My Forbidden Desire (4 page)

“Your goddamned biological father knows about you now. Trust me, you weren’t safe the minute you sent Magellan that e-mail. You little idiot. Now they know you have a talisman, and they’re all going to take a shot at taking it from you.” Harsh was close to losing his cool. Be interesting to see what that was like. “If you think for a minute Rasmus Kessler isn’t coming after you for it, you’re a fool. And an even bigger one if you think he cares he’s your father.”

Xia shot to his feet, but Harsh ignored him. His sister took a look at him, but Harsh was going off, and that had her attention at the moment. “Are you fucking insane?” Xia said.

“Shut up, Xia. This is between me and Alexandrine.” “Were you even going to tell me who her father is? Fuck, Harsh. How can you even stand being around her knowing what she is?”

Harsh ignored him. “Rasmus Kessler gave you away, Alexandrine,” he said. “You didn’t test out as someone whose magic would amount to anything, so he sent you to live with us normals.” He spat out that last word. Harsh was hardly normal, no matter how you looked at him. “You were three years old, and he didn’t want you. He didn’t want you then, and he doesn’t want you now. The only thing he wants from you is that talisman.”

“I know that,” she said, all chilled and calm.

Xia’s head about exploded. He swung himself around to face Alexandrine, pulling enough magic to make the air around him spark. “You’re Rasmus Kessler’s daughter?”

“So?”

He should have known. He should have known the minute he saw her goddamned hair. Just like her father’s, the bastard mage.

“Xia!” Harsh tried to get between them, but Xia was so pissed off, he reacted on pure emotion. He pulled hard on his magic and threw a block of energy that set Harsh hard on his ass. One thing he didn’t get was that even though he’d pulled enough magic to fry the witch to hell and back twice, she didn’t pull any magic of her own. No retaliation.

“Drop dead,” Alexandrine said.

Harsh was on his feet now, and he was shouting. Xia tuned him out.
Blah blah blah.
Bad Xia.
Blah blah blah.
Nothing new there. His knife appeared in his hand, and he lifted it between him and the witch, imagining the scent of the blood she shared with Rasmus and watching it spill bright red from her body. His arm trembled. Her eyes got big and wide, and he could feel himself falling in. “Fucking witch,” he said.

“No.” Harsh got a hand on him, and the freak managed to pull enough to put a dent in the magic he had ready to strike. In the middle of all that, he felt Alexandrine pull, but what a joke that was.

“What do you think you’re going to do to me, witch? Tickle me to death?” He took a step closer. This near to her, he could feel the talisman’s pulse. Her magic, pitiful as it was, amped him up even more. Gave him a hell of a hard-on, too. “I eat witches like you for breakfast.”

She aimed a knee straight at his balls, but he stepped out of range just in time. Her magic cut off. The witch had nothing going.

“Get away from her, Xia. Right now.” Harsh moved between them, his fingers squeezing Xia’s knife hand. “Now. Or you’re dead.”

He looked at Harsh, and he could tell from the other man’s flinch that his eyes must be going off something serious. “Try it,” he said. His body twitched and buzzed with the magic flowing through him. “Just try it and we’ll see who’s dead when it’s over.”

“Let her go, Xia.” The asshole had one of those voices that got calmer and calmer the more things went wrong. “If I don’t kill you, Nikodemus will.” Harsh’s magic cycled like crazy, but the threat of Nikodemus’s reprisal was enough. Xia had sworn fealty to Nikodemus, and if he killed Harsh, Nikodemus would kill him. Painfully, no doubt about that. Harsh drew his sister away, and Xia closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And then another. Relax. Jaysus, she was nothing. Nothing to him. He didn’t care. Not about her. When he opened his eyes, he was under control. Mostly.

“You should have told me who she was,” he said.

“I didn’t know until five minutes ago.”

“What is the deal with you?” Alexandrine said to him. She was all pissed off, practically spitting. He didn’t give a shit about her mood. She came in close before Harsh could stop her and jabbed a finger to his chest.

“Get her away from me,” Xia said. The skin across his back started twitching again.

“Maniac,” she said. Her magic sputtered up again and then cut out.

