Fated for Sacrifice Page 2

  Dáire’s heart came to a standstill as his breath caught. In the five or so years he’d known her, in all the times he’d accompanied Tom and Reese to one of Tom’s political events, never had she looked more enchanting.

  And the way she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, huddling into it to ward off a presumable chill, made him want to gather her into his arms and hold her close more than he’d ever craved the idea before.

  He closed his eyes to a frustrated groan and reminded himself she wasn’t available for the taking. Reese belonged to Tom, no matter how horridly Tom treated her. Dáire had no business entertaining the fleeting thoughts that always flooded his mind each time he stood in the same room with her.

  Why, why, had Tom abandoned her out here tonight, when it was already everything Dáire could do to keep his hands off Reese Hamilton?

  Cursing Tom for the bastard that he was, Dáire lifted his hand, knocked once, then turned the doorknob.

  Chapter Two

  Halfway to her feet, Reese startled as the front door swung open. A surprised cry bubbled in her throat, only to die off in a gasp as Dáire angled his long, rangy frame through the doorway.

  “Hey you,” he greeted, his quiet voice as smooth and rich as well-aged whiskey. The sound of it scraped pleasantly across her skin.

  The familiar scent of cigarette smoke she associated with Dáire wafted to her nose, not entirely unpleasant. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the delightful shiver that rippled through her insides. “Hi.” Shaking off surprise, she gave him a hesitant smile. “I hope I’m not disturbing anything. The place looked abandoned, and Tom—”

  “Left you at the campsite.” Dáire pushed the door shut with his heel. His devilish grin faltered with the hint of something Reese couldn’t fully recognize. But she’d swear on her soul, she’d never seen that touch of darkness grace his azure eyes before.

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  Dáire chuckled low as he crossed to the table and pulled out a dust-covered chair. “I ran into Tom.” He swiped the grime off the seat with his palm, wiped his hand on his thigh, and dropped into the wooden seat. “He dropped by the house and told me he’d left you there before he barreled down my drive.”

  Such generosity. Reese couldn’t contain a derisive snort. She clamped a hand to her mouth as the sound cracked over the snapping fire. Dáire was Tom’s friend. He didn’t need to be caught in the middle of her breakup.

  But it was too late. One curious eyebrow shot up, and Dáire cocked his head sideways. The firelight illuminated the intricate tribal tattoos across his cheekbones. “Trouble in paradise?”

  Pursing her lips, Reese dropped back onto the floor and crossed her legs Indian-style. “It’s just the usual Tom stuff. You know—he blows hot, then cold, then—”

  “Reese.” Low and quiet, the simple utterance of her name carried heavy weight.

  She lifted a wary gaze to his speculative blue stare.

  “Cut the crap. He’s an asshole. He hasn’t treated you right since you two got involved. Why the hell do you stay with him?”

  Oh, holy… Reese blinked. The last thing she’d expected was for Dáire to throw Tom under the proverbial bus. They’d always been close, always joked like the best of friends.

  “Seriously. Five years? Don’t tell me you’re going to excuse this like you have every other time.”

  She blinked again and swallowed down her shock. “Um. Well.” A nervous laugh slipped free. “No.”

  Dáire’s gaze sharpened. “No?”

  The hard intensity of his stare unsettled her. She pulled the quilt back over her legs and focused on the thread-bare pattern. “No. It’s over. It’s been over for a while. Just not officially.”

  “And now it is?”

  Something about the quiet tone of his voice, the hint of relief that lurked beneath his question, tripped her pulse into an unsteady rhythm. Surely she was hearing things. Adding what she hoped she might hear. Dáire wouldn’t possibly be relieved she was no longer with Tom.

  “Yes. It’s over.” She summoned a wry smile and lifted her gaze once more to Dáire. What reflected back at her, however, stole the breath from her lungs. Interest. Curiosity. And damned if those blue eyes didn’t spark with something far darker and compelling for a brief instant before his soft mouth curved faintly at one corner.

  He held her gaze silently.

