Primal Pleasure: Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 3 Page 16

  “We already did that.”

  “We did, didn’t we?” He lifted her hand to his face, indulging in the warmth of her palm on his skin. “Then you might as well give up trying to get rid of me.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  Hearing the pain in her voice, he frowned. “What?”

  “Don’t make me fall even harder for you.”

  “Even if I vow to catch you?”

  She shook her head, but before she could voice another objection, he touched his forehead to hers. He didn’t take it any further than that at first, marveling over her quick intake of breath and the way her fingers trembled.

  “Cian,” she whispered, and her voice caught him hard in the chest.

  Opening his mouth over hers, his plans to distract her were lost the second she boldly stroked her tongue across his. Between one breath and the next, he couldn’t remember what he’d even wanted to distract her from in the first place. He knew only Emma’s addictive taste, the feel of her lips and the certainty that enchantment or not, she had him completely under her spell.

  Elena cleared her throat. “As much as I hate to break up your fun, our favorite Fae is coming down the hall, and he’s not alone.”

  A moment later Urien opened the cell door, and Cian got his first look at the sorcerer who coveted his mate. Gareth was a couple inches shorter than him, his hair dark and long, his expression calculating as he dismissed Elena by turning his back on her.

  The sorcerer’s hard green gaze bypassed Emma altogether, landing on the grip Cian had on her. There was only a whisper of warning before an invisible hand closed around his throat and pinned him against the wall.

  “Stop!”

  Cian reached out to prevent his mate from moving toward Gareth, but the grip around his throat tightened.

  “You got what you wanted. I’m here. You have no need for them.” If the scent of her fear didn’t overwhelm him, he might have believed she was as calm as she appeared.

  As if he’d grown bored already, Gareth released him, his attention focused on Emma. “Oh?”

  “And my father won’t tolerate you holding Elena prisoner.”

  “Permanently, no. But he knows she is my guest until the ceremony is complete.”

  “Lying son of a bitch,” Elena snarled.

  Gareth cocked his head, moved closer to Emma. “That’s a very interesting tracing.” Catching Cian’s eye, the sorcerer drew his finger across her throat.

  Cian betrayed no response—though he sure as hell wanted to—knowing it was exactly what Gareth wanted.

  Sighing, the sorcerer let his arm drop back to his side. “I look forward to discovering what other surprises you have in store for me, Emma. As soon as you’ve scrubbed every trace of the cat off you.”

  “Let them go and I swear you’ll have my full cooperation.”

  Gareth laughed, the sound making Cian ache to bury his fist in his face. “I’m afraid I need more time to find the best way to utilize the gargoyle’s exposure to the dagger’s magic, and when I do, I’ll want him on hand.”

  “If you have him, you don’t need Emma,” Elena pointed out.

  “My family is expecting an alliance between our houses today.” He tipped his head toward Cian. “He’s no more than an early wedding present which I’m very grateful to Emma for.”

  “Screw you.”

  “Oh, I intend to.”

  Snarling, Cian lunged for the bastard.

  “Don’t.” Emma planted herself in front of him.

  Gareth smirked. “Already she protects me, gargoyle.”

  Elena snorted. “Get over yourself. It’s him she’s protecting. He’d slash your throat out in a blink, but by then Urien would be on him.”

  Not appearing to like hearing that, he motioned to Urien. “Take her to my rooms to prepare for the ceremony.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Emma insisted when Cian refused to let her go. “You know I’ll be okay.”

  Did he? The only thing he was dead certain of was how much he wanted to sink his claws into Gareth.

  Elena stepped up next to him. “She can handle herself.” Admiration laced her words. “She’s gotten me out of worse situations than this.” She caught Emma’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

  Urien laughed. “That would be something to see.”

  Looking as confident as an oracle, Elena smiled. “Pull up a chair.”

  “Enough.” Gareth headed for the door. “Come along, Emma.”

  The moment Urien closed the door to Gareth’s room, Emma dug Amelina’s charm out of her pocket.

  “Amelina of the Fae, I wish to make a bargain.”

  “A bargain? I remember telling you to use the charm in case of emergency.”

  Emma whipped around, quickly matching the Fae’s militant stance. “I see your leg has healed nicely.”

  She didn’t appear surprised Emma had remembered her from the casino.

  “Why were you there?”

  “You didn’t summon me just to ask that.”

  “That’s not the only reason, no. Gareth, the sorcerer who’s been after me, plans to kill Cian, the gargoyle I was with in the catacombs.” There wasn’t a doubt in Emma’s mind Gareth would dispose of him the moment he stopped being useful, and she had no intention of letting that happen.

  “And that’s where the bargain comes in?”

  Emma nodded. “There was a dagger in the catacombs.”

  The Fae sighed, sliding into a chair in front of the sprawling stone fireplace. The gesture instantly reminded her of Elena when she settled in to listen to Emma be reasonable. “And I suppose you want my help retrieving Constantine’s dagger?”

  Emma froze. “You already took it, didn’t you? Is that why you were in the casino? You suspected Cian could somehow lead you to one?”

  “My reasons for being in the casino had nothing to do with the gargoyle, until I saw the way he was looking at you.”

  Emma shook her head, unable to make sense of what Amelina was saying. “Why would you care how he was looking at me?”

  The Fae gave her a sad smile. “Mine have always been one of the few glamours you could never see through, you know.”

  “Glamour?”

  Before her eyes, the Fae’s appearance morphed, aging her.

  Holy Shit. “Leah? But you’re…human,” she settled on for lack of a better word. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Tell them, show them, draw them a picture. Something.