He bared his teeth at her. “I’m what your kind made me. If you don’t like the result, that’s just too goddamned bad.”

“Xia.” Harsh was so calm he was freaky. “She doesn’t know her father. She may not even be right about that.”

Xia stuck his fingers in her hair and raked through her short cut. He didn’t see a single dark root. A natural platinum blonde. “That’s her daddy’s hair,” he sneered as he let her go.

The witch looked shocked as hell, and when she answered her brother, her eyes were still smack on Xia’s face. “Oh, I’m right about that, big brother. He’s my father, no mistake.”

“Fuck this, Harsh,” Xia said. How the hell was he going to manage this? Rasmus Kessler’s daughter. “Do I have to do this?”

She blocked Harsh’s view and faced him, giving him the finger so her brother couldn’t see. “Drop dead, okay?”

Harsh had his iPhone out again. “Yes,” he said to Xia. “You have to do this. You want me to call Nikodemus so you can hear it from him?”

“Fuck off.”

“If anything happens to my sister, Nikodemus will hold you personally responsible. And so will I. You have my guarantee.” He walked toward the door, his phone in hand. “I have to get going. We’re due in Paris tomorrow morning.”

“Fuck the others, too,” Xia said. Harsh was going off to help Nikodemus and Carson negotiate with the other warlords. Personally, he didn’t think the warlords would ever work together well enough to keep the kin safe from the magekind, but he was in no position to fault Nikodemus for his rosy outlook.

The witch narrowed her eyes at her brother. “Paris, France, or Paris, Texas?”

Harsh smiled and looked just like the human doc he supposedly used to be before he got all turned around. It made sense that Harsh’s sister turned out to be Rasmus Kessler’s daughter. Being a freak ran in the family.

“Paris, France,” Harsh told her.

“Paris would be a safe place for me, don’t you think?” Xia felt the panic underneath her words. “I have a passport. And enough money for a ticket. Won’t take me ten minutes to pack a bag, I swear. Je speak français muy bien.”

“You can’t come with me.”

“I don’t want to stay here with him.”

“He won’t hurt you. Will you, Xia?”

He curled a lip at Harsh. No. But he wanted to. Be fun to spill a little witch blood. Or a lot.

“Why don’t you just take the amulet, then?” Alexandrine said, all paniclike. Yeah, she ought to be afraid of him. “If it’s that important, just take it.”

Xia rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he said. “Go ahead. I want to see this.”

She whipped her head around to him. “I’m not talking to you.”

“You can’t do it,” Xia said. He made sure she saw him looking at her rack. “Not in a million years, baby.”

She put her hand to the cord around her neck. All she did was grip it, though. Didn’t take it off. He doubted she could. Not with the way that thing was leaking magic into her. “An old Turkish woman gave it to me. I had to hike three hours to get to her village. She said my father made it.” She touched her cheek. “She said I looked like him.”

“Except for the hair,” Xia said, “not that much.”

She turned on him. “Would you please butt out?”

“Xia,” Harsh said. He sighed. “That’s enough. Really.”

“Relax,” Xia said. “I’m not going to do anything to her. I just want to see if she can take off the talisman.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re a witch, lady. And the magekind don’t give up objects with that kind of power.” He held out a hand and lifted his eyebrows. “Go on, give it to me, baby.”

“Fine.”

He and Harsh watched her fingers tighten on the cord. “In my lifetime, maybe?” he said.

She stared at her brother, and while she did, her pupils dilated until there was practically no iris left. She wasn’t pulling, per se, because that implied some level of control, and by now he knew she didn’t have any control of her magic. No wonder Rasmus threw her away. Without control, she was worse than useless.

“I told you,” said Xia.

“Of course I can.” But she was whispering. Her fingers tightened on the cord.

“Oh, yeah?” Xia said. “Then do it already, why don’t you?”

“In a minute.” She licked her lips, but she didn’t move.

“Alexandrine?” Harsh exchanged a glance with Xia, who just shrugged. Point made. She couldn’t do it.

“I will. I’m going to.” Her hand shook.

“How long have you been wearing it?” Xia asked.