  Long enough her stomach flipped erratically. Man, oh man… He just shouldn’t look at a woman that way. Least of all her, who’d spent too many years wondering what might have happened if he had asked her out first, instead of two unlucky hours later.

  Feeling exposed, she shifted her weight.

  Dáire cleared his voice, and his expression returned to the normal, comfortable, friendliness she’d become so familiar with. His grin emerged in full force, and he flipped his shoulder-length auburn hair over his shoulder with a shake of his head as he reclined in the chair. Angling his hips forward, he stuffed a hand in his front jeans pocket and pulled out a crumpled cigarette pack. He gave the box a perturbed frown before tossing it on the tabletop. “Good to hear.”

  “I thought you quit smoking?”

  He shrugged. “Haven’t found the motivation.”

  “I won’t kiss a man who smokes.” Reese’s eyes went wide as the confession burst free. Good grief, where had that come from? It wasn’t like he’d offered. Heat crept into her cheeks.

  Once more Dáire’s gaze sparked with dark intensity, leaving her feeling like he could read the sinful fantasies in her mind. “Maybe I’ll find that motivation.”

  No. No, no, no—she was imagining this. They were not having this discussion. They couldn’t have it. Getting involved with Dáire came with a whole bunch of complications. One in particular—Tom, who would never believe they hadn’t been involved behind his back.

  Reese tore her gaze away, looking up at the old timbers on the ceiling. “This is some cabin.” Lame, but she couldn’t take another minute of the path they had been heading down.

  “Yeah.” Dáire pushed away from the table, rose, and crossed to the fire to add another log. “It’s the original homestead. My family owns it now. I haven’t been in here in years.”

  Shew! Back to normal. Reese let out a relieved breath. She could deal with Dáire on this level. It was how they always interacted. Friends. Comfortably acquainted with one another.

  “I got lost looking for yours. I hope you don’t mind I made myself at home.”

  ****

  Mind? When it was twenty-two degrees outside, and his brother was on the prowl? Dáire bit back a mutter. No, it went deeper than that. He didn’t mind at all that she’d made herself at home in the middle of what belonged to him.

  “Nope,” he answered absently.

  No longer Tom’s. It’s been over for a while. Long enough she might consider someone else? Him?

  He made a show of using the unlit log to stoke the fire, then gave up with a sigh and tossed the chunk of hickory in. He could not afford to go down this road with Reese. Beyond all the complications that came with Tom, there was the matter of Dáire’s curse. The taint of his dark blood and the promise that if he surrendered his heart to someone, he would take that precious life. With the way his body was reacting to Reese’s nearness, Dáire couldn’t take the risk.

  Then again, it had been months since he’d tended to his baser needs. Sure he’d always found Reese attractive, but he hadn’t been half-erect any other time he’d been in the same room with her.

  Nor had she been single any other time.

  Tempering a frustrated groan, he straightened and brushed his hands on his jeans. He should take her back to his cabin, out of this dust, and at least offer her someplace comfortable to stay. But Taran was there, and the last thing Dáire needed was to fend off his brother while trying to juggle the conflicting desires Reese awakened.

  He turned around in time to catch her gaze jerk from his backside to his face. The color that inf
used her cheeks shot straight to his gut and clamped it into a hard knot. It also told him precisely where she’d been looking. Not for the first time either. On more than one occasion, he’d caught the gleam of feminine appreciation in her eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking. The urge to laugh combated with the urge to drag her to her feet and satisfy whatever it was that was brimming between them. What had been simmering for too many years.

  In five years of knowing her, Dáire couldn’t recall ever seeing Reese this nervous.

  “Why’d you say yes?” For the same five years he’d longed to know, and now the bottle-necked question escaped without his conscious awareness.

  “Yes?” Confusion danced behind her tawny eyes.

  “To Tom, back when we were all working together.”

  “Because he asked first.”

  “No.” Dáire shook his head. “The second time he asked.”

  Her full lips parted as her eyebrows lifted. “Because I liked him.”

