A woman hadn’t touched him like that in centuries. He wanted it so badly he ached. Touch, warmth, a release from the self-imposed iron cage of control that kept his demons at bay. She offered it all.
His cock swelled and punched against his pants and that fog fell across his brain again. She was so warm and soft and close. He reached up to cup the back of her neck to draw her to him.
The heat of her skin against his fingertips shocked some sense into him. He jerked his hand away and stepped backward until he bumped into the counter. Gods, that was so close. He’d been so damn close to losing it. And he would, with her. One touch, one taste, and he’d be lost.
To a damn soulceress.
“What?” she asked, confusion and hurt on her face. She moved toward him.
He sidestepped. This had to stop. He couldn’t fight it.
“I doona want you.”
“Yes, you do. I’m not an idiot. I see the way you look at me.”
“I doona bloody want you. You’re a soulceress, for gods’ sakes.” It was a godsdamned lie, but it came out easy, pushed by the panic.
Her eyes stopped shining and took on a leaden cast. She stepped backward.
“Ugh. Boring. Always with the soulcery business.” Her words were light but her tone wasn’t. She strolled over to the couch but didn’t sit. “Like I have the fucking plague or something. I really thought you were different, Warren. What’s your problem, anyway? You’re a damned mystery monster. I don’t drain your power, so what have you got against me?”
Her tone was acid, but he swore he could hear a note of vulnerability in it. It made him feel even worse, which only exacerbated the crazy panic within him. He didn’t know how to deal with this kind of situation.
“Canna trust them,” he said.
“Ugh, you’re just like everyone else. A stupid bigot. What, you get screwed by a soulceress once?”
He started to speak, but wasn’t sure what he would say. Aye, she made me the monster that I am?
She didn’t give him a chance. “You know what? Forget I asked. My mistake. And I don’t care, anyway. I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody.”
She threw herself onto the couch.
Now what the hell was he supposed to do? What were they supposed to do? They worked together now and he’d made a mess of things, all in an effort to preserve his stupid sanity. Which was a worthless endeavor. He’d lost it long ago.
Chapter 33
Diana opened her eyes in the forest in central England. Esha had created a portal for her that morning, and though stepping into it alone had been like stepping off a bridge, she’d done it. She’d learned that Esha was friends with Andrasta, but that she didn’t have the power to summon the goddess.
It was fine, though. Diana had a good feeling that this would work. Her memory had restored the location of the place where she’d originally called upon Andrasta for help. It was also the place where she’d died, but Diana pushed the nerves away and looked around at the forest. She was only a few miles from the Roman fort she’d visited with Cadan. She had to come alone to ensure that Andrasta would show, and she was probably safe, but she gripped her sword tighter just in case.
The smell of the trees hit her first. It had smelled like this when she’d died. A light sweat broke out on her skin. Everything else was different, but as she walked through the forest, she swore she could smell the mud and the blood of war that lingered in the earth. Though they hadn’t fought on this ground, the battle had been waged only a hundred yards away.
No, this ground was soaked with her own blood. She stopped in a particularly thick copse of trees and began to dig at the soil with her foot, nudging aside fallen branches and piles of dead autumn leaves. It wasn’t long before she found the tumbled ring of stones that had once formed the walls of the house where she’d died. Dappled sunlight shone through the oaks above and danced in patterns on the stone.
As she revealed the rest of the ring, now rising only a couple of inches above the ground, she fought the nausea rising in her stomach. Instinct had led her here, as it had told her to clear the stones.
A raven called as she brushed the leaves off the last stone. Diana shivered. Once every stone was revealed, she stood in the spot where she had died. Where she’d been trussed up by Cadan on the night of the battle.
She had to assume he’d be able to resist his instincts this time around and let her fight her battles. He’d managed to in their first attempt against Paulinus, but there had been little risk then. With everything she’d learned, this was only getting more dangerous. Honestly, though Boudica had wanted to go it alone, she, Diana, would rather work with Cadan. She just hoped he would agree to do it on her terms. She shook the thought away and knelt on the ground.