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Authors: Ann Gimpel

BOOK: Witch's Bounty
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“Yes, especially when they augment their hearing with magic.” Jenna glanced sidelong at the other witch, clearly pleased she was gaining the upper hand, albeit slowly.

“Keep your eyes open, Roz,” Duncan said. He looked as if he was struggling to suppress a smile. “You may find an eligible bachelor or two in the group.”

“How long have you lived in your house?” Jenna asked. “It was what I tried to ask before Roz interrupted.”

“Since the fifteen hundreds. Of course I’ve had it modernized. Several times, actually.”

Fifteen hundreds!
Breath whooshed out of Colleen’s lungs. It was easy to forget just how old Duncan was. Beyond an overarching impression that he lived in a museum, she hadn’t really had time to explore any of the rambling multi-story mansion beyond his bedroom.

“So,” Jenna pressed on, “all those paintings and sculptures and knickknacks that look antique—”

“—were new when I bought them,” he finished for her.

“My home is just outside Richmond.” Tristan smiled at Jenna and took the chair next to her. “It’s not as grand as Duncan’s or Ronin’s, but we Sidhe do like our creature comforts.”

Jenna leaned into him. “I’m sure you do. Sheesh, I was comparing all this elegance to our place in Fairbanks…” She rolled her eyes and let her words trail off.

Tristan started to say something, but Duncan shushed him.

Ronin strode to the front of the room. With his iridescent robes flowing around him and shiny dark hair, he cut a fine figure. “Thank you all for coming.” His melodious voice reached every corner of the vast room. Colleen figured he’d boosted it with magic. “Special thanks to our guests.” He bowed toward the witches and changeling. Colleen inclined her head; so did Jenna and Roz, but Niall simply glowered.

Ronin cleared his throat. “We have had many productive meetings this past week.” He shot Duncan a glance, but Colleen couldn’t interpret it. “All our elders but for Lord Regis were in attendance. He was absent because his task was to bring the witches here. Let me address things one at a time. We returned sovereignty to the changelings two days ago, and have pledged our assistance until their magic is fully restored.”

“About time,” Niall muttered
sotto voce
.

“Hush,” Duncan whispered. “That’s as close to an apology as you’re likely to get.”

Ronin glanced their way, but didn’t comment. He extended his arms. “Would the witches be so kind as to step forward?”

It was more command than question. Colleen rose. So did Jenna and Roz. Together, they walked to the front of the room and stood before Ronin, waiting. Colleen considered bowing, but didn’t. She didn’t want to appear subservient in any way.

Ronin dropped his arms to his sides; his probing, blue gaze roved from one witch to the next. “We may have made an error in tasking you with the Irichna. We stand ready to resume our duties in that regard.”

Colleen exchanged glances with Roz and Jenna. She squared her shoulders and looked Ronin right in the eye. “We’ve discussed it. While we are extremely grateful for your offer, the demons are stronger than ever.”

“We are willing to share the responsibility.” Roz put her hands on her hips. She too, focused her dark gaze on the Sidhe. He stared back. Something electric passed between them. Colleen readied magic, just in case things got out of hand.

“Yes,” Jenna cut in. “Share it, not give it up entirely.”

Ronin’s mouth softened from its customary stern line, which might mean the Sidhe leader was pleased. Perhaps this was the outcome he’d hoped for. “I believe we can accommodate your request. We will need a bit of your blood, however.”

“Not a problem. Looks to me like we have a deal.” Colleen extended a hand. After a long moment, Ronin clasped it and shook. Roz and Jenna held their hands out as well. Ronin clung to Roz’s a shade too long, or maybe she clung to his. Colleen suppressed a knowing grin. She’d known Roz too long not to recognize when the other witch was trolling for a date.

A collective sigh surged through the room.

Roz ran her fingers across Ronin’s palm before releasing him, and quirked an inquisitive brow. “Will every Sidhe in here be able to fight demons?”

Ronin shook his head. “No. It never worked that way before. We have, or we used to have,” he corrected himself, “a warrior class. They will be the ones who volunteer to resorb the genetic code.”

Colleen picked up the direction of Roz’s thoughts. “I’m assuming there are more Sidhe than those in this room.”

“Yes. Perhaps triple this number,” Ronin concurred.

