“Hold this over the script.” Lucan’s voice pulled her out of her despairing thoughts. He held out a small rod-shaped crystal suspended from a fine silver chain.
Eve stared at the pendant. Her hands hummed, almost like they were plugged into a low voltage unit. She flexed her fingers to ease the tingles. “No.”
“What’s wrong?” Reynner asked her.
Eve shook her head, took a deep breath, and let instinct guide her. She held her palms over the ancient writings. “It responded to me this way before, maybe it will again.”
She closed her eyes, tried to concentrate. But it didn’t help. Her misery made her angry…her thoughts became hazy. Whispers rolled through her mind… Stone of Light…blood… magic… her heart rate accelerated as the answer came to her. Her eyes snapped open.
“I need a dagger.”
Three steel blades flashed before her. Eve jerked back in alarm and almost fell on her backside, but Reynner grabbed her upper arm. Like match to tinder, his touch sent tingles straight between her legs and the throbbing started in earnest.Oh, God!She tried to yank free, but his grip tightened.
“Why do you need a weapon?”
Did he think she’d hold a blade to his throat and jump him? She cut him a cold look. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”
“Let her do what she must,” Lucan bit out.
Reynner ignored him, but whatever he saw in her eyes made him release her. She hoped it was the look of his imminent death and not desperation. His dagger took form in his hand, and he handed it to her.
Eve gripped the heavy blade and frowned. She became aware of Lucan, along with the others, shifting away from her. Even Aerén. He leaned back in his seat, looking wary. The tension in the room heightened. They were all so still, almost as if they weren’t breathing.
Reynner, hunkered opposite her, looked like he wanted to kill something—or someone. She had no idea what had set him off since he’d worn that expression from the moment they arrived in Exilum.
The sooner she got this done, the sooner she could leave. Her mouth flattening, she ran the lethal edge of the blade across her finger. The sudden, painful slice stung. She winced.
Reynner snatched the dagger from her.“What the hell are you doing?”
“It’s all about blood, isn’t it?” She watched her blood seep out then she held her finger over the parchment. The sounds of booted feet drew nearer again, and the men surrounded her.
A deep red globule formed on the tip of her finger and splashed down.
Like a parched land, the scroll greedily absorbed her blood. Eve watched, waited for all this to end while her needs hiked to new levels. The urge to stroke herself, to find some release, grew. She bit down on her lip, the coppery taste of blood coated her tongue.
Oh, God, please let this be over,she begged.
And her finger burned like hell. Reynner grasped her hand, then his mouth closed over the cut. His tongue stroked the small wound. Eve stifled a gasp, her heart in her throat. Arousal burned deeper at each lap of his tongue, pushing her to the edge.
She yanked her finger free and grasped the table with both hands, breathing hard.
Seconds later, something moved—the script, written in black ink, took on a red hue. Sharp, indrawn breaths rang through the room. Then absolute and utter silence as the ancient writings stirred and whirled around the parchment in dizzying speed, like they’d been jacked with adrenaline, to rearrange themselves in a language she couldn’t understand.
When no one spoke, she glanced at Reynner. “What does it say? Does it tell you where the Stone is?”
He didn’t answer as he rose to his feet.
Eve bit her lip in desperation, the fresh wound there made her wince. Since no one bothered to answer her, she pushed up and glanced at Reynner, who glared at Lucan.
He didn’t even seem aware of her. Why would he care now? He’d finally gotten what he wanted, the location of the Stone. She no longer mattered.
On trembling limbs, she forced herself to walk out from the room.
In the corridor, she braced a palm on the wall and drew in a harsh breath. But nothing helped. She bit back a moan. Her skin was stretched so tight over her bones, she was afraid she’d shatter at a single touch.
Was there no escape from this savage need gnawing at her? Worse, she couldn’t even leave, trapped in this mountaintop aerie.
“Eve?”
