The Charmer (10 page)

His eyes glinted dangerously. Her scent was
making him feel aggressive. He needed to touch her. “I’d tell you
to stop sulking.” In a lightning fast maneuver, he snaked his hand
around her waist and pulled her roughly up to him. She pushed
against him, but was no match for his large, battle-toned body.

Giving her nowhere to run, he voiced a
suspicion that budded in his mind while watching her drink more
than was good for her. “Admit it—you’re jealous of Rihlia.”

She struggled, but he wouldn’t give an inch.
“Wiley is my friend! I’ve never been jealous of her in my life.”
She grunted, twisted, but his arm was a rigid restraint. With a
strangled shriek of rage, she aimed a bite at his shoulder, but he
seized her hair and imprisoned her head.

“Admit it!” His nostrils flared as his eyes
shot sparks at her. A hot tremor shot through him, but they both
ignored it. “You...are...
jealous
!” He’d spent another
sleepless night
alone
, thinking of her, and he was not about
to back down until they’d dealt with this. Maybe then he’d get some
peace.

Furious at her restraint and battered by
emotions she could no longer contain, she shouted back, “All right!
I’m jealous, ok? I’ve never been more jealous in my life.” At her
admission, his arm relaxed. She took every inch of distance he
offered.

As her words registered, shame filled her.
Her hands curled into fists, clutching his shirt, and her head
slowly bowed. “I love her like a sister and I’ve never wanted to
outrun her so badly in my life. God help me.” Blood pounded in her
ears, and she felt lower than low. Hah! Some friend she was.

“She needs you, you know.”

She nodded and tried to keep the moisture
burning her eyes inside. The last thing she wanted was his
pity.

Almost reluctantly, he separated their
charged bodies and led her over to the living area. He chose a
velvet armchair and sat down, tugging her down to sit in front of
him. With gentle hands he massaged her shoulders.

She sighed, an aching kind of sigh, and let
her eyelids drift shut. “Why are you being so nice?”

His voice, when it finally came, was husky,
and it sent little firecrackers off up and down her nerves. “I’m
not being nearly as nice as I’d like to be, but I’m trying to
behave.” His thumbs eased up to work the knots out of her neck.
“Fallon would think I’m a fool.”

She angled her neck to give him better
access. “What’s he got to do with it?”“He’s a determined man. Don’t
underestimate him. Just when you think you’ve driven him off, he’ll
come back and surprise you.”

She tensed, and his fingers pressed more
firmly into the bunched muscles. “I don’t know why he bothers.”

“I told you

you’re a
charmer.” He was matter-of-fact, as if the topic were as
unremarkable as the dawn rising in the eastern sky. “He couldn’t do
anything else.”

She frowned. “It doesn’t seem to be bothering
you.”

His hands tightened on her shoulders. He
turned her around until she was kneeling in front of him. Taking
her hand, he put it on his warm erection, holding it there when she
would have jerked back in surprise.

He held her gaze. “I’m a man of action, of
discipline. The Haunt follow my orders, and sometimes lives depend
on my making hard decisions and keeping a level head.” His hard
length burned into her palm. Her fingers curled around it.

“I won’t be led around by a woman, or by
anything else.” He pressed her hand more firmly to him and held her
eyes for a moment while he got bigger, and harder.

Then he stood up and walked away.

Keilor set the empty tray down on the table
while Rihlia watched him with anxious eyes. “She ate.”

Rihlia sank down in a wing chair. A new
concern filled her face and he shook his head, guessing its source.
“Give her until morning. I think you’ll find her in better spirits
and more pleased with company.”

The unhappiness didn’t leave her face as she
twisted the end of a long black lock. She touched the silver hair
ornament holding her hair up and off her face as if she wanted to
remove it and then dropped her hand. “She never drinks so much,
Keilor. Last night was hard for her.”

He tilted his head slightly. “It was hard for
you as well, but I don’t see you sulking.”

She grimaced and slouched in her chair. “I
need to, I think. I just haven’t had the chance.” She raised
troubled eyes. “I don’t remember her at all. My mother, I mean. She
looks at me with such hunger, and all I want to do is push her
away. I feel guilty, like I’m doing something wrong

what kind of person doesn’t love her mother? Then I
get angry because she makes me feel that way, and it starts all
over again.”

