Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (57 page)

I wondered whether strangling him so soon after rescue would be a problem for anyone. Certainly, Kieran wouldn’t care, judging by the incendiary glare he’d leveled at his cousin.

Before Kieran could respond, I snapped, “You know that free pass I gave you, about saying something cocky?” I folded my arms and glared at him. “It’s revoked. Don’t make me regret saving you.” I turned back to Kim. “Now, what about Lorcán? Did he make it to Evgrenya’s gateway? Is he on his way to claim me, or not?”

“You and Tíereachán are
bound
?” Fisk practically exploded.

I slapped my hand to my forehead and growled. It was either that or smack the shit out of Tíereachán, or possibly Fisk. I nearly gave into the violence option when Tíereachán and I answered at the same time. “No,” I shouted.

“Yes,” he replied, looking as brazen and self-assured as a runway model. If his voice could walk, it would swagger.

I glared into his infuriatingly smug blue eyes. “Tíereachán, for the last damned time—you are not my soul mate.”

“No, my love, but we are irrevocably bound. This is a connection that cannot be denied. And, as to the rest …” He waved his hand casually before finishing, “It is simply a matter of time.” He smiled brilliantly if not suggestively. “I am patient.”

Kim surged upright to stand next to the coffee table, but it was unquestionably Brassal’s command that came out of her mouth. She glared at me, her eyes narrowed and flinty. “Explain this.
Now
.”

I threw up my hands and barely stopped myself from biting out every curse word in my vocabulary. Instead, I launched into a terse retelling of how Tíereachán, in his guise as Paimon, had roped me into a blood pact that I later nullified.

Kim turned her angry, astonished gaze to Kieran. “You knew?”

“Of course.”

“And you didn’t think to share it with me?” she practically roared.

“No,” he replied coolly. “It wasn’t any of your business.”

“The hell it isn’t!”

Kieran sighed. “Brassal, calm down before Kim ruptures something. They are not soulbound. That is the material point. The rest is a private matter between Lire and myself. If she wishes to share her thoughts with you, that is her decision.”

She issued a series of words, probably Silven curses, and then said, “You do realize, the King will come unglued when he hears this? For pity’s sake, I’m waiting in his antechamber right now!”

“Nice,” I retorted, “While you’re at it, don’t forget to tell him all about my adept skills too. God knows what he’ll do then.”

Fisk barked a short laugh. “No mystery there. Kieran or … Lorcán was it? It makes no difference. Being your mate is a death sentence.”

Tíereachán straightened in his chair, his expression turning stony. “Saorlaith is dead?”

Wade nodded.

“Fuck.”

I stared at Tíereachán, eyes wide. I couldn’t recall ever hearing him curse before. “Who’s Saorlaith?”

“She was the King’s mate,” Kieran answered.

A definite undercurrent zinged between Fisk, Wade, Tíereachán, and Kieran. I gazed between them, trying to make sense of it. “What difference does it make that’s she’s dead? Was she the King’s voice of reason or something?”

Fisk looked at me as though he’d seen golems with more intelligence. “Use your head. The King is unattached. Once he learns you’re an adept, he will stop at nothing to claim you himself. And when he learns Tíereachán has a head start …” He shook his head.

I felt the blood drain from my face. Dealing with Lorcán was one thing. Fighting the King of the sidhe was quite another. I didn’t know how powerful he was, but I surely didn’t want to find out. He ruled over a race of magic-wielding warriors, for God’s sake.

Kim or, rather, Brassal, cursed. “I’ll do what I can. The King is ready to receive us.” She blinked, staggered backward, and sat hard on the couch. Jackie immediately grasped her hand.

Although I filled my lungs, I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. Why hadn’t Kim or Kieran mentioned the King’s single status earlier?

Because Kim just learned of your adept abilities thirty minutes ago. Bonehead.

That sure didn’t excuse Kieran, though.

Michael appeared at my side. With hardly a glance, he tossed the clothes he’d collected into Tíereachán’s lap and studied me. “What happened? Lire, what’s wrong?”

“I … uh …” I’d never been the fainting type, but I worried the spots blotting my vision would soon prove otherwise. “I … need to … sit,” I wheezed out.

Hand at my elbow, Michael propelled me the two steps to my chair. Once I was settled, he turned to the others. “What the hell is going on?”

