The Crossing (Immortals) (11 page)

"I don't mind."

"What took you so long? I was beginning to think you'd
thrown me over in favor of a nap."

Artemis hoped her blush looked coy rather than guilty.
"You weren't afraid I was trying to escape?" she said
lightly.

"Not at all. You wouldn't get far."

That's what you think. She smiled sweetly. "I'll keep that
in mind. How long will I be staying here with you?"

"Not sure, love." He set his mug on the table. "What
would you like to drink? Coffee? Tea? Chocolate? I've got
all three."

"Chocolate, please."

Mac obliged, pouring rich dark liquid from one silver
pitcher and adding hot milk from another. Artemis sank into
an empty chair, her stomach showing faint interest in breakfast. She should be starved, she supposed-she'd barely
eaten in days. But after four months of anxiety gnawing at
her gut, her appetite was minimal. Still, she needed to keep
up her strength. She accepted the plate Mac offered and
took a bit of everything.

Mac easily consumed three times what she did. When
his plate was bare, he poured himself a second cup of
coffee-black-and leaned back in his chair. His expression was thoughtful, and Artemis would have given a lot to
know just what he was thinking. His green eyes gave so little away.

Unnerved, she considered how best to make her move.
Her gaze dropped, focusing on Mac's thumb and its gentle, rhythmic stroke on the rim of the coffee mug. How
would that touch feel on her body? The thought had her
squirming slightly in her chair.

His eyes narrowed.

She forced a nonchalant smile. "So, have you decided
yet? What to do with me, I mean?"

His gaze dropped to her chest. Subtly, she straightened
her shoulders, making the most of her modest assets. She
twined a finger around a lock of her hair.

He looked up. She touched the tip of her tongue to her
lower lip. He countered with a quick, brilliant grin, the
force of which all but knocked her off her chair. Gods. No
wonder his female fans hounded him.

Then he shook his head slightly and cleared his throat.
His thumb ceased its gentle caress of the mug. "Right,
then. Well, love, let's get everything out in the open. As
you no doubt know, Sidhe law forbids willful, malicious
theft of Celtic life energy."

Artemis blinked at his sudden shift of mood. Mac was no longer smiling; it was as if the temperature in the room
had plummeted ten degrees.

She scrambled for a defense. "But... I'm not Sidhe. I'm
not even from the Celtic isles. I'm not subject to your laws."

"That's where you're wrong. Sidhe law applies to all animate creatures in the U.K. and Ireland, living and undead, resident or visitor. And I'm going to be straight with
you, love. I'm already out on a limb, delaying your arrest.
I should have hauled your lovely round arse straight to the
Sidhe Council."

Artemis swallowed. "Why didn't you?"

"The penalty for your crime is no picnic." He paused,
waiting until she looked at him again. "At the very least,
you'd be stripped of your powers and forced to live the
rest of your life as a mundane in the human world."

"And... the worst?"

"Let's see. A life of servitude as a mundane in Annwyn.
Captivity for life in a Sidhe prison. Or..." He paused.
"... death."

A sick tremor vibrated through Artemis's body. Gods. If
she'd known how brutal Sidhe law was... Well, it
wouldn't have made a difference, would it? She'd acted out
of necessity.

She forced a nonchalant tone. "Slavery? Imprisonment?
Death? The Sidhe aren't very forgiving, are they?"

"No. We're not."

She lifted her chin, watching him through downswept
eyelashes. "Then why did you bring me here, Mac? Why
not just throw me to the lions?"

"Good question."

She leaned forward, presenting him with an excellent
view of her cleavage, such as it was. "You must have an answer."

The bottom of his mug thumped on the table. His
palms flattened on the table. "It must have something to
do with my divine, forgiving half. Even though I know you're guilty as hell, I just can't bear the thought of seeing
you broken."

"Because... of what happened between us? When you
kissed me?" Her words were a husky whisper, and she
wasn't even acting anymore. Just the memory of his kiss
made her dizzy.