“If half of you took back the genetics to fight demons,” Colleen said, “we’d have them on the run in no time, plus Duncan uncovered a source of magic that allowed him to send them packing, and he hasn’t had any genetic alterations at all.”

Gasps escalated into a sibilant rustling that became nearly deafening. “Duncan.” Ronin’s voice was sharp, rising above the din. “Come up here.”

Colleen walked back to where Duncan sat and crooked a finger. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to blow your cover,” she said.

“You’re in for it now, old chap.” Tristan clapped Duncan’s shoulder.

He got to his feet and joined Colleen. “Should have told you to keep quiet,” he whispered.

“I have very good ears.” Ronin’s voice carried across the room.

Colleen bit back laughter. Duncan made a grab for her hand, but she trotted ahead of him. Together, they walked briskly to where Ronin stood. The crowd quieted. Duncan turned so he faced everyone. “It’s quite simple, really. I tapped into the ancient power source that we normally eschew because it’s so hard to control. You know, the one they teach us about when we’re young, and then tell us never to use.”

“And?” Ronin’s eyes blazed with something wild, and barely constrained.

Duncan shrugged. “The power is there. Just like it’s always been. It’s hideous to manage, but it does seem to force demons back to their borderworlds. If you believe the dark fae, it extinguishes the Irichna, but I’m not so sure about that.” He grinned. “I’m still here to tell about it, so it doesn’t kill us.”

“The Unseelie?” Ronin laid a hand on Duncan’s arm. The wild look in his eyes shone hotly. “I have a feeling you haven’t told us quite everything.”

“You’d be correct,” Duncan said, “but when would I have had a chance?”

“You haven’t, but you’ll make time to tell me everything.” Ronin’s voice rang with command. Colleen got a glimpse of just how powerful he was. She took a deep breath. Getting to know the Sidhe would be an adventure in and of itself.

“My lord.” Duncan inclined his head. “I’m sure we’ll work something out.”

“Ronin can wait. Teach us how to access that power,” someone cried. “It’s been so long since I learned about it, I’ve forgotten.”

“Yes. Immediately,” another Sidhe demanded.

“I’ll do what I can,” Duncan said. “Colleen and I are due back in Seattle on December twenty-first for our wedding.”

Sidhe surged to their feet and rushed forward. Questions bounced about the room. Had he told Oberon? Titania? Did they give their blessings?

“I asked you not to do that?” Colleen spoke low into his ear.

“And I said I wouldn’t until the meeting was over.” He drew her against him. “It’s looking pretty much over to me. People want to congratulate us. I say we let them.”

“I thought you said they’d shun you because of Titania, that she’d excommunicate you or something.”

He smiled, appearing so happy and relieved, it touched her heart. “Looks as if I was wrong about part of it. Titania may try to bar me from Sidhe society, but it appears my kinfolk will ignore her.”

“So.” Ronin held his ground against the Sidhe forming a tight circle around them. “I’ll forgive you for the short notice, if you invite us to your nuptials.”

“Of course—” Duncan began.

“We need to at least ask Naomi,” Colleen interrupted, concerned about taking advantage of the Witches’ Northwest Coven’s hospitality. She scanned the group. “There must be around eighty of you here. If the other two-thirds of you came too, that would be over two hundred extra people. It’s not the sort of thing you can just spring on someone without lots of notice.”

“Tell her we’ll cater your wedding.” Ronin waved an airy hand. “Besides, I need time with Duncan. If I have to chase him across the Atlantic to get it, I’ll do so.” He eyed the witches. “Besides, it’s high time our races got to know one another better.”

“Is that so?” Roz’s old sarcastic tone was back in spades. “If you really mean that, there are Covens right here in the U.K. where you could begin.”

 

 

 

Epilogue

Colleen lolled on a plush sofa in one the many downstairs rooms in Duncan’s house. She sipped from a snifter of Armagnac and sighed heavily. “I can hardly believe we’re alone for a few hours.”

Duncan settled next to her and swirled the liquor in his own snifter. The amber liquid gave off a heady fragrance. “Well, we are. Bubba, er Niall, is with a group of Scottish changelings, probably getting shit-faced. Jenna went shopping, and,” he rolled his eyes, “unbelievable as it may seem, we left Roz at Ronin’s chatting with a group of Sidhe council members.”

