BlackMoon Reaper (25 page)

Arawn said it was because Spiosyn had gone from a treasured national hero to a

despised demon whose name was never spoken aloud on Rysalia.”

“Nor is the name of the man who fought that battle alongside him,” Kheelan

admitted in a quiet voice. “Both names are cursed.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he repeated, eyebrows elevated. “Because of the evil the two of us did!”

“Yet here you are,” she said. “You sit as High Lord of the most strategically

important country on this world, seeing to the welfare of its inhabitants, keeping them

safe from evil. Your word is law on this world and even if you are feared, you are

greatly respected. Your men would lay down their lives for you.”

“They might have before Morrigunia told them what a craven bastard I am,” he

countered. “Now when they look at me, all they’ll see is an adulterous prick whose lust

destroyed an entire world.”

“A world that prospers from what Arawn says of Rysalia.”

“Aye, well, it took three thousand years for it to become what it is today,” he

grumbled.

“Holy shit!” she said, causing him to look up at her. “Are you really that old, Ben-

Alkazar?”

His lips twitched. “Aye, wench. I am really that old.”

“Huh.” The one word was an expression of astonishment. She shook her head.

“Ain’t that a kick in the danglies?”

He smiled. “You’re good for me, Aingeal. You know that? You have this way of

whittling a man down to size. I think that’s why I fell in love with you.”

She scooted back so she too could lean against the wall. “When did you decide that,

Kheelan?”

She was giving him the opening to bring it out into the light of day yet for a

moment he didn’t answer. Finally, he stretched out his long legs out and dropped his

hands into his lap.

“The first time I saw you was through Cynyr’s eyes,” he said. “I sensed great anger

coming from the Reaper and so I slipped into his mind. It was in that alley where Cynyr

saved you from being raped. He barely glanced at you—more concerned with

dispatching the man who had attacked you—but I saw the expression on your face. You

were terrified at what you’d seen, shaking like a leaf in a strong wind yet even though

seeing a man’s head sliced from his body you followed Cynyr to his campsite. You had

courage.”

“I was cold and starving,” she said. “I hoped when he went to sleep I could

rummage through his saddlebags and find a biscuit or some hardtack.”

125

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Kheelan smiled. “You went after him with every intention of becoming his woman,

wench, because you knew he protected women and you needed protection from

Otaktay.”

“That too,” she said then returned his smile. “And he was so cute.”

Kheelan chuckled. “If you say so.”

“He was and still is.”

“And you weren’t in the least afraid of him,” he said. “I found that remarkable

since most women are terrified of Reapers. I lurked there in his mind watching the two

of you sparring, amused by the whole thing. I think the moment I began to love you

was when you goaded him into showing you his fangs. He—and I—thought once he

did that, you’d back off, but instead, you just stared at him. I’ll never forget your words,

‘Damn. No wonder you guys are so feared. Bet you could open a can of beans with

those in a heartbeat, huh.’” He laughed again. “I believe that’s when Cynyr began to

love you too.”

“We made love right after that,” she remembered. “Did you watch that too?”

“Gods no!” he said, horrified she’d think he would. “I’ve never watched any of our

Reapers and their ladies and especially not you and Cynyr!”

“So it was my feisty nature that attracted you,” she said.

“That and I wanted nothing more than to protect you. I ordered him to bring you

with him to the Citadel.” He winced, thinking back on something else he’d told Cynyr.

“What?”

He released a long, harsh breath. “I told him he didn’t deserve a woman like you.”

“Why would you do that?” she asked, brows drawn together.

“Because I hadn’t felt that kind of attachment in my soul for another human being

for millennia, Aingeal—what soul I have left at any rate. I wanted you here so I could

meet you. I knew you were off limits but it didn’t matter. I just wanted to be in the same

room with you.”

“Egad, Kheelan. Do you know how sad that sounds?” she asked.

“Aye, I do,” he admitted.

“So, was I everything you thought I’d be?” she questioned.

“And more. Do you remember when you were taken to watch his punishment? Do

you remember what happened there at the end?”

“Vaguely.”

“Liar,” he accused. “You remember every moment of it.”

“I try not to remember it.”

“You came to Level One with the decision that you would not grovel to the High

Council. You would bestow grudging respect upon me and my fellow Shadowlords,

but you would not kowtow to us. I respected that in you. I admired it. I regretted

ordering you to witness Cynyr’s Transition, to see him in such a state. I saw the pain on

126

BlackMoon Reaper

your face, the shame on his. Then you demanded that I end his punishment. You were

looking at me with such contempt, such hatred, and you didn’t back down in ordering

me to stop the punishment. I think if I hadn’t, you would have come after me.”

“I would have,” she admitted.

He shook his head. “No one had ever spoken to me in that way. No one would have

ever dared yet there you stood with your chin in the air, your eyes locked on me and I

backed down. I had no choice. You didn’t give me one. I ordered his punishment

stopped.”

“I was grateful that you did,” she told him. “More grateful than you’ll ever know.”

“Then you astounded me even more by going into the con cell to give him the

tenerse.” He cocked his head to one side. “Do you know how scared I was, Aingeal? I

was terrified he’d attack you, hurt you. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life

to allow you to walk into that cell and do what you did.” He stared at her for a long,

long time. “That is the moment I knew I would love you forever.”

Aingeal drew a long breath then exhaled. “I love my husband, Kheelan.”

“I know you do.”

“Yet a part of me has feelings for you that run very deep. Is it love? Aye, it is a type

of love.”

“The love of a friend,” he stated.

“No, it goes deeper than that. It’s more like family, like a brother.”

