“Of course it would,” she muttered.
“Why?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, stop saying ‘Why?’,” she snapped, forcing herself to scoot off the slab and stand on her shaky legs.
Where the hell were Levet and the druids?
Magnus stepped nearer, his fingers closing around her upper arms.
“You think I’m arrogant,” he said.
“Because you are.”
He frowned, staring at her as if she were a ginormous puzzle.
“You believe I was cruel to Fallon.”
She hunched a shoulder. If she had to hear that woman’s name on his lips one more time . . .
“You were,” she said in clipped tones.
“You don’t like me.”
His touch was like a brand against her raw skin. So acutely pleasurable it was almost painful.
“You can be an ass,” she said, her voice husky.
His fingers skimmed up her arms, the heat of him wrapping around her with an intimate promise.
“So why do you care if I survive?”
Her lips parted to give a flippant response, then snapped shut as her breath tangled in her throat. Just for the briefest second she’d caught sight of something in those amazing cognac eyes.
Something that looked remarkably like vulnerability.
“Oh hell,” she muttered, heaving a deep sigh. “You’ve grown on me.”
His brows drew together. “Grown?”
“I . . .” She licked her dry lips. “I would miss you if you weren’t around.”
The world halted, the air heavy with a sense of anticipation as Magnus slowly lowered his head.
“You’ve grown on me as well,” he confessed, brushing her lips with a soft, reverent kiss. Her toes curled, something deep inside her melting. God Almighty, she was in trouble. He pressed another kiss to her lips, this one staking his claim before he lifted his head to regard her with a brooding gaze. “But if you ever do anything so foolish again I will have you chained to the wall.”
Ignoring the pleasure that continued to shiver through her, Tonya went onto her tiptoes so they were nose to nose.
“I’d like to see you try.”
He gave a low growl, reclaiming her lips in a kiss that made her forget her aching head, their damp surroundings, and the fact they’d nearly been exploded into a thousand tiny pieces.
There was no telling how long they would have remained lost in one another if someone hadn’t loudly cleared their throat, making Tonya abruptly pull away.
Glancing over Magnus’s shoulder, she discovered Levet standing near the circle of stones.
“You can kissy-face later,” the gargoyle chided. “The druids need you.”
Magnus muttered a low curse before he grudgingly released his hold on Tonya.
“Someday I’m going to kill that gargoyle.”
Levet gave a flick of his wings. “If only I had a euro for every time I have heard that.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cyn wasn’t happy as he watched as Styx and Viper silently faded into the early-evening darkness before he turned and headed toward the bluff overlooking the Mississippi River.
It had been less than an hour since Fallon had created a portal so they could travel to Chicago.
No surprise that Styx had been waiting for their arrival along with Viper and Dante. But when Cyn had been prepared to insist that Fallon remain in the safety of the Anasso’s lair while they travel to the caverns where the Oracles were gathered, the aggravating princess had neatly outwitted him by insisting her brief meeting with Siljar meant that she could use her as an anchor to open a portal.
He’d forbidden her to come, of course.
A total waste of time.
Not only had Fallon ignored him, but Styx had refused to listen to reason. Instead he’d agreed with Fallon, firmly overriding Cyn’s protest.
At least the aggravating bastard had drawn the line at letting Fallon go charging into the caves in search of the magic-user, he wryly acknowledged. That was something.
Stepping through the tight cluster of trees, he found Fallon waiting for him exactly where he’d left her. A wry smile touched his lips. It would be nice to think she’d stayed there because he’d asked her to, but the truth was that she was standing at the edge of her portal to keep it open.
There was a very real possibility they would need a quick getaway and she was there to provide it.
He halted at her side, pulling free the large sword he’d strapped to his back before leaving his lair.
“What’s happening?” Fallon demanded, her beautiful face pale but set in lines of grim determination.
His heart twisted. The prehistoric male inside him wanted to treat Fallon as a pampered Chatri princess that needed to be protected against the world. But he wasn’t entirely stupid. This female had been denied the right to discover exactly who she was and what she was capable of accomplishing for far too long.
He couldn’t deny her the right to prove her worth.