It had been sheer panic that had released her secret magic. Certainly she hadn’t deliberately tried to enchant this vampire, not when she was convinced that he was too strong to be swayed by her meager powers.
That was why she was so angry that he’d replaced the fairy. She’d had high hopes of swaying Lysander into setting her free.
But the fear of being trapped here while Gaius, and whatever strange creature was controlling him, came hunting for her, had tipped her over some mysterious edge.
She wouldn’t become a helpless victim.
Not again.
Now, she was not only trapped in a cell, but Roke was going to be furious when he came around.
And worse, she’d revealed that she was more than just a human witch.
Dammit.
Her karma was clearly in need of a good cleansing.
Almost on cue, Roke’s thick fringe of lashes lifted to reveal the astonishing eyes that were even more pale than usual, the black rim a startling contrast.
“What the . . .” His angry words cut off as he caught sight of Sally bending over him, his expression melting from confused fury to blind adoration. “Sally?”
Oh lord.
Was it possible?
Had she actually managed to enchant the mighty vampire?
The thought she had succeeded was almost as terrifying as having failed.
“How do you feel?” she cautiously inquired.
“Good.” A slow smile curved his lips. “No.”
She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. Even consumed by fear, she was nearly blinded by his stark male beauty. The lean, bronzed face with the high cheekbones and chiseled lips. The wide brow and proud nose. The dark hair that held the sheen of silk in the overhead light.
He looked too perfect to be real.
At last realizing that she was gawking at him like an idiot, she forced herself to clear her throat. “No, you don’t feel good?” she managed to rasp.
“I feel captivated.” Without warning his hands lifted to frame her face, his eyes darkening with an unmistakable hunger. “Come here, my little witch.”
Before she could react, Sally found herself being tugged downward. Instinctively her lips parted to protest, but the words were lost as Roke claimed her mouth in a kiss of unrelenting possession.
Holy shit.
As their lips met, her heart came to a shuddering halt. It was like being hit with lightning, she fuzzily acknowledged, forgetting to breathe as the shocking pleasure sizzled through her.
His tongue traced the line of her lower lip, his fingers plunging into her hair as he angled her head to the side.
“Roke,” she muttered, shivering as his mouth shifted to allow his fangs to scrape along the slender curve of her neck.
“I’ve wanted to taste you from the moment I caught sight of you,” he growled, his lips tormenting the pulse at the base of her neck, which was racing out of control. “This skin . . . as fine as ivory. And your scent of peaches.” His fingers tightened in her hair. “It’s driving me mad.”
They were both mad, Sally accepted as she sighed in approval. Or maybe the spell she’d woven around him had somehow caught her in its web.
In this moment, she didn’t care. She was completely lost in the blissful sensations. How had she ever called this man cold-blooded? His touch was igniting sparks of heat that threatened to consume her.
It was only the press of his fangs against her flesh that jerked her back to her senses.
“Oh . . . my god . . . no. Wait,” she hissed, pressing her hands against his chest. “No biting.”
“Why not?” he asked softly, his tongue running a path up her throat. “I hunger to taste you.”
Tantalizing pleasure swept through her. “Mmm, yes . . . I mean no.” With a sharp push, she was breaking free of his hypnotizing touch, sitting back on her heels as she pressed a hand to her throat. “I . . .”
“You?”
“I need my strength,” she said, more to remind herself than to halt Roke. For god’s sake, she was supposed to be escaping from this prison, not drowning in a sensual hunger for the man holding her captive.
Roke folded his hands beneath his head, regarding her with a sinful smile. “I like the sound of that.”
She licked her lips, which still tingled from his skillful kiss. “I mean, I need my strength so we can escape.”
“Escape?” He slowly sat upright, running a hungry glance down her body. “The only place we’re going is to my private rooms. The faster the better.”
He reached for her, but this time Sally was prepared. Scrambling to her feet, she retreated until her back hit the far wall.