Kim stood. “I’ll fill you in. We need to get outside anyway. Your telepaths are probably getting antsy.” Shifting her attention toward Wade and Fisk, she inclined her head and clipped out, “It was an honor to meet you both. Before you go, please lift the ward. In fact, the sooner the better.”

Michael leaned down to me, uncertainty playing on his face. “You going to be okay? You want me to stay?”

I shook my head, trying to project calm. “No. It’s okay. I’m fine. Go on. You’ve got important stuff to deal with.”

Looking doubtful, he nodded. “Okay. But if you need me, I’ll be right outside.” He shot a meaningful glare at both Tíereachán and Kieran before following Kim and Jackie out the front door.

What was I going to do?

Tíereachán, now clothed in black track pants and snug white t-shirt, squatted next to my chair. He rested his arm along the thick padded armrest. Like Kieran, he had very little body hair. Absently, I followed the line of his muscular forearm up toward the swell of his biceps, which looked set to burst the seams of his sleeve.

“Lire, listen to me.” His soft voice drew my attention back to his eyes. The fact that he didn’t leer at my absent perusal was reason enough to spark my concern. “The Compact prohibits any of the Amhaín’s subjects from offering you asylum, but they will grant it if you ask. And you
must
ask. The King has waited almost two thousand years for an adept. He will stop at nothing to claim you. If he has access to Evgrenya’s gateway, it is just a matter of time before he unleashes the
Wuldrífan
to find you. Not even the Compact will stand in his way.” He glanced past my shoulder, probably at Kieran, before returning his gaze to me. “Even with my cousin and me at your side, we cannot stand against the Wild Hunt, much less the whole of his army. You must take refuge within the Amhaín’s borders. I see no other option.”

I glanced at Wade and Fisk for confirmation. They didn’t appear particularly eager, but they weren’t disputing Tíereachán’s scenario either. And I had little doubt Fisk would have spouted a lungful of profanity if Tíereachán had dared to misrepresent the Amhaín or her policies.

“For how long?” I asked, hating that I sounded like a mouse.

“At least until you’ve mastered your skills. If you have half as much talent as I think you do, you’ll make quick work of learning how to evade even the most determined of attackers. But until then, you’re vulnerable.”

I wished I knew what Kieran wanted. If I took refuge in the Amhaín’s territory, would he go with me? Did the thought of our separation snag his heart, at least a little?

When I glanced over, he seemed wholly impassive. If it weren’t for the steady tap of his index finger against his folded right elbow, I might have been fooled, but that little gesture told me he wasn’t as calm as he wanted me and the others to believe.

Tíereachán hadn’t seen his mother for years and years—more than a thousand, right? So, could he honestly guarantee that, once I arrived in the Amhaín’s domain, I wouldn’t be kept prisoner? Would his mother teach me what I needed to know without any form of payment or quid pro quo? Supposedly, she and her followers didn’t believe in killing humans indiscriminately, but that didn’t necessarily mean they thought humans were their equals.

And what about my life here on Earth? My job? My friends and coworkers—Julie, Jack, Claude. My sister and nephews. Michael. What would I tell them? How long would I be gone? Would they be in danger? I covered my face. The whole thing was too surreal. Unfathomable. The King was the bogeyman. There was no such thing as the bogeyman. I wanted to discount the whole thing, which pretty much guaranteed I wouldn’t be as terrified as I should be. Although, Tíereachán’s ominous demeanor sure managed to overwork my alarm bells.

But it didn’t unsettle me nearly as much as Kieran’s continued silence.

When I dropped my hands, Tíereachán wasn’t quick enough to cover his irate glare, which he’d leveled over my shoulder at Kieran.

What was that about?

Wade stood. “If you’ll excuse us for a moment, John and I will deal with the remaining keystones. I’m sure the telepaths want to deal with their fallen comrades as soon as possible.”

After they’d disappeared down the basement stairs, Tíereachán grasped my right hand and briefly pressed it to his lips. He glanced at Kieran before giving me a meaningful stare. “Never forget, you have my undying friendship, no matter what you decide. As long as I live, you will never be alone. Just say the word and I am at your service, no matter the capacity.” Getting to his feet, he announced, “I need some air. If either of you need me, I’ll be outside.”

