatened to make him squirm.
“What are you getting at?” She scooped her book off the pile of pillows beside the couch.
When she bent, she treated him to an unhindered view of her forbidden breasts. His groin tightened, aching with a lust-filled throb. “I swear, Mother, I will see that ye never lay eyes on your wee grandchildren.”
“What was that?” Hannah frowned as she moved closer.
He shifted his stance to adjust his breeches. “I said Esme has the power to grant ye immortality, so the years of yer life match mine.”
She hugged the leather-bound book to her chest as though it gave her strength. Her toes with the brightly painted nails curled into the plush carpeting as she studied him. “Esme has a spell that would make me live forever?”
He eased a step closer, taking care to keep the anxiousness out of his tone. Well-chosen words were the order of the day or she wouldsurely bolt. She had barely nibbled at the bait. “All Draecna females are born with the Fire of Immortality. If Esme so chooses and ye accept, ye can increase yer lifespan by thousands of years.”
She worked her toes deeper into the nap of the rug while biting her lower lip. With the book tucked under chin, she repeated, “Thousands of years?”
He held his breath, forcing himself to remain calm. She needed this. Needed to be with him. Forever. Anything else could not be borne.
A pondering frown puckered her brow as she meandered over to the hearth and stared down into the fire. “What does this Fire of Immortality entail? Besides a longer life, I mean.”
The excruciating tightness in his chest eased as he heard the acceptance in her voice. With her curiosity piqued, she would proceed forward. The lift in her tone and her aura’s shifting color betrayed her. She warmed to the idea even now. He smiled and gave a nonchalant flip of his hand. “’Tis just a small rite. Painless. We can add it to our joining ceremony, if ye wish.” He moved closer and risked nuzzling the temptation of her graceful neck. “Then nothing can ever part us again. We shall be together for eternity.”
“Isla’s stronghold, the Crystal Caverns.”Sloan traced his fingertips around the rim of his wineglass as he reflected on the bloodlike color of the swirling liquid. Perhaps that was why this vintage was his favorite. He sipped, then held it up to the light again. “So obvious. So bloody, bloody obvious. We should have known they would go there. Where else would they think themselves safe?” He crushed the glass in his hand, then smiled as the wine mixed with his blood.
Corter cringed, shuffled back a step, and resettled his stance on the lush Turkish carpet. “He waits outside for your orders. Said the ceremony is in three days' time.”
“Three days,” Sloan repeated while plucking shards of glass fromhis hand. Three days gave him plenty of time to plot the perfect revenge. He licked at the blood streaming down his wrist, savoring the coppery tang. His brother’s blood would taste the same after he ripped him open with his own dagger. “Tell him to listen and relay any more news. Tell him he has done well. Give him his usual payment. In fact, pay him double.”
“Double?” Corter’s pockmarked face flushed a reddish purple. “Do you know how scarce virgins are these days? And it’s no’ like he uses them for pleasure. He just eats them. You realize that?”
“I do not care what he does with them. It is his payment. Handle it.” Sloan rose from his settee, wrapped his hand in a silk handkerchief, and tucked the ends into his sleeve.
“In three days' time, I shall return balance.” He strolled through the room, wandering around the collapsed columns and blown-away walls still left from Taggart’s attack. Revenge would truly be sweet when he ripped the Guardian’s heart from her chest, held in front of Taggart’s face, and took a slow, juicy bite of it.
William snickeredas Taggart entered the room.