He nodded, just listening, and she went on.
“And then there’s Jayems.” She smiled without humor. “Do you know
he told me I was everything he ever wanted in a wife? How could he
say something like that? He hardly knows me.”

Keilor’s smile held real humor. “Love does
not take long among our kind

we know.”

She leaned back and looked at him
skeptically. “Love, Keilor? I think you’re getting it confused
with—no, don’t shake your head. You know I’m right.”

He sat down on the couch so she wouldn’t have
to look up at him. “Cousin, I’ve known Jayems all his life and seen
him with more than his share of women.” She scowled at him, but he
went on, “Never once have I seen in his eyes what they hold for
you.”

She clasped her hands over her stomach and
stared at her knees. “I don’t know what I feel for him.” She
frowned. “I don’t want to have to feel anything at all.” There was
silence for a moment. “Speaking of feelings, what are you doing to
my friend?”

He blinked. “Nothing.”

“I know better than that.” She folded her
arms and her foot started tapping. “There’s something going on
between you two. Every time you’re in the same room the air starts
crackling.”

Best to cut this inquiry at the quick. He
threw an arm over the back of the coach and adopted a nonchalant
expression. “Your friend is a charmer, cousin. If I show sexual
interest in her, it’s no more than can be expected of any man in
the room. You’ll have noticed Fallon was no different.”

“That’s a bunch of bull!” Rihlia’s eyes shot
sparks as she sat forward, gesturing angrily. “She might be a
little shy with men, but Jasmine has always been a pretty girl. I
don’t think it’s fair of you to blame some mythical pheromone just
so you can have an excuse for being attracted to a human!”

“What I feel, what Fallon feels, what
Knightin feels,” he answered with grim conviction. “What every
unattached male above the age of puberty will feel whenever she is
near.” He leaned forward, determined to make her understand. “She
is pretty, and it doesn’t help, but it wouldn’t matter if she were
fat and bald and covered with boils, men would still want her.” She
tried to interrupt, but he cut her off ruthlessly. “Fallon likes
his women, true, but I’ve never seen him pursue one with the
tenacity he displayed last night. If she hadn’t surprised him with
that comment about tongues,“ he grimaced, “then we might have had
to leash him to keep him from following her to her room.” He paused
to give his words weight. “Do you really think her beauty alone
would bring three grown men to their knees?”

Rihlia’s lips were tight with anger. “Prove
it.”

“Very well.” He strode towards the door.
“Give me fifteen minutes to arrange an escort, and I’ll meet you in
the courtyard. We’ll take a tour of the cadet’s dinning hall.” He
slammed the door behind him, giving vent to his frustration, and
strode quickly down the hall. Jayems might have his head later, but
by fire, he’d hear no more complaints about imaginary
pheromones!

Word spread about what he was about to do,
and by the time he met Rihlia and Jasmine in the bricked courtyard
the rest of his female relations were there as well. They’d
gathered by a fountain, and the spray from the small waterfall
misted the air. It sparkled around his aunt Portae as she talked,
gesturing expansively.

Jasmine was coolly confident in the
nondescript white uniform of a servant, and even Rihlia looked
disdainful, but there was nothing chilly in the greeting Urseya
granted him.

“Keilor! This is so exciting,” she greeted
him, smiling, and put her hand on his arm. When he merely nodded an
acknowledgment her smile faded a little, and her hand fell away.
“Well.” She bounced a bit on the balls of her feet and looked over
to their family. “I must warn you, Keilor, we’ve placed wagers on
the outcome of your charmer’s unveiling.” She smiled up at him
through her long lashes. “As a vote of confidence, I’ve placed my
money on you, but I must say, I think Rihlia’s friend is cheating
dreadfully. Just look at what she’s done to her face.”

Jasmine’s face was coated in something that
made it pasty gray, and she’d greased her hair so that it hung in
limp strands on her shoulders. Dark circles dimmed her green eyes
and she smiled at him, revealing three blackened teeth. She looked
like something two days in the grave.

