A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(50)
Author: Kresley Cole

After twelve hundred years of searching for her, he wasn’t about to share her.

Bowe raised his eyebrows. "Aye. Do you see that red button on the phone there? Means someone’s on the line. I just passed Harmann, and Cass would have a cell phone. Looks like your queen’s phoning home."

Lachlain shrugged. "She canna give them directions to this place. She was unconscious until we got to the gate."

"They keep her on the phone long enough and she will no’ have to. Lachlain, they can track where this phone call is coming from. Satellites above us and such."

Lachlain exhaled and mentally added "satellite" to his list of things he didn’t bloody understand and would look up later. He’d thought satellites were for television, not for tele-phones.

Bowe continued, "Depends on how high-tech they are, but they might need as little as three minutes – " The light went off. "Good, then, she hung up – " The light resumed. "She’s calling again. You truly might want to stop her." The light went on once more, then off, repeating several more times while Lachlain and Bowe watched in silence.

"Does no’ matter," Lachlain finally said. "I will no’ forbid her to speak with her family."

"They’ll descend on this castle like the plague."

"If they can find it, and get past our protections, then I’ll think of something to pacify them. Are they no’ obsessed with shiny things? A bauble or two should suffice."

Bowe raised his eyebrows. "Let me know how that works out for you."

Lachlain scowled, then limped to the window, gazing out. He saw her a moment later, gliding out across the greens.

"Ah, I see you’ve spotted her."

"How do you know?" he asked without turning.

"You tensed and leaned forward. Doona worry. Soon you will be out there with her on nights like these."

As if she felt his gaze, she turned to the window. She was eerily beautiful with the fog swirling about her, her face as pale and captivating as the moon above her. But her normally expressive eyes now revealed nothing to him.

He wanted her so badly, but knew the harder he tightened his grasp, the more she would slip from it like quicksilver. The only thing about her that responded to him was her body – tonight her need had been strong – and he could use that.

She turned from him and stole into the night. She was born to haunt this place. To haunt him. He continued to stare long after she disappeared.

"Maybe you should just tell her why there’s an element of time," Bowe offered.

He exhaled. "She’s no’ been with a man." Lachlain had debated telling her the truth again and again, but the truth involved admitting he was desperate to have her so he wouldn’t hurt her. "So should I say, ‘If you cooperate, then I will no’ hurt you as badly’?"

"Christ, I dinna know she was innocent. No’ many of those left in the Lore. Of course you canna tell her, else you’ll terrify her and make her dread the night – "

"Bloody hell," Lachlain bit out when Cassandra followed in Emma’s direction.

Bowe moved to another window facing out. "I’ve got this one. Why do you no’ relax for a while."

"No, I’ll go." He lurched for the door.

Chapter 16

Bowe put his hand on Lachlain’s shoulder. "Cass would no’ dare hurt her after you made your wishes clear. I’ll get rid of Cass and then talk to Emma. It canna hurt."

"No, Bowe, you might…frighten her."

"Oh, aye." Bowe raised his eyebrows, mocking expression in place. "After tonight, I see you’ve a verra delicate sparrow on your hands. I’ll be sure to loosen up my jaw for her in case she wants to backhand me."

Emma leapt up to the roof of the folly to pace along the edges. She wanted her iPod so badly she would almost sleep with the liar for it.

She supposed it didn’t matter that it had been trashed by the vampires, since even her "Angry Female Rock" tracks would sound insipid compared to her own ranting.

How dare he do this to her? She’d just gotten past the vampire attack, and then his change, and then the Cass attack, and now he had to go and throw this…this lie at her.

Every time she settled in with him, became even somewhat comfortable, he threw her a new curveball. The changes around her – for someone who rarely left home and didn’t consider herself an adapter – and the changes within her frightened her. If she could just find one constant in this bombardment of variables. Just one thing to trust –

"I can get you away."

With a hiss, Emma leapt backward, clearing the weather vane to land perched on a gable top. Seeing Cassandra on the roof of the folly, she hunched down, ready to spring for her. Whenever she thought about this gorgeous, brick-house-built Lykae being in love with Lachlain for centuries, Emma wanted to scratch her eyes out.

"I can get you a car," Cassandra continued. A small breeze blew, just enough to stir the fog and brush her pretty sun-streaked hair back from her normal ear.

She had the lightest freckles on her nose, and Emma begrudged her every one. "And why would you do that?" Emma asked, though she knew why. The skank wants Lachlain.

"He seeks to keep you a prisoner. Bowe told me you are part Valkyrie, and I know your Valkyrie blood boils at the thought of being held here."

Emma felt a surge of embarrassment. That is correct, sage foe, for my Valkyrie blood demands my absolute freedom, had not been on the tip of her tongue. That hadn’t even been her main concern. She was just ticked that Lachlain had lied. And ticked that Nïx had thrown her under the bus, hanging up on her ten times. "What’s in it for you?" she asked.

"I want to save Lachlain from making a huge mistake, from alienating a clan that will never accept you. If he was no’ coming off nearly two hundred years of torture, he would be able to see that you are no’ his mate."

Emma assumed a thoughtful expression and tapped her finger against her chin. "He wasn’t just coming off torture" – wait for it – "when he saw that you are not his mate."

Cassandra almost stifled her wince.

Emma sighed at her own behavior. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t usually so bitchy. She got along with all the Lore creatures that were constantly tromping or floating in and out of the manor. The witches, the demons, the fey – all of them. She chalked this up as yet another example of changes within her that she didn’t understand.

What was it about this female that grated so much? Why did she have a nearly undeniable urge to fight her? Like she should be on Jerry Springer, screaming, "That’s my man!"

Was she jealous of the time Cassandra had spent with him?