"That kiss? Do yourself a favor and forget it. You've
got more important things to ponder. You're a powerful witch, Artemis, but you're playing with magic that's
deadly. You think you can control the demon you're dealing with-"

"I'm not dealing with a-"

He slammed his fist on the table, making the dishes
jump. "Please. Don't lie to me. There's no other plausible
explanation for what you've done. You're not demonwhore, not yet, but you're headed in that direction. You
may think you have the upper hand, but you don't. I know
someone far more powerful than you who-" He stopped,
and swallowed hard. "Forget that. Just believe me when I
say that it won't work. Sooner than you think, the death
magic you're dealing with will destroy you. Tell me. Is it
money you need so badly? If so, I can get you all the cash
you want. All you have to do is tell me how much."

Artemis's chest contracted painfully. Mac's green eyes
were clear. And so sincere. He truly wanted to help her, despite everything she'd done. The thought was humbling.

For an instant, she let herself imagine what it would be
like to lean on his strength. To let him shoulder her burden. The desire to confide in him became a physical ache
in her chest.

But she wasn't a fool. Where she was headed, his magic
was worth about as much as a cheap card trick. And if she
told him the truth? If she told him what she planned to do
with the moonstone hidden away in the bedroom? He'd
haul her ass before the Sidhe Council faster than a nightclub magician could say "abracadabra."

No. She was alone, as she had been from the start. Trust
no one: that was the mantra that had gotten her this far. If
she abandoned that credo now, Zander would be lost forever.

She met his gaze frankly. "I don't need money. I don't
need anything except my freedom. If you really want to
help me, just give me that."

He rubbed his chin. "I might be persuaded. On one
condition."

"What's that?"

"Your promise that you'll stop stealing life energy. And
stay far away from faeries, Selkies, brownies, sprites,
imps-any and all the Celtic life-magic creatures. And humans, too. Give me that, Artemis Alexandria Black, and
you can go on your way."

"Just like that? You'd trust me?"

He snorted. "Not as far as a faerie could toss a ton of
bricks. That's why I've taken the liberty of placing a tracking spell on you. You can go, but if you even think of stirring up any death-magic mischief, I'll know immediately."

She stared at him, aghast. "What? You spelled me?"

He leaned back in his chair. "I did."

"But... you couldn't have. I didn't feel a thing."

He raised one implacable brow.

Swiftly, Artemis scanned her chakra centers, searching
for energy drains. Damn. Mac wasn't bluffing. The spell
was there, bound to her first chakra-the psychic center
of safety and stability. What he'd done was clamp the
magical equivalent of a mundane house arrest monitor on
her soul, similar to the binding spell vamps and demons
attached to their most troublesome human whores.

Cautiously, she tested the charm's strength. The jolt to
her senses was swift, strong, and painful. She might be
able to remove it, but it would take weeks of delicate spellwork. Months, maybe.

Gods. How humiliating. And she hadn't even known
he'd done it.

He watched her, a glint of dark amusement in his eyes.

"When?" she demanded.

He grinned. "Just now, while you were contemplating
getting under my robe. You were a bit... distracted. Angry at me, love?"

Angry? She was livid. But not at him-at herself. For
Mac, she felt nothing but grudging respect. And a sharp,
urgent stab of lust. He'd spelled her, and she hadn't even
known it. Here was a man who was not the least bit put off
by her power-because his was so much greater. He'd
never be afraid of her. Ever.

It was an incredibly arousing thought. If only she could
make love to him under more honest circumstances.

She shook her head. "How can I be angry at you? If
I were you, I wouldn't have been half so lenient. Why
have you been?"

He sighed. "I don't sense any true evil in you, Artemis.
You play with fire, yes, but you returned the life energy
you stole to Gilraen's village in time to prevent Tamika's
death. I don't believe you ever wanted to hurt anyone. I
think it scares you very much that you almost did."

