Wildfire Kiss (26 page)

She was startled by the unexpectedness of it. She
was shocked by her reaction both in her body and mind. She felt the
blood race through her veins, calling all her nerve endings into
action. She felt her heart begin to purr with anticipation. She
felt a spot between her thighs tickle her with heat and an itch to
be touched …

His kiss was everything she had expected the
rakehell Hotspur’s kiss to be, and, more, it was what she wanted it
to be.

She went to war with herself and somehow found the
ability to pull away abruptly. She put up her chin. “Am I to
assume, then, we have not negotiated a truce?”

His laughter resonated on the breeze, and she found
herself smiling in spite of the frown she tried to maintain. He
said, “Must it be one or the other?”

“One or the other …” she answered firmly.

“Then I think not,” he said brightly. “War it is, my
lady, and to the victor go the spoils.”

She made a show of sighing heavily. “Well, you still
needn’t worry I shall aim my cap your way. You are not at all the
sort of man
I
am after.”

His pique set his jaw, and she had an urge to giggle
but managed to control herself.

“Oh, really? What sort of man
are you
after?”

She beamed mischievously. “What every girl wants, of
course. A knight of the Realm, a hero, a man of principles and
romance—a man who will always take her side …”

“He doesn’t exist,” retorted Tarrant harshly.

She looked at him sideways. “Then I am destined to
be a spinster.” With this, she clicked her horse and took off into
a heady canter.

He caught up to her in a moment, for she could see
his black did not mean to be left behind, and they collected their
horses and moved along head in head. They slowed as the field ebbed
and the wooded path opened before them.

Taffy brought her horse to a stop and allowed him to
graze on some nearby tall grass. “Oh, that was lovely,” she said
breathlessly. “What a fine animal you have, my lord. But never say
you ride him tamely in Hyde Park.”

“I’ve schooled Demon myself. He will go as sedately
or as wildly as I ask of him.”

Again, she saw the arrogance, the self-confidence,
the high opinion he seemed to have of himself. She bristled. “Of
course, how foolish of me to doubt you,” she said in mock
meekness.

He looked at her sharply. When he did not remark on
it, she was sure he thought she was poking fun at him.

“Tell me why it is that both your uncle, young
though he is, and your brother allow you to go off alone like
this … without even a groom in attendance?”

She took umbrage. “I suppose that is my business and
theirs.”

He laughed. “It certainly would have been theirs had
you fallen back there and been injured, fledgling.”

“Well, they are off to a cockfight, and I am quite
used to riding about unattended.”

He smiled, and there was a tease in his voice as he
admonished lightly, “In addition to the fact you could take a
tumble, riding freely as you do, it is not at all the thing for a
lady to ride astride and without the protection of at least her
groom.”

She put up her chin. “I am well enough known in our
village and surrounding area. Who would accost me?” She shrugged
this off. “And as to riding astride, I prefer it. Riding in a
lady’s saddle is not always an easy or comfortable task. Why we
should have to do so is outrageous. Taking a tumble? If I were
missing, someone would come looking …”

He raised a brow quizzically. “As to who would
accost you—any man with eyes in his head, sunbeam.”

“But any man with a brain in his head wouldn’t dare.
There are consequences they would have to incur, and I am no easy
prey.”

He inclined his head, and she could see he had
decided to change the subject. “Ah,” he said, looking into the
distance, “Grantham looks quite lovely from this hill.”

She eyed her home and smiled. “Yes, yes, it
does …”

“And with it in sight, I am afraid I must leave you,
sunbeam, as I am headed for the village.” He tipped his beaver hat.
“Perhaps I may see you in London.”

“Perhaps.” She noted black waves of hair fell across
his forehead most fetchingly. She immediately banished the notion.
He was a hell-bent rake. He was Hotspur, and she was not going to
be just another one of his conquests.

She watched as he left her and made for the village
road only a short distance off. He turned to wave at her, and she
felt a moment’s gratification, which she immediately chastised
herself for feeling. In all probability, she would not see him
again. His kiss had been a kiss goodbye, and his kiss was something
she would remember forever, for she was fairly certain she would
never receive another kiss quite like it from anyone else.