As he passed Kieran, I heard him growl something, but I didn’t catch it nor did Kieran offer him a reply.

After Tíereachán shut the front door behind him, I stood, folding my arms tight over my abdomen. “Why didn’t you tell me about the King?”

“I didn’t wish it to influence you. You needed the freedom to make your own decisions.”

“Yes.
Informed
decisions,” I said and threw up my arms. “The unwelcome and potentially ruthless interest of a freakishly powerful sidhe King with the backing of an entire army is a big fucking deal, Kieran. That’s not the kind of thing you keep a secret, for shit’s sake.”

Rather than shaking him and shouting, ‘What the hell is the matter with you?’ I issued a frustrated grunt and stalked several feet away.

He had deliberately kept me in the dark. Why?

I guess that depended upon what he wanted out of all of this.

According to Kieran, he wanted to keep me safe. He wanted to prevent anyone from taking away my freedom. At the time, he’d been so earnest, I hadn’t questioned it. But that was before he’d admitted to knowing about my adept abilities. So, once again, I had to wonder whether he had ulterior reasons for keeping me safe.

And for seducing me.

Okay. Let’s say I’d known about the King, yesterday. Would I have done anything differently?

Maybe. Maybe not.

I turned around. “Is the King obligated to honor the same laws as his people?”

He frowned, studying me intently. “Yes, of course.”

Right.

That being the case … If the King had any inkling about the extent of my abilities, he’d be stupid to rescind Maeve’s order. It wouldn’t be advantageous for him to do so. He needed Kieran to remain outcast, just in case Kieran and I bonded. Because, that way, the King would be within his rights to kill him. This was the same issue we’d discussed about Lorcán, except, unlike Lorcán, I was pretty sure Kieran was out of his league with the King. To say nothing of his army.

Brassal’s notion that all of our problems would be solved as soon as Kieran and I bonded had just exploded with the revelation of my adept abilities. So, if Kieran had designs on me, that would be reason enough, right there, for him to keep the King thing a secret.

Then there was the whole ‘Deceiver’ business, which seemed to revolve around his previous mate, Nuala. Deep down, I knew Michael and Tíereachán were right. Kieran hadn’t told me about his dark secret because it was something that might color my opinion about him, earn my immediate distrust, or, maybe even prompt me to keep my distance.

My stomach constricted in the way it always did right before I learned something bad.

“I think I might know, but I’d like to hear all of it, the real reason, not the evasive one. Why did you keep the situation with the King a secret? I guess I can understand why you didn’t mention it right at the beginning, but why didn’t you say something yesterday? It was pretty damned pertinent to the situation with Lorcán. And we had plenty of time alone when you could have told me.”

He frowned, looking distinctly uncomfortable, but didn’t respond. Whether it was because he didn’t want me to know, couldn’t think of what to say, or was embarrassed, I couldn’t say.

“If I mean anything to you, anything at all, now is the time to talk, to tell me what’s going on with you. With
this
. Otherwise …” I sucked in a shaking breath and said, “I don’t think it’s going to work between us. We should probably … move on.” I looked away and added, my voice dwindling to a strained whisper, “You can forget we ever met.”

“Do you honestly believe it would be easy for me to forget such a thing?” Pressing his lips together, he stared at me. He could have been at war internally or making shopping lists—his expression gave little away.

“How am I supposed to know?” I asked, my fists clenching at my sides. “You close yourself to me at every turn. You evade my questions. You reveal almost nothing of yourself while I reveal everything. Don’t you understand what that does to me? I spend all my time thinking the worst, that you’re only interested in me because you want to control me, to control my abilities, to keep the Amhaín or Tíereachán from getting their hands on me. I’m not stupid, Kieran. If not for this obsession with your duty and my adept abilities, you’d have
never
chosen me for a lover. I mean, why would you? I’m a freckle-faced, thirty-year-old
human
who has done nothing but complicate your life.”

“And yet, there is no complication I wouldn’t endure for the chance at true happiness,” he replied.

My heart fluttered at the urgency of his words, and I wanted to strangle him for it. “See?” I jabbed my hand toward him. “There you go, again. Pretty words that make me weak at the knees until I snap out of it and realize you’ve told me absolutely nothing.”