She examined her twisted fingers.

"The Sidhe Council won't care about your intentions,
though," Mac continued. "They'll pass judgment purely
on your actions. Remember that. I won't even make you
swear a false promise to abandon your foolish plans. Just
know that if anything untoward happens in your vicinityanything at all-I'll snatch you up in a heartbeat." He
picked up his coffee and took a sip. "All right, then. I find
I'm not really keen on keeping unwilling prisoners, and
with the tracking spell in place, I won't have to. There's no
reason for you to stay. I'll have Fergus bring your car
around."

What? She blinked at him. "But-"

"Isn't that what you want?"

"Well, yes, but... suppose I also want to stay? At
least... for a while?"

His gaze sharpened. "Do you want to?"

Knees shaking so badly she swore she could hear them
rattle, she rose and rounded the table. Mac half twisted in
his seat as she draped her arms over his shoulders from behind. Her lips brushed his ear. "Yes."

His muscles bunched under her arms. Awareness spun
between them, drawing tighter with each second that
ticked by.

"Tired, are you?" He sounded softly amused. "Need a
good rest, perhaps?"

She stroked his chest, smoothing the lapels of his robe.
"Maybe later."

When he didn't immediately answer, she kissed the hollow beneath his earlobe. "Turn your chair around," she
whispered.

He obliged, and she sank to her knees before him, gently kneading his thighs. His taut muscles warmed cool silk.
The robe tented beneath its loosely knotted sash.

A genuine smile played on her lips. "I want to thank
you," she said, and for once, her words were completely
sincere. "For not taking me to the Sidhe Council."

He threaded his fingers through her hair. "You don't
have to thank me this way."

"I know. But I want to. Do you mind?"

"I'm half Sidhe, love. We're insatiable. Of course I
don't mind."

She stroked him through the silk. He was harder than
granite. His breath caught as he framed her face in his
large hands.

Lowering her gaze, she parted the edges of his robe. His
erection practically leaped into her hand, hot and eager.
He clenched his fists in her hair until her scalp tingled.

Other places on her body were tingling, too. She teased
her fingers up and down his shaft. His magic flared. Hers
answered, just as it had responded to his kiss. He was so
powerful. His immortal soul was so vast. And she only
needed a drop of his essence.

She kept her strokes deliberately light; his grip on her hair
tightened almost to the point of pain. His hips came off the
chair as he pressed himself more firmly into her hands.

"Artemis."

His intense green eyes nearly took her breath away. The
expression on his beautiful face was strained.

"I'm telling you again, love, you don't have to do this. I
don't expect anything from you."

"I want to give you something." And it was true. She
wanted so desperately to give him pleasure. Guilt was a
driving factor, of course. What she planned to do to him
was so wrong, on so many levels. But she couldn't pretend
her yearning to gratify him was all about guilt. She wanted
to please him. For him. And for herself. She wanted to
feel his vast power rise to overpower hers.

She brought her lips to within an inch of his erection
and blew a soft stream of air across the tip. He rasped air
into his lungs. She kissed the rounded head.

He exhaled a shaky breath. "Well, love, if you're willing...

"I am. Don't worry about that."

She was more than willing. The scent of him intoxicated her. An ache had sprung up between her legs, one
that urged her to rub against his body like a cat. Drawn by
her needs as much as his, she parted her lips and welcomed
him inside her mouth. He groaned, pulling her deep, then
pushed her away until she almost lost him. Then he was
urging her back again.

She let him set the pace, giving as he demanded until he
murmured a low curse and eased her gently away, disentangling his fingers from her hair.

"Too much too soon." He crooked her a smile. "No
need to rush."

No need to rush? There was every need! Time was rapidly running out. But it wouldn't do to let him guess that.

She sat back on her heels and smiled up at him. Holding
his gaze, she grasped the hem of her T-shirt and slowly
pulled the garment over her head.