Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night (Immortals After Dark #4)(23)
Author: Kresley Cole

She tried to twist from his grip, but he held firm. Gods, she wanted to throw him across the cave – and with the same strength as when she’d pinned him earlier!

"What in the hell were you thinking to enter a competition like the Hie?" He gave her shoulders a jostle. "You knew what you were getting into, and you still signed up. You could have died!" he roared, shaking her hard.

She raised her hands to shove against his chest; he flew across the cavern, as though tossed against the far wall.

When he landed, he looked as dumbfounded as she felt. MacRieve was like a lightning rod for her powers. Whenever she wanted to use them against him, they worked perfectly.

As he made it back to his feet, an expression of such pure menace twisted his face that she thought he could kill her.

Fitting – since she was about to kill him. "By that same token, MacRieve, you knew what you were getting into as well!" she yelled. "So quit whining about any curse I put on you! If you enter a deadly competition against a witch, you should expect I’ll use the weapons allotted me."

He pointed at her, opening his mouth and then closing it, knowing she was right. "I dinna intend this to happen to you! You struck out at me with malice."

"Only when you were about to seal us in!"

"Which I did because you put your filthy spell on me!"

"Just as you didn’t intend for me to be trapped and have all these horrible things happen to me, I didn’t intend for you to lose your mate, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even you. So you have a lot of nerve to say that my nightmare was unintentional, then to blame me directly for your troubles. Over a three-week period you lost the Hie, and because you lost the Hie, you lost your mate, so it’s all my fault! You might try blaming the person who ultimately defeated you – I’m sure they didn’t do it politely. Or you might try blaming the person responsible for her death in the first place!"

"I was responsible," he grated, his eyes suddenly so bleak they staggered her. "Me. And the gods know I do." Then he stormed from the cave, knocking their speechless audience out of the way.

14

"That little, bloody witch!" Bowe snapped as he stormed to the plateau. What was she thinking to scream at him like that? To bloody throw him?

Just as Bowe put his fist through a tree, Rydstrom appeared. "Got under your skin, then?"

"What do you want?"

"To tell you what we’ve decided to do."

"What you’ve decided? The witch is my charge."

Rydstrom ignored him. "Hild will begin the journey tonight, heading back into the conflict. He’ll move more quickly alone and will be able to sneak past the armies to get the word to the factions as soon as possible. Cade, Tera, Tierney, and myself will travel east with her and get her back to the States."

Bowe flexed his bloody fist. "And what do you propose for me?"

"We want you gone. Your presence is obviously upsetting for her."

"Oh, aye, the poor, wee lass – who tossed me like a skipping stone. You want me gone, and believe me, I want to be as well. But you forget – it’s my head if she does no’ arrive in one piece. Considering that this just turned into a game of ‘protect the mortal’ through the jungle, I think I’ll stay and ensure that she lives."

"Your job’s over. Hild will inform everyone that I take full responsibility for Mariketa. If anything happens to her, it’s my problem, not yours." When Bowe was unmoved, Rydstrom said, "We think that if you stay, the two of you will kill each other."

Likely. "I canna leave until she undoes this second curse. Understand me, I will no’."

"And I’m sure she’s keen to do anything you ask right now. Bowen, what were you thinking?"

"Was no’."

"You know women better than this."

"I know women – no’ witches. And believe me, demon, there’s a difference."

"I’ve never seen you lose your temper like that. And I’ve seen your wrath many a time," Rydstrom said, his tone becoming musing. "I hope you’re certain she’s not your mate reincarnated."

Bowe froze. The thought had crossed his mind, of course, but there were dozens of reasons to discount the idea. Still… "Why do you say that?"

Rydstrom limped to a fallen tree and dropped his giant frame down onto the trunk. "What if Mariketa didn’t enchant you? If you accept the belief that no one in the Lore gets a second mate, then reincarnation is the only other explanation for you to think of her as yours."

Bowe knew Rydstrom’s curiosity could rival any Lykae’s, and he enjoyed solving mysteries and fixing problems. Rydstrom had obviously deemed this situation one or the other, or both. He got that analytical air about him, so contrary to his demon state when reason was lost – even worse than Bowe in his werewolf form.

And therein resided the problem with Rydstrom. When he went demonic, he really went.

He continued, "Reincarnates are extremely rare, true, but they do exist."

"No, the witch did enchant me," Bowe insisted. "The Valkyrie soothsayer confirmed what I’d already felt. She even told me Mariketa would eventually remove it for me."

"Valkyrie soothsayer?" Rydstrom’s brows drew together. "You don’t mean Nïx? What was it that they called her?"

Nucking Futs Nïx.

"Shame a beauty like that is so soft in the head. But why would you trust that mad creature on something this important?"

"Everyone I trust in the world trusts her," Bowe said. "That’s good enough for me." But was it, really? Damn it, Mariah and Mariketa, aside from the similar fey names and pointed ears, were complete opposites. Mariah had been so ethereal and innocent, the witch so sensual and devious, and so… brave. No. Mariketa could not be her. Simply impossible.

Rydstrom studied Bowe. "Wouldn’t matter now if Mariketa was her anyway."

"What does that mean?"

"Animosity has probably already turned to hatred in that one. And there’s nothing like boiling hatred to dampen a female’s acceptance of her mate. Especially when he’s not of her kind." Rydstrom ignored Bowe’s scowl and said, "I just wonder if the witch actually could have cast such an intricate spell on you. Think about it – this couldn’t be a simple love spell to trigger this kind of reaction in you."

One thing Bowe was unequivocally certain of was that he didn’t love her. He desired her, had overriding urges to protect her – and to bed her. Gods, how I want to bed her.

But he didn’t even like her. Which followed. Considering that she’d just attacked him. Twice.