“Oh for joy!” he said, not unkindly. “That’s always what a man wants to hear.”

“It will never be anything more than that kind of love, Kheelan,” she told him.

He gave her another long, silent look. “Do you know how much power the goddess

gave me all those millennia ago?” he queried. “How powerful I really am?”

“No.”

He lifted his hand, held it out with the palm turned upward. Slowly he closed his

hand into a fist.

Aingeal felt the tugging upon her body. She had to strain to keep from sliding

across the floor and into his lap. Her eyes widened.

“At any time, Aingeal,” he said. “At any time I could have raised my hand to

summon you to me and you would have had no choice but to come. You would have

come straight from your husband’s bed into mine without as much as a blink of your

eyes. You would have done whatever I asked for as long as I asked it of you. You would

have forgotten Cynyr Cree and your infant son and even the one growing inside you

right now.”

Aingeal covered her stomach with her hands.

“All I would have needed to do was implant a tiny seed in your mind and I would

have become your entire world. Nothing and no one else would have mattered.”

“You wouldn’t have done that,” she stated.

127

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“No?”

“No.”

He waved his hand. A scene from many months earlier in this very room flashed

before her. She had gone searching for Kheelan to demand Owen Tohre’s sentence be

reduced.

“What can I do to help change your mind about this, Kheelan?”

“Don’t put this on a personal level unless you are willing to deal with the results, Aingeal,”

he cautioned her.

Her chin came up. “Name your price.”

His eyes narrowed. “And if the price is too high? If it’s one you’re unwilling to pay?”

She did not respond to his goading. She held his hot stare with her cool one, daring him to do

his worst.

Minutes ticked by and neither blinked. At last it was the Shadowlord who gave in to the

silent contest of wills.

“All right, Aingeal,” he said in a low, husky voice. “Here’s the deal—I want a kiss from

you. Not some perfunctory bussing, no fleeting press of your lips to mine, no simpering touch of

mouth to mouth but an honest to goodness, solid, sensual kiss—your honeyed tongue halfway

down my gods-be-damned throat—your body jammed so hard against mine I’ll feel the imprint

of your nipples and, baby, you’d better put everything you’ve got into that kiss if you want me to

even think about changing my mind.”

Aingeal stepped back from him. She could see the heavy erection pressing at the front of his

robe and the fists he kept clenching and unclenching as he stood there. Sweat was clinging to his

upper lip, his eyes were flint hard, his breathing harsh and ragged as though he’d just run a race.

His smile was slow and hated and infuriating.

“I didn’t think so,” he said with a snort, and turned to walk away.

She grabbed his arm to jerk him back around. She pulled him to her and her arms went

around his neck, her body slammed into his and her mouth was on his before his arms slid

around her to mold her to him as though they were one entity. Her tongue thrust between his

lips and dueled with his until she heard him groan low and deep, and knew the sound had come

from his very soul.

Neither one of them realized how brutal that kiss was going to be until he broke away from

her, putting distance between them. He was trembling from head to toe, his chest heaving and

one hand out as though to keep her at bay.

“Great god almighty,” she heard him whisper.

She recovered first. She cleared her throat. “Six months.”

He shook his head. “Eight.”

“Not good enough,” she said, wiping a hand over her mouth. “Seven.”

“Eight,” he stated. He met her stare

“I want your word he’ll be out in time to be there when his son is delivered.”

128

BlackMoon Reaper

He nodded.

“Just so you know,” she said, edging toward the door. “I will tell Cynyr about this.”

He shook his head. “No, you won’t.”

“Oh but I will,” she said. “I won’t keep something like this from him. I…”

“You’ll forget it the moment you leave this room,” he said, holding her glower.

“Oh no…”

“This whole thing will be wiped from your mind the instant you walk out the door.”

“You have that much power?” she asked.

“More than you can imagine,” he responded. “And just so you’ll know, if I had wanted

more than a kiss, I would have taken it, Aingeal. If I had been a less honorable man, I would have

demanded your body to seal the deal, not just your lips, and I would have gotten that too. Now

get the hell out of here while I’m still an honorable man because that gods-be-damned honor is

dissolving fast!”

Aingeal scrambled for the door, fleeing as though the hounds of hell were after her. The

moment she stepped outside the room, the memory of the kiss vanished.

She put a hand to her lips. “You kissed me.”

“Aye, I did, and I could have done more. You would never have known.”

“But you wouldn’t have,” she said. “Could you have lived with it if you had?”

Kheelan released a ragged breath. “No, my love, I couldn’t have and that is why I

would never bring you to me.” His eyes misted with moisture. “I want to. The gods

know I want to, but it will never happen.”

Aingeal got to her feet. A part of her wanted to go to him but she knew that would

be asking for trouble. It hurt her to see him so unhappy, so alone.

“Kheelan, I…”

He held up a hand. “Go, Aingeal. Please. We’ve said everything we need to. Go

back to your husband and your son.”

“But…”

“I made my bed and I have to lie in it. Now go.” He turned his face from her,

dismissing her. “And forget that scene I showed you. I don’t want you remembering the

kiss. It’s bad enough that I do.”

She turned and ran from the solarium, her heart breaking for him.

Long after she’d left, taking with her what little brightness he had left in his dark

world, he sat there staring at the door. A wry, sad smile pulled at his lips.

“I made my bed,” he whispered, “and I have to lie in it.”

Bitter tears fell down his cheek as he hung his head.

“Alone.”

129

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

* * * * *

The women were sitting in a circle, polite smiles of welcome on their faces. As the

wife of the Prime, Danielle had called the meeting of mates to induct into their very

private world the newest member—Lucy Louise Springbrook.