“When?”
“When she was dying, or whatever she was doing. She made me promise to stay here and to keep the rules. And I did—promise I mean—then as soon as she was gone, I packed up and left.”
She poured the coffee and sank into one of the chairs, cradling the hot mug in her hands. Christian drank his coffee fast. “I’m going to take a quick look around outside, then I need to find somewhere to spend the day.”
“There’s a cellar.”
“Sounds good.”
She watched as he went out the door, closing it behind him and leaving her alone.
…
Outside, the snow had stopped falling. A couple of inches lay on the ground but Christian didn’t notice the cold as he walked around the house. The clouds had also cleared, the black sky was studded with stars, and a sickle moon shone overhead, reflecting off the snow.
The house had a strange, timeless feel, and he knew there was magic at work. Powerful magic, as though they were in a bubble cut off from the outside world. He searched the area, trying to get a sense of the source.
A wall ran around the entire property. He walked toward the nearest section and put his hand to the cold stone. The hum of magic ran through it, sending a frisson of shock up his arm and down through his body. It was the same magic warding the gates. He strolled the perimeter, touching the wall with his fingertips. The circle was unbroken.
It was probably safe for Tara to remove the talisman inside the wards. He might get the chance to discover what she hid under there. Someone had paid a high price to give this level of protection, and he was betting the cost wasn’t only money. Dark magic was stronger but always demanded a blood price. Whose blood had paid for this, and why?
About time they found out.
He turned back to the house. In the kitchen, Tara was slumped over the table, another cup of coffee in front of her, and a pile of blankets and pillows at her feet. She wasn’t moving, and a flash of alarm shot through him. He touched her arm lightly and she shifted under his hand, moaning softly. She was fast asleep.
He sat down opposite her. Her head rested on her folded arms, one side of her face turned toward him, and his eyes ran over the pure line of her cheek, the arching curve of her brow. There was a slight shadowing beneath her eye, and one hand clenched the talisman as it lay, still around her neck, on the table.
Someone had done all this to protect Tara. Would she still be here if the aunt had not “died”? What had gone wrong? Had the magic binding Kathryn Collin’s soul to the earth failed? Or had the spell been deliberately broken? Was someone, even now, hunting for Tara?
An overwhelming need to protect her rose up inside him, hitting him hard in the gut. Tara was his to care for, and whoever came after her would have to go through him first.
Mine, the word screamed in his head.
He couldn’t ever remember feeling this way—he wanted to keep her close and safe. The thought pulled him up short. It wasn’t in his nature to care, certainly not for a human because a relationship could only be fleeting. He should find out whatever was after her, destroy them, and afterward, he would find the strength to walk away and leave her to her normal life.
He stroked the hair from her face. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, “I didn’t sleep much last night.” She took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “Cold,” she muttered putting the cup down. “So did you find anything out there?”
“The whole place is warded. In effect, we’re inside a spell that I believe stops anything on the outside from sensing the presence of anyone within its boundaries.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know, but it’s probably safe to take off the talisman here.”
“Then why did Aunt Kathy always insist I wear it here.”
“Probably just being extra cautious. So are you willing to try?”
“It’s what we’re here for, but do you think we can leave it until tomorrow night? I’m tired and… Maybe I just want to forget about it for a little while.”
He nodded. “It’s not long until dawn.”
“Do you have to sleep during the day?”
“I no longer have to sleep, but it is preferable.”
She hesitated for a moment then asked, “Do you sleep alone?”
She watched him out of those enormous expressive eyes. And he knew she would spend the day with him. All he had to do was ask, and he could have anything he wanted from her.
Her body and her blood.
A wave of heat washed over him, and for a moment his resolve weakened and a slow fire started in his belly. He shook his head—this would only make the inevitable parting harder. Only minutes ago, he’d decided they could have no future. Most of his existence, he had taken what he wanted and not thought about the price. Now he found he didn’t want Tara to pay.
Did he sleep alone? He rose to his feet. “Always.”
Chapter Twelve