Through Time-Pursuit

Prologue

Present day

ALL AT ONCE—he was on her! The Dark Prince Pestale
had the death sword across her throat, and if her brother moved
another step toward her, it would only end in getting her
killed.

Chancemont LeBlanc stood rigid and filled with fear
for his young sibling, Lana.

And then, right before his eyes, the Dark Prince,
grinning all the while, slit young sweet Lana’s throat, and she was
forever lost to them.

Thunder rolled through his body then—rolled through
it still. His sword vibrated in his hands, feeling his need.

He wanted blood—the Dark Prince’s blood,
and he
wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything else in his
life.

Fury took over his despair and buried the pain of
grief with the hope that he would soon have the Dark Prince in his
grip and torture him before he put an end to the Dark Fae’s
miserable existence. Sorrow—deep, haunting sorrow filtered through
to his heart and blinded him with the all-consuming need to avenge
his young sister’s death. Guilt shouted out his faults and blamed
him for her death
—but guilt was a waste of time
. He replaced
that guilt with purpose and became centered in his goals.

Find Pestale, capture Pestale
, and drag him
to Dravo, where he and his father could inflict pain and punishment
on him before putting him out for the buzzards to feed upon.

Thoughts of his father off alone and mourning in
silence made him cringe. His father would never get over this loss.
He was the Milesian leader, Morgan LeBlanc, a big man that his
people on Dravo relied upon.

His da—who he could have passed as his brother, so
young was he in appearance—was lost to drink and self-inflicted
solitude. Who could blame him?

His da, who had always been a force in Chance’s
life, was broken by this final loss. And rage filled Chance as he
made his plans. Milesians were an immortal race—not born that way,
but created by the dust from the Fae World of Danu when that world
was destroyed. The dust had come through the portal that brought
the Fae to the human realm.

Now, their joint loss of Lana would hurt them
through eternity.

She was the only daughter, a reminder of the great
love his father had for Chance’s mother, lost so long ago. Sweet
Lana, his bright-eyed baby sister who had not yet reached maturity,
with her entire immortal life ahead of her—
until
Pestale
.

Revenge
? Someone once told him revenge could
be sweet. He wasn’t certain that was true, but he shouted to the
winds, “Revenge canna bring back her laughing eyes, or her dear
voice …” His own voice trailed off, because he needed revenge,
for without it—without revenge—he could not attain justice. To
Chance the two walked a straight and parallel line.

His father had stopped drinking when he realized
what Chance was going to do. He had grabbed him by his shoulders
and shook him. “Do ye think I can lose another? Doona go,
Chance …”

“Da, he must not be allowed to live.”

“Chance, me own best hope … doona
go …”

It had nearly stayed him, the distress on his
father’s face, but the need to avenge his sister’s murder was
greater. “I must, Da, ye know that.”

His father had sighed with acceptance and had talked
to him for hours. He told him to be cool-headed in his pursuit. He
said with tears in his eyes that revenge and justice were two
different things.

Are they?
Chance asked the sky, “Are they
different? I doona have the answer to that, but I do have my
immortal skills, m’magic, and my death sword. It will take all
those things to find the devil, and to lay hands on him. He is a
Dark Fae Prince, the eldest of his brothers—the most cunning of
them all,
and I will have his blood
,” he vowed to the
heavens and himself.

Two days had passed since they had lost Lana to
Pestale’s death weapon. Two days since they fought beside the
Seelie Fae to bring down Gaiscioch and the Dark monsters. Two days,
and Pestale remained alive.

Chance’s thoughts were violent as he spoke to
Pestale as though he were there. “
There is nowhere ye can outrun
me
. I will track ye to the ends of the earth, and beyond if
necessary. I have shouted it to the heavens
, I am Chancemont
LeBlanc,
and I shall have yer filthy Dark Fae
blood!”