She looked relieved by the question. Sure she did. Because the question deflected the conversation from the fact that she couldn’t take off the talisman. “A few weeks.”

“Liar.”

She put her hands over her mouth and took a deep breath. Her eyes got all big and scared. The witch should have been scared the minute she touched the thing. She dropped her hands to her sides and addressed her answer to Harsh. “Since I got back from Turkey. Maybe nine months. A little less. What difference does it make?”

“What if you just showed us?” Harsh said. “Can you do that?”

The room got quiet. Perspiration dampened the hair at her forehead and temples. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked.

Harsh shook his head at him, and Xia ended up keeping his opinion about that to himself. “Try, Alexandrine,” Harsh said.

She lifted the hem of her blouse. The thong was long enough that the talisman hung nearly to her navel. Xia was impressed she could do that much. Harsh made a come-here gesture in his direction. “Take a look, would you, Xia?”

Xia came around to Alexandrine and knelt at her feet, because he was too tall to get a look any other way. He leaned in close enough that his breath made her skin twitch. Without needing to look hard, he knew both sides of the circle were carved; the front had a panther with a snarling mouth and extended claws. The reverse was the panther’s body from the back, including an about-to-twitch tail, with the sole difference that this side also had a carved face.

“Well?” Harsh said.

“I don’t know,” he said, because he didn’t see why he should make this easy for her. He knew what he was looking at. He squinted. “I can’t really see.” He looked up and winked at her right before he addressed her chest. “I think she needs to take off her top.”

“Perv.” She jerked down her shirt, but Xia’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. She yelped, and Harsh lunged.

“Chill,” he said, leaning in. “I’m just going to take a closer look. That’s all.”

“Xia. It’s the condition of the talisman that matters, not the shape and depth of my sister’s navel.”

“I don’t think it’s cracked.” Not yet.

“Don’t
think
?” Harsh said, and he didn’t sound too happy. The freak knew firsthand what could happen when a talisman cracked. If you weren’t prepared or didn’t have the magic to control the process, people died, and it usually wasn’t a pretty thing to see. An unstable talisman was dangerous. Flat-out dangerous.

Xia reached for the carved panther. If he hadn’t been holding her wrist, she would have jumped back. His fingers tightened on her. She didn’t want him touching it. The reaction, her need to get away, burned through her to him as clear as the freaking rain in Spain. Shit, that was unexpected. He blocked the mental contact with her.

“No!” The protest burst from her. Xia couldn’t help it. He enjoyed the fear coming from her. Nothing wrong with making a witch afraid.

“What?” Harsh asked.

“Something’s wrong,” she said. “It’s nothing but a bit of carved stone. It doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to.” Her voice was tight and breathy. “If it worked, if there was anything to it, I’d be able to do something with my magic, and I can’t. So why can’t I take it off?”

Xia ignored her panic, because why the hell did he care what happened to a witch? He sure as hell didn’t want another slipup that would connect him to her, though. He used the hilt of his knife to move the carving to one side.

Harsh said, “What’s that?”

“What?” She looked down. “Oh, that.” Where the amulet rubbed against her skin, there was a blue-gray impression of the carved surface. Not a bruise, more like a shadow. A perfect impression of the panther. “Right. I know. Bizarre, isn’t it? My skin reacts to something in the stone. You know, the way skin reacts to cheap metal jewelry. No big deal. It’ll fade when I take it off.” They looked at her, and it was obvious she totally didn’t get the absurdity of what she was saying. “What? I assume there’s a lot of iron oxide in the stone.”

“Mark of the beast, baby,” Xia said.

He kept the amulet to one side by letting it rest against the hilt of his knife. He moved the blade to one side and touched the discolored skin on her stomach. She happened to be looking down when he did. He got another jolt, and for a minute he didn’t see anything but white. When his vision cleared, he was looking directly into Alexandrine Marit’s eyes. In the expanse of time between their gazes locking and her blinking, he saw into her, a moment of flawless, infinite clarity. He could have touched her magic if he’d wanted to. She blinked, and everything went back to normal. Or almost normal. He rocked back on his heels with the snap of coming back to his own mind.