  Her too-quick response set off centuries of instincts. She was hiding something. By the ancestors, it was so damn tempting to use his gift and poke around in her head for the truth. Instead, he crossed the five feet that separated them and looked down at her upturned face. “You liked me too, Reese.” Crouching in front of her, he cupped her chin in one large palm and stroked the corner of her mouth with the pad of his thumb. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You still do.”

  Everything inside him warned this was wrong. That he was playing with the fates as well as her life. But even the wisdom of the ancestors couldn’t make him stop. He wanted Reese. Had for as long as he could remember. Only the fact she was pledged to another and his own moral convictions kept him from pursuing her with a vengeance.

  Reese’s smile faltered. Her gaze skipped to his mouth, back to his eyes. Dimly, he recognized the sharp catch of her breath. Long eyelashes fluttered as she swallowed. When she looked at him once more, honesty shone from the depths of her sweet soul. “I liked you too much, Dáire.” Twisting out of his grasp, she let out a tight laugh. “It’s late. I think the cold got to my brain—I don’t know where that came from.”

  She might not, but he sure as hell did. Her answer was exactly the reason he shouldn’t lean forward and give into the siren’s call of her delicate pink mouth. But he already was. Her breath mingled with his. The faint scent of cherry Chapstick drifted off her lips. It pulled him in, drew him closer, until warm soft skin moved hesitantly against his.

  One touch, and he was toast. With a ragged exhale, Dáire closed his eyes and surrendered to well-aged yearning. His fingers slid to the thick hair at the nape of her neck, gentle pressure there holding her in place as he captured her lower lip between his and traced the tip of his tongue across its fullness. The wholly unexpected sweetness nearly knocked him backward, and he dropped one knee to the floor to keep from tottering under the forcible onslaught of untempered desire.

  Spirits above, this was so wrong. Dangerous on so many levels.

  Satisfaction rumbled in the back of his throat, and he nudged her lips apart. The slow, languorous glide of her tongue against his pulled at the chain of knots his insides had become, unraveling him in ways he hadn’t known were possible. Her hands settled on his shoulders, short nails pressing through the heavyweight fabric of his long-sleeved jersey. She lifted up, moving into him as his free hand clasped her waist, drawing her even closer.

  And then, Reese was gone, her hands pushing against his chest while she staggered to her feet. “This is…complicated.” She drew her fingers through her long hair, then ran her hands down her thighs, smoothing her jeans. “I’m going to call it a night.”

  Nope. Not after that kiss she wasn’t. They’d stuck their toes in this mess, now it was time to sink or swim. And he damn sure wasn’t leaving this cabin pretending like that incredible kiss hadn’t happened. He knew Reese—if he let her push the matter aside, there’d be no hope of ever bringing it up again. Once she buried something, it stayed there.

  Logic formed on his tongue, a dozen reasons why they absolutely needed to confront this thing between them. They didn’t have to broach commitment, didn’t have to delve into complications. Besides, it would be better if they kept it simply to sex for a while.

  But all the rationalizations Dáire prepared lodged behind his teeth as Reese reached into an aged trunk, pulled out a heavy quilt, and unfolded it with a shake. Rolled up paper tumbled free to land at her feet. She bent over, a frown marring her flushed face, and picked up a scroll.

  Not just any scroll. Magic wafted off the aged parchment. Power that Dáire recognized as the same lightness that flowed in his blood. His mother’s power. The same magical strength of light that would deal his vile sire another felling blow and give Dáire the mortality he craved.

  In that instant, he knew no matter her protest, he couldn’t leave.

  Chapter Three

  Dáire swallowed through the thickening of his throat and gestured at the scroll at her feet. “May I see that?”

  Picking up the scroll, Reese flashed him a saucy smile that belied her earlier nerves and hesitation. “Finders keepers.” She waved the parchment with a wink.

  If she only knew the danger involved with possessing that scroll. Drandar would hunt her down should the magical might remain exposed for too long. Along with him would come Taran. Right now, the full strength of that power remained contained by the thin layer of tanned hide rolled around the aged pages.