Young Seelie Prince Trevor had joined him in this
mission, and they would soon make tracks. He couldn’t deny the
Seelie Fae his place with him, because of Lana’s memory. How he had
objected to her little romance with the Fae prince, in no small
part because Trevor was the younger brother of Prince Dante. Chance
and Dante had fought on opposite sides of the war thousands of
years ago, and though Fae and Milesians were no longer enemies and
had in fact joined forces recently against the Dark Fae, Chance
held no love for his former foe and no wish to see his sister
falling for a member of the Royal House of Lugh, Dante’s brother no
less! Now he wished she were with him … flirting up the lad
once again.
Och,
but he could hear her laugh …

He berated himself. If only he had kept Lana on
Dravo … in chains—it would have taken chains to keep her from
the fight, for she had been too headstrong to listen. He should
have foreseen this; he should have spelled her home.

The war with Gaiscioch was over. The Human Realm was
safe for the time being. The two remaining Dark Princes had been
returned to the Dark Realm, where they would forever remain
imprisoned with Queen Morrigu.

Gaiscioch was dead—his evil but a recent memory—but
Pestale had escaped and was somewhere in the human realm.

It rode him hard and drew blood that Pestale was
free! Chancemont’s determination went beyond purpose, beyond
thought, and took him to a place where all he knew was his need for
justice.

So then, Chance had become a hunter.

He would capture the evil prince, and he would make
his demands before he put him out of his misery—for he would keep
him there, begging for death until he said Lana’s name.

And so it began.

One

“ROYCE!”

“Trevor!” She turned and tried smiling in spite of
what she knew she was about to face on the other side of the door
she had her hand raised to. Trevor was one of her closest friends.
“What are you doing?”

“Long story—but I guess you know about … about
Lana,” he said grimly.

“My brother told me, and I am so sorry …” She
watched as his jaw stiffened and his face suddenly looked older. He
must have fallen hard for Lana LeBlanc.

She reached out and petted his arm but said no more.
She didn’t think he needed words. He gave her a crooked smile and
sighed heavily. “I am off to meet with Chance, and then we will
find the devil …”

“Yes, Trev, but I heard that he is the oldest of the
Dark Princes and very cunning—
you watch your back
,” she
cautioned, recalling an incident where he had been braver than he
had been wise. She touched his face. “Trev … he can move in
and kill you with the same sword he used on …” She didn’t want
to say the name and see the pain in his eyes and quickly changed
her warning. “He is ruthless, and you are not.”

“He may be cunning and ruthless, but I am a Seelie
Prince of the House of Lugh. Danté taught me everything I need to
know, and what he didn’t teach me, Breslyn did. You can rest
assured that I am totally equipped as a Tracker and a warrior,” he
said with a superior tone.

This pronouncement made Princess Royce laugh. “You
are pretty darn proud of yourself,” she said affectionately and was
pleased to see him crack a genuine smile.

“Sounded pompous, huh?”

She made a show with her thumb and forefinger. “Just
a little … but I know, if anyone can do it, Trev, you
can.”

He patted her on the shoulder. “Thanks and good
luck, yourself.” He indicated Queen Aaibhe’s chamber with his chin.
“I heard you’ve been called on the carpet again, for your
wayward ways
.” he smiled and shook his head. “You know, she
once sent Breslyn into the middle of the ocean floor and took away
all his powers …” His eyes teased, and he flicked a long tress
of bright red hair before her eyes.

She pushed her hair out of her face and touched him,
for she was genuinely worried this time. She knew he would not
totally understand; Trevor did not care for humans. However, he
would sympathize with her all the same. Instead, he released a bark
of laughter.

“Don’t worry … she probably goes easier on her
princesses.”

“Not this time …” Royce sighed. “I didn’t just
bend the rules, Trev—I exploded them.”

“I heard,” he said softly and then added as he
twirled another strand of her long hair and flung it across her
nose, “It’s okay, Red—you couldn’t help it. Don’t know why these
humans draw you in so completely, but she knows your state of mind
is compassionate, and as wild as your fiery disposition, so don’t
worry, she won’t banish you.”