“It won’t matter,” he said grimly. Jasmine’s
confidence visibly wavered a bit at those words, and he felt a
sharp pang in his chest. He didn’t think she was going to enjoy
this.

He knew he wouldn’t.

Gesturing sharply to the fifteen mated Haunt
he’d brought with him, he turned and strode resolutely towards the
cadet barracks built into the curving arm of the mountain.

Jasmine told herself she had nothing to worry
about. This whole thing was foolish. Keilor had made a mistake, and
she’d prove it to the idiot. She’d show him that what he felt, what
she
felt, had nothing to do with a stupid legend and
everything to do with a man and a woman who were attracted to each
other, and had been from the first. After that…

Her mind shied away from the ‘after’. First
she had to prove her point. There was no mysterious, seductive
pheromone, and even if there ever had been, she didn’t have it.

She was butt ugly today and confident that
Wiley and the beautiful Urseya outshone her by a mile.

No one would look at her twice.

Chapter 9

No one looked anywhere else.

From the moment the double doors opened for
the noble party and her scent was carried into the hall, all eyes
were on her. They remained on her throughout the introduction that
excluded her, even though she tried to hide behind the others. The
necks of cadets at attention craned to watch her as she walked by,
in spite of sharp words from their superiors and the warning growls
of her tense guard. One dazed young man even broke rank to watch
her walk by and was forcibly escorted from the hall.

Jasmine shivered as the cold of dread seeped
into her bones. Keilor wasn’t imagining it, and it was far worse
than she could have dreamed. She edged forward and gave his uniform
a frightened tug. His he raised his arm. Instantly their tour was
over, and the Haunt guards closed ranks and got them out of there
as swiftly as protocol allowed.

“Jasmine…” Wiley’s voice was concerned,
stunned. Jasmine began to walk very fast. “Jasmine!” She began to
jog. In a moment she was running back the way she’d come, the warm,
damp sea air burning her lungs as she tried to out run this thing
she’d become.

No one stopped her.

Jasmine burst into Jayems’ room and skidded
to a stop on the polished wood. Eyes wild, she demanded, “How do I
make it stop?”

“What?” He looked up from a map he and
Knightin had been studying and frowned.

She gestured violently. “This charmer thing!”
Raising a trembling hand to her forehead and closing her eyes, she
continued, “They were all looking at me like…”

Jayems glanced at Knightin, dismissing him.
Tossing his pen aside, he leaned back in his chair and regarded
her. “Like they desired you?”

She threw her hand down, but could only hold
his eyes for a second. “It was worse than that! They—” She grabbed
the back of a chair for support, feeling like she just might fly
apart. “I want it to stop. Now.”

Knowing eyes considered her. “Is it so bad to
be desired?”

She clenched her fists and shouted at him.
“Yes!
Yes
. I don’t want men to look at me like that!” She
moaned in frustration and swept her fist through the air. “I was
afraid genetics would come back to haunt me.”

He tilted his head in inquiry, and she
swallowed hard. Addressing the carpet in front of his desk, she
said, “My mother was a stripper. She...ah, when she danced,
she...stripped.”

“Ah.” He examined his desktop as if it held
the secrets of the universe.

“In front of people. Male audiences,” she
finished bitterly.

“I see.”

“Good. Then send me back.” His face took on
that stubborn look and she didn’t wait for his denial. “Listen
here, you pig headed son of a bitch! I.…” To her horror, her throat
closed on the words, and she could only stand there in humiliation,
reduced to the helplessness of a child. A single tear tracked down
her cheek.

She bowed her head and clenched her fists.
Now was not the time to lose her composure. She might as well
concede defeat if she did.

“It won’t be forever, Jasmine.” His voice was
soothing.

She wanted to scream.

“It will stop as soon as you take a
mate.”

Bile churned in her stomach. “You think I
would…” Her world blackened on the edges. “I don’t even have a
boyfriend!”
Breathe, Jas, just breathe.

“Fallon—” He didn’t flinch when the priceless
black diamond statute of a volti splintered against the front of
his desk, nor even when the heavy crystal decanter followed. His
door crashed open, but he waved the Haunt guards back as she
insulted first his mother, his ancestry and finally himself in
graphic, lurid detail, then stormed out, rolling on her own
thunder.