“Why is that unbelievable?”

“I told you the Sidhe are unbearably insular, plus Ronin has ignored the human race since the fourteen hundreds.”

“What happened then?”

“A mortal woman died delivering his child. The babe died too. He always blamed himself for falling in love outside our ranks.”

“That’s horrible. No wonder he comes off as a pompous prig. It’s a defense mechanism to keep people away. I almost feel sorry for him.”

“Don’t. He’s had more than his share of women since then. He just never let himself get attached again.” Duncan sipped his brandy. “He may be arrogant, and a bit of a pain in the ass, but he’s been a good leader, all in all.”

Colleen leaned against him. “Probably no one else wanted the job. I’m beginning to see where immortality’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” She wriggled, trying to loosen stiff muscles. “All I have to say is he’d better not patronize the witches in Seattle, or he’ll have to answer to me.”

Duncan laughed, the sound deep and rich. When he could talk again, he said, “It would be amusing to see the two of you square off against one another, but I have a feeling it won’t come to that.”

“No fair. You’ve been peeking inside my mind.” He adopted an innocent look, all wide eyes. She elbowed him and said, “On a more serious note, we have until what? Day after tomorrow, and then we have to leave?”

“Something like that. Did you phone Naomi?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’d she say?”

“After she got over not being able to talk at all, she said she was sure they’d figure something out. I guess they’ve had as many as five hundred people there before for ceremonies.”

Concern flitted across his perfect features. “Did you tell her the Sidhe will take care of all the food?”

“I did. I think she was more shocked that the Sidhe wanted to visit her Coven than anything else. You haven’t exactly been the most approachable group.”

He nodded his understanding. “No, we haven’t.” Duncan set his snifter down, and took hers, setting it on the coffee table alongside his. He opened his arms. “Rather than rehashing history, I’d like to make better use of this little sliver of private time that fell into our laps.”

She winked. “Just what did you have in mind…my lord?”

“I can come up with a French maid’s outfit if you’re going to talk like that?”

“Really? Who was the last one to wear it?”

In one lightning fast move, he scooped her into his arms and closed his mouth over hers. He licked the seam between her lips, probing for entrance, and she opened her mouth to him. He tasted wonderful, sweet like the brandy and fresh like wheat fields she remembered from her childhood in eastern Washington. The more they made love, and they’d even managed to squeeze into the tiny jetliner bathroom by using magic to make the flight attendant look the other way, the faster she responded to his advances. Her nipples pebbled and her crotch flooded with heat. She pushed her hands under his shirt, frantic for the feel of his skin. Fingertips connecting, she reeled from the larger-than-life reality of him: hot, silky, electric, and all hers. Her breathing quickened; her throat clotted with desire.

He broke their kiss and licked his way down her neck. Where he touched her, she felt supercharged, alive. No matter how much he caressed her, she always wanted more. She arched against him, moaning low in the back of her throat.

“I love it when you make that sound,” he said, hands tightening on her back. “You sound like a lioness purring.”

He rucked her shirt out of the way and reached behind her to unhook her bra. She moved it above her breasts and he settled in to suckle her. He was so skilled, licking, sucking, biting, nibbling, she sometimes came without any additional stimulation. From the hot tightness between her legs, this was looking like one of those times. She writhed and rubbed her thighs together. Anticipation of sensation added spice to her peaks when they cascaded through her body, leaving her breathless and satiated.

She repositioned herself so she could cradle his cock in her hands. The heat of him through his pants seared her. She wanted to take him into her mouth and do some serious licking and sucking of her own. She’d just begun to unfasten his trousers when something in the air shifted and changed.

Her eyes snapped wide open. “What was that?”

He lifted his mouth from her breasts. “What was what, darling?”

“You’re as lost in rut as I am. I felt…something just a few seconds ago.” She straightened and pulled her top down, scanning the room for clues.

“You’re being silly—” he began, and then broke off. “Damn it!” He drew away from her, rearranged his cock, and zipped his pants back up.

“Who’s here? Or who will be?” She reached behind herself to hook her bra.

“Titania,” he said through gritted teeth and shook his head. “I’d meant to track her down, but what with all the Sidhe clamoring to know about that power source I tapped into, and Ronin wanting a full report on the dark fae, I ran out of time.”

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