Shadowlander (16 page)

“What about him?” Cate asked, glancing at Kallus.

Rook glanced at his fallen comrade, who still lay in the snow. “As much as I’d like to leave him here, I can’t. He’ll have to face losing the Cattan.” He snapped his fingers and Kallus disappeared, leaving the indent of his big body in the snow. “The healers in Seaneath will see to him. What did you strike him with, anyway?”

“Some rusted iron nails my grandmother gave me for protection.”

Rook raised a brow, then smiled. “Resourceful. Quick. Decisive. I like that in a wife.”

“Wouldn’t it be wise to ask me to marry you first?”

“This is hardly the right setting. Close your eyes.” Cate closed her eyes and still saw the blinding flash of light through the thin skin of her eyelids.

She blinked and found they were back at Rook’s palace on the beach. Her clothes and his were dripping wet, forming spreading puddles on the white marble floor.

“How did you get us here?”

“I can transport to places I’ve been before.”

She smacked him on the chest with her hand. “You mean you could have gotten us to Seaneath that quickly? Why didn’t you?”

He gave her a killer smile, passion smoldering in his eyes as he first peeled off his coat, then her cold, wet clothing. “I needed to have my powers recharged first, and if I remember correctly, we were rudely interrupted.”

Cate smiled and began to help Rook, indulging in the heat and hardness of him. “Can I go back at any time I want?”

“You mean to Upland?”

She nodded.

“You can if you let me go with you. Much will change between our worlds once the invasion begins. We hope to bring back balance.”

“What if Uplanders are perfectly happy the way they are?”

“You can’t stop change, Cate. Only delay it. We hope it will be for all our greatest good.”

She spread her hands along his chest, loving how he fit her so perfectly. “So you won’t let me go alone because it’ll ruin your plans?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

Rook pulled her in tight against him as he caressed her. “Because in all the years I’ve followed you, I never dared to believe this could be. I’ve gone hundreds of years without finding someone like you and I know I will never find another. I won’t let you go. I can’t. I’m not whole without you any longer.”

Cate smiled, the sensation going all the way to her toes. “I know just how you feel.”

Acknowledgements

Thanks to my editor Heather Howland, for her diligent effort, and love of the O’Connell sisters and their unconventional heroes. Holly Root, agent of fabulousness, for sharing a vision with me and getting me there. To my critique partner Cherry Adair for always having a witty remark and a keen eye for detail. To my tea friends, Karla, Jenny, Dornia, Diana, Kendra, and Rachel—thanks, girls, for keeping me smiling and sane. And of course to Jerry, for keeping me writing.

About the Author

The progeny of a slightly mad NASA scientist and a tea-drinking bibliophile who turned the family dining room into a library, Theresa Meyers learned early the value of a questioning mind, books, and a good china teapot. But it wasn’t until third grade that Theresa overcame her dyslexia and learned to read, going on to make words her life’s work. With a degree in Mass Communications, she became first a journalist, then a public relations officer in both the corporate and agency realm. She’s spent nearly a quarter of a century with the boy who took her to the Prom, drinks tea with milk and sugar, is an adamant fan of the television show Supernatural, and has an indecent love of hats. When she’s not writing, reading, sewing, canning, or running herd on the small mangerie of farm animals on her mini-farm, she’s often online at
www.twitter.com/Theresa_Meyers
or at
www.theresameyers.com
If you’re more the pen and paper type, you can always write to her at P.O. Box 25, Port Orchard, WA 98366.

THERESA MEYERS