Concentrate, Sally, she warned herself. Concentrate or die.
“Roke, please, you must listen to me.”
Regret rippled over his lean face as he rose to his feet, roughly shoving back the thick strands of his hair. “Forgive me, my sweet. I’m not usually so lacking in control.” He shook his head, his expression bemused. “You have bewitched me.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she breathed, guilt piercing her heart.
This proud warrior was going to hate her when he came to his senses and discovered what she’d done. She didn’t doubt that he would rather die than feel emotions for a skanky witch.
Of course, he already hated her, she reminded herself. So what did it matter?
Pretending that it didn’t, she made herself hold her ground as he cautiously approached, as if she were a wild animal he didn’t want to startle. Then, cupping her face in a tender hand, he rubbed a thumb over her cheek.
“We can take this as slow as you need,” he promised. “Just so long as we’re together.”
It was a spell. The warmth in his eyes. The gentleness of his touch. She knew that better than anyone. So why did it feel so real?
Crap. She thrust away the ridiculous thought, forcing herself to concentrate on the only thing that mattered.
Getting the hell out of this cell.
“Yes, but we both know that Styx won’t allow that,” she reminded him. “He thinks I’m the enemy.”
“No,” he denied. “Not the enemy.”
“Then why am I being held in this cell?”
A muscle clenched in his jaw. “I will speak with him. . . .”
“No, please, Roke.” She lifted her hands to clutch at his shoulders, her expression openly pleading. “We have to leave here.”
He frowned as her magical compulsion clashed with his loyalty to his Anasso. “Leave?”
“It’s the only way we can be together.”
Several tense minutes passed before he at last gave a grudging nod of his head. “Yes.”
She released a shaky sigh of relief. “Can you get us out of the dungeons?”
He frowned. “That’s no problem, but we’ll never be able to leave the lair without alerting Styx’s guards.”
“Once we’re away from this cell I’ll be able to use my magic,” she assured him.
There was another pause, then abruptly taking hold of her hand, he pulled her toward the cell door.
“Stay close.”
Chapter 11
North of the Louisiana wetlands
Nefri hid a grimace as they skirted past the small town. The violence that had tainted the air was slowly fading and the residents were gratefully settling in for a peaceful night.
Unfortunately, the promise of serenity did nothing to end the cold prickles of displeasure that radiated from her companion.
Santiago was in a crappy mood and he wanted to make sure he shared the misery.
Not that she was blameless, she ruefully acknowledged.
She’d been so intent on scurrying back behind her defensive walls that she’d totally forgotten the potency of male pride.
Santiago wouldn’t consider the idea that her rigid composure might be her way of coping with the overwhelming night of passion. Or that she might not be comfortable with the realization that she’d made herself vulnerable to him in a way she hadn’t for centuries.
Of course not.
He was used to females who fawned and fluttered over him. The kind of women who stroked his ego with assurances that he was a magnificent lover and no doubt begged for the opportunity to remain in his bed.
That knowledge did nothing for her own mood and it was a relief when there was a flutter of wings and Levet floated down from a nearby tree branch.
“At last,” the tiny gargoyle complained. “I had begun to fear that you had forgotten me.”
“I couldn’t be so lucky,” Santiago snarled, stepping past Levet to head toward the truck nearly hidden by the thick brush.
Levet sniffed, moving to walk at Nefri’s side. “What crawled up his ear?”
“My ass, gargoyle,” Santiago corrected, tugging open the door of the vehicle, which looked as if it should be headed for the junkyard. ASAP. “It’s ‘what crawled up my ass.’”
“Ew.” Levet wrinkled his snout. “I do not wish to know anything concerning your nether regions.”
Santiago narrowed his eyes, his beautiful features tight with irritation. “Just get in and shut up.”
Nefri reached to pat the gargoyle on the head, her gaze never wavering from the cranky male. “Ignore him.”