  “Reese,” he protested, doing his best to keep the urgency out of his voice. “Let me see that thing.”

  “Have a little patience.” She plucked at the indigo ribbon wound around the center.

  Fine then. There were other ways to accomplish what he wanted, other means of insuring her safety. He hated to use his gift on her, for doing so stripped her of her freedom of will. An act that defied the balance of nature. But what she held was too powerful.

  Training every bit of his focus on her, he reached out to her with his mind. Her energy interlaced with his, taunting other, more primal aspects of his soul. Spirits above, she was sweet. Wholly feminine in ways he had only imagined. Enticing ways that tightened his nerves and brought every center of awareness in tune with her.

  Slowly, methodically, he worked his way past the outer layer of Reese’s energy, seeking the deeper subconscious that would easily bend to his will. One small word of suggestion and he’d hold the scroll in his hands. One step away from mortality.

  So close…

  Give me the scroll, Reese. Silently, he instructed her.

  A laugh fell from her lips, and she turned to grin at him once more. “Give you the scroll? Where’d your manners go? Relax, I’ll have it open in a second. We can look together.”

  Dáire blinked. She’d heard him? Impossible. The only people who could sense his intrusion were his siblings. They shared his magical blood. Reese didn’t.

  And yet, she’d clearly heard him.

  Damnation!

  As the ribbon fell apart in her hands, Dáire stood and clenched his hands. He couldn’t stop her now. All he could do was hope that her curiosity wouldn’t bring hellhounds to the cabin’s doorstep.

  With gritted teeth, he watched as she untied the ribbon and unrolled the parchment. Her frown returned to crease her brow as she studied the pages Dáire already knew were covered in ancient runes. She wouldn’t understand the magical language. And he silently prayed to his mother’s roaming spirit that Reese’s curiosity would surrender and she’d pass over the scroll.

  “Oh, this is interesting! Look at this, Dáire—it’s in runes. And it looks hand-drawn.” She turned the opened pages in his direction. “Do you know what it is?”

  “No,” he lied.

  “Hm. It’s very curious.”

  “I think I should take that up to the house. Put it someplace safe until I’ve got the time to take it in somewhere and have it researched.” The flimsy excuse was the only reason he could create on the fly. He needed that scrol
l. Rather, she needed to not possess the scroll. Already the magic tainted her hands, creating a residual stain that wouldn’t wash off with soap and water. Time alone would erase the presence. Time neither of them had, he realized as the wind picked up outside.

  Reese shook her head. “I know who can shed some light on this.”

  Damn it.

  “My neighbor goes to this rare book shop in Augusta owned by a lady named Miranda. She’s hooked on anything old like this. She’ll know what it is in a heartbeat. I’ll take it to him tomorrow morning, and bring it back with his explanation.”

  To Dáire’s relief, Reese rolled the parchment pages back into the hide covering. But to his absolute consternation, she stuffed it in the inside pocket of her coat. Now what? Tell her it belonged to him? Demand she give it over? He could, but she’d be offended. He’d already told her he didn’t know what it was, and she was offering to do him a favor.

  No, there was only one thing he could do—he had to tap into her mind and convince her to give up the notion of taking it to her friend. And he knew only one way to accomplish that. She would be more susceptible when she fell into the state of languor and she relaxed just before dropping off to sleep.

  Which meant he had to do some crafty talking now.

  Standing, Dáire went to the grime-covered window and peered beyond an askew shutter. “I think I better stay here tonight, Reese. It’s a bit of a walk to my place, and I don’t like the idea of you out here alone.”

  As she folded back the dusty quilt and eased it to the floor, Reese chuckled. “I’m a big girl. It’s warm in here, I have blankets if the fire goes out, and I’m not afraid of a bit of howling wind.”

  He chewed on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t want to scare her, but if Taran came out this way, Reese would be in imminent danger. If Taran also discovered that scroll…