him away with her hand.
Obviously knowing the affect he had on her, Eron quirked a smile, but distanced himself. “The dark-haired one,” he said. “The flame-thrower wasn’t in the village. I searched for her myself.”
No doubt.
Not that it would have done Riona any good if he had found her. “At this point, I would settle for the one. Why did you not bring her to me?”
“I could have, yes. But then we would be finished here. I’m not ready to be finished.”
Her gaze drifted up and down his body. It was as Riona thought. Torture excited Eron. His thickening shaft proved that. How unfortunate that his erection had absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do with his thoughts. There went her plan for punishment. He’d only get off on the beating. Riona took a step toward Eron. He held his ground. “What do you value?” she asked, placing both hands on his chest.
Eyes flickering, he said, “Nothing.”
Riona pushed ever so slightly and sent Eron flying twenty feet through the air. His back slammed into a tree. The trunk splintered as if it had been struck by lightning. Eron managed to land on his feet, though he appeared dazed.
“Wrong answer.”
Chapter Twelve
The temporary camp Calliope had guided them to proved to be nothing more than a tree-filled plane measuring about a half-acre and flanked by sloping green hills on all four sides. They wouldn’t be able to stay here long before being detected, especially if the nights grew too cold and they had to build fires. Yet, Krystoff could see why she’d chosen the spot. Her signature magick shimmered in the air and whistled through the trees. Twinkling motes sprang from the earth every time she took a step. This lush piece of land had chosen its caretaker, and that was Calliope. Whether she knew it or not, Calliope was now the proprietor of her very own enchanted forest.
Krystoff stood away from the group, watching as she covered her mother with the blue blanket he’d provided. Calliope carefully tucked it against Ambra’s body, enclosing her in a warm cocoon of cashmere and cotton. Krystoff had conjured so many blue blankets since last night, the camp looked like a reflection of the clear sky. Blue had become his favorite color the moment he’d locked eyes with Calliope. One day, he’d build a home and paint every room the exact shade of her irises. Assuming he could ever stay in one place long enough to put down roots.
Ambra Brennan sat with her back against a large tree, staring at something, or
someone
, no one else could see. Her red hair had been braided and tied back with a white ribbon, the frayed ends dancing in the wind like a pair of white flags signaling defeat. This witch was more than a little haunted, but Krystoff noticed the unparalleled knowledge swimming in the depths of her striking green eyes. If she could ever get past the demon that had forced her to retreat, he had no doubt she’d be a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps even strong enough to sit on the witches’ council he’d heard about, possibly in the head chair.
Seeing how Calliope dealt with her mother gave him a better understanding of just how she used her soothing gift. A soft touch that never wavered, a gentle voice that never faltered, a smooth transfer of healing energy that while faint, never waned — all evident in her constant, almost imperceptible movements.
After caring for Ambra, Calliope moved on to the next witch and started the process over again. Shed tears were swept away by tender fingers and reassuring hugs. Now that the witches were outside the boundaries of their village, their magick had returned, but most were too weak to summon it, and instead relied on Calliope and a handful of others to tend to their needs. He had no idea how Calliope had managed to stay on her feet as long as she had. She’d been at it all night. When would she get her turn to grieve?
Krystoff pulled his hands out of his trouser pockets and shoved up the
Obviously knowing the affect he had on her, Eron quirked a smile, but distanced himself. “The dark-haired one,” he said. “The flame-thrower wasn’t in the village. I searched for her myself.”
No doubt.
Not that it would have done Riona any good if he had found her. “At this point, I would settle for the one. Why did you not bring her to me?”
“I could have, yes. But then we would be finished here. I’m not ready to be finished.”
Her gaze drifted up and down his body. It was as Riona thought. Torture excited Eron. His thickening shaft proved that. How unfortunate that his erection had absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do with his thoughts. There went her plan for punishment. He’d only get off on the beating. Riona took a step toward Eron. He held his ground. “What do you value?” she asked, placing both hands on his chest.
Eyes flickering, he said, “Nothing.”
Riona pushed ever so slightly and sent Eron flying twenty feet through the air. His back slammed into a tree. The trunk splintered as if it had been struck by lightning. Eron managed to land on his feet, though he appeared dazed.
“Wrong answer.”
Chapter Twelve
The temporary camp Calliope had guided them to proved to be nothing more than a tree-filled plane measuring about a half-acre and flanked by sloping green hills on all four sides. They wouldn’t be able to stay here long before being detected, especially if the nights grew too cold and they had to build fires. Yet, Krystoff could see why she’d chosen the spot. Her signature magick shimmered in the air and whistled through the trees. Twinkling motes sprang from the earth every time she took a step. This lush piece of land had chosen its caretaker, and that was Calliope. Whether she knew it or not, Calliope was now the proprietor of her very own enchanted forest.
Krystoff stood away from the group, watching as she covered her mother with the blue blanket he’d provided. Calliope carefully tucked it against Ambra’s body, enclosing her in a warm cocoon of cashmere and cotton. Krystoff had conjured so many blue blankets since last night, the camp looked like a reflection of the clear sky. Blue had become his favorite color the moment he’d locked eyes with Calliope. One day, he’d build a home and paint every room the exact shade of her irises. Assuming he could ever stay in one place long enough to put down roots.
Ambra Brennan sat with her back against a large tree, staring at something, or
someone
, no one else could see. Her red hair had been braided and tied back with a white ribbon, the frayed ends dancing in the wind like a pair of white flags signaling defeat. This witch was more than a little haunted, but Krystoff noticed the unparalleled knowledge swimming in the depths of her striking green eyes. If she could ever get past the demon that had forced her to retreat, he had no doubt she’d be a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps even strong enough to sit on the witches’ council he’d heard about, possibly in the head chair.
Seeing how Calliope dealt with her mother gave him a better understanding of just how she used her soothing gift. A soft touch that never wavered, a gentle voice that never faltered, a smooth transfer of healing energy that while faint, never waned — all evident in her constant, almost imperceptible movements.
After caring for Ambra, Calliope moved on to the next witch and started the process over again. Shed tears were swept away by tender fingers and reassuring hugs. Now that the witches were outside the boundaries of their village, their magick had returned, but most were too weak to summon it, and instead relied on Calliope and a handful of others to tend to their needs. He had no idea how Calliope had managed to stay on her feet as long as she had. She’d been at it all night. When would she get her turn to grieve?
Krystoff pulled his hands out of his trouser pockets and shoved up the
Similar Books
