“No.”
She blinked, startled by the unequivocal refusal. Then she got pissed.
“I’ve spent my entire life being told what I can and can’t do by men,” she snapped, wishing she had the strength to shove him off her. Well, maybe she wouldn’t actually shove him off. Not when his thumb had found the tip of her breast and was teasing it with a skill that was making her back arch in silent invitation. But she wanted him to know her days of obedience were over. “From now on I intend to make my own decisions.”
His grim expression eased as his lips twitched at her bluster. “This has nothing to do with your newfound independence, princess.”
Her eyes narrowed. “It sounded like you just told me no.”
“I have a reason, I swear.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Just let me explain.”
Fallon pressed her lips together. Why did she find the oversized leech so damned charming?
“Fine.”
“We’ve already alerted the magic-user that the tunnels are being spied on.”
“And?”
“He can’t be certain who was watching the Oracles’ lair or why,” he said. “But if you continue to try and scry for him, then he’ll know that he’s been busted.”
Fallon frowned. She still wasn’t sure how the magic-user had managed to sense her scry or how he’d used the connection to attack them. The mystery was going to gnaw at her until she figured it out.
“Isn’t that what we want?” she demanded.
“Not if we aren’t in a position to capture him.”
She didn’t miss the fierce edge in his voice. Cyn clearly itched to repay the magic-user for nearly killing him.
A predictable male reaction.
“What does it matter if it stops the spell?” she demanded.
“Because we can’t be sure that he doesn’t have a partner with the power to trigger the Oracles into completing the spell. Or an even worse plot if this one fails.”
Hmm. She supposed it was possible that there was more than one enemy. And more than one plot.
Still, she sensed that she was being played by a master.
“I think you’re just trying to keep me from scrying,” she accused.
A half smile tugged at his lips as his gaze lowered to her naked breasts. “It won’t break my heart to know you aren’t putting yourself in danger.”
“I have to do something to help.”
“You can continue to keep track of the Oracles.”
“And?”
He shrugged. “And assist my search through the history books in my library,” he offered, his head lowering so he could use his tongue to trace the line of her jaw. “I agree with Styx. There’s something familiar about this. I’m hoping I’ve read about a similar spell in one of the books left behind by Erinna and Mika.”
Fallon grimaced. Growing up, her father had insisted that she spend hours in his library memorizing the various family bloodlines and where they fit in the complex social ranks. As if she actually cared whether the eldest daughter of the Morcella House should be greeted before the third son of the Vestres House.
“I thought everyone in this world used something called Google?”
Cyn gave a soft laugh. “Or we could stay here and forget about the Commission and evil magic-users.”
Fallon swallowed a groan as his fangs scraped down the length of her neck. Oh. Yes. This suddenly seemed like a much, much better idea. Already her body was melting in anticipation, her legs parting so he could settle more firmly against her.
Losing herself in the pleasure of Cyn’s touch was far preferable to worrying about shunnings, and ex-fiancés, and crazed magic-users.
Still, a tiny voice in the back of her head whispered that indulging her seemingly endless hunger for this vampire wasn’t without risk.
Unlike Chatri males, Cyn didn’t make her feel as if she were a mindless object he needed to control. Just the opposite. When she was in his arms she had the unshakable sense she was . . . cherished.
A sensation that was as dangerous as Magnus’s indifference.
No. More dangerous.
Her fiancé might have considered himself her master, but he’d never had the ability to truly touch her. Not on an emotional level.
But Cyn . . . he was inching perilously close to stealing her heart.
“We can’t,” she breathed.
He nibbled along the line of her collarbone. “Of course we can.”
Her eyes slid closed, swiftly forgetting why this was a bad idea.
“Cyn.”
His thumb circled the tight nub of her nipple. “Aye, princess?”
“We should be searching for the magic-user.”
“We will,” he assured her. “Later.”
Clearly determined to divert her, he captured her lips, his tongue urging hers to part and allow him entry.
She quivered, briefly yielding to the desire pounding through her before she turned her head just enough to break the soul-melting kiss.