  The glamour faded once more. “It’s complicated. I wanted to tell both you and Elena, but I’m not supposed to have contact with either of you for another century.” Her voice was close, but a little higher than what Emma was used to.

  “I don’t understand.” Not even a little bit. “You’re Fae?” Maybe if she said it aloud a few times, her brain would process it.

  “I am.”

  Behind them the door opened, and her father stepped inside. Even though Gareth had mentioned him, she had no idea he was here. Roan was nearly six hundred years old but still looked to be in his late twenties, his hair so much lighter than hers and Elena’s, but he had the same gray eyes.

  “I know you’re mad at me,” he began, then stopped when he saw she wasn’t alone. His expression paled before his eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “You two know each other?” Her father’s appearance was surprising all on its own and now this…

  Her father stepped up beside her, glaring at Leah. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “And you’re not supposed to be marrying her off to Gareth or anyone else for the sake of an alliance, but that’s not stopping you.”

  “You lost the right to have a say when you left us.”

  Emma held up a hand. “What did you say?”

  Her father frowned at her.

  “She doesn’t know,” Leah said quietly. “Or she didn’t until you opened your big mouth.”

  Dropping into the chair Leah had vacated, she glanced back and forth between
them…between her parents?

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Not a word. Not even a syllable. The ache in her chest that she’d been doing her best to ignore since Urien had learned of Cian’s tie to the dagger, clamped down like a vise.

  “Is she going to faint?”

  “Of course not,” Leah answered, then crouched next to her.

  “Don’t pretend you know anything about her,” her father snapped.

  “I know a hell of a lot more than you do.” She searched Emma’s eyes, lowering her voice. “Do you need a paper bag?”

  She shook her head, digging her hands into her palms in an effort to hold off the emotional upheaval of the last couple days. The last few minutes guaranteed it would be a losing battle.

  Leah was her mother. Leah, who was her best friend next to Elena, someone she got drunk with, laughed with, grew annoyed with, and all this time…

  “This wasn’t how I pictured you finding out.”

  “You shouldn’t have come back.” Her father glanced at Emma, and for the first time in decades, she saw genuine concern in his eyes.

  Leah stood and whirled. “And you should have stopped Gareth from hunting our daughters like animals.”

  “Now they’re our daughters? How convenient.”

  “You were the one who refused to let me see them.”

  Out of nowhere a memory slammed into Emma’s mind. She’d woken up in her bed, a scream caught in her throat. Another nightmare, like the ones she’d been having for months after being lost in the catacombs.

  Spotting the candle her father made sure never went out during the night, she realized she was safe in her bed, and had lain back, closing her eyes. She’d barely drifted off again when she heard voices outside her room. She’d slipped from her bed and crept into the hall to hear her father arguing with someone.

  “Don’t do this, Roan, I need to see them.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t—”

  “You made your choice.” Her father had turned then, spotting Emma. “Leave now,” he’d said over his shoulder, then strode toward his daughter, his big body preventing her from seeing who he had been talking to.

  “Let’s get you tucked back in bed, angel.” He kissed her forehead, and she peeked over his shoulder, but the room behind him was empty.

  Shaken by the memory, she glanced at Leah. “You came to see us.”

  “A handful of times,” her father said, a whisper of disappointment beneath the anger.

  “Only to be refused every single time.”

  Her father scoffed. “We both know you had the means to succeed if you really wanted to be there.”

  “I was trying not to hurt you any more than I had to. You know I had no choice, and you refused to come with me.”

  “A sorcerer in the Fae court?”

  Fae court? Emma took a longer look at Leah. Only Fae royalty was part of the court.

  “And it was no place for halfling daughters,” he continued. “Even your mother realized that. It was only a matter of time before someone tried to use them as pawns against Titania.”

  Titania? Queen Titania?

  “And how long was I gone before you made arrangements with Gareth’s family for an alliance? A week? A month? Two? Power has always been all that mattered to you.”

  “After you walked away, it was all I had left.”

  “No.” Emma stood. “You had me and Elena.”

  Surprise registered on his face, then his shoulders slipped a little. “I…” He shook his head, and Emma felt like she was seeing her father as more than just cold and proud. She remembered blaming him when their mother left, accusing him of sending her away.

  Now each time he glanced covertly at Leah, she could see he’d been just as devastated as she and Elena.

  “You need to fix this,” Leah told him.

  His expression darkened. “Don’t tell me what to do, Lee.”

  “Well someone needs to. Emma can’t marry Gareth.”

  “He’s still young and overzealous, but he’s powerful, well connected. He can protect her. She might even come to care for him.”

  Leah took a step toward him, reaching a hand out to touch him. Her father eased back, a glimmer of something—fear?—in his eyes.

  Her chin dropped. “Is that really what you want for her?”

  “Following her heart isn’t any more of a guarantee that she’ll be happy.” Old pain echoed in his voice.

  “Tell that to the gargoyle she loves, the one who marked her.” Leah pulled Emma’s hair back, exposing the faint scar.

  “What?”

  If her father could have a heart attack, Emma was pretty sure she was seconds away from having to perform CPR.

  “When the hell did that happen?”

  The stern look on his face instantly transported Emma back to her childhood. “Yesterday.”

  “And the gargoyle still lives?” His gaze snapped to Leah’s.

  Emma rolled her eyes. The gods save her from men who chose the wrong moment to get overprotective. “Gareth has him locked up with Elena at the moment.”

  “If the gargoyle did that without your consent…” her father began.

  “The way you made arrangements to marry me off without care for what I wanted?”

  Her father paled. “I was…” He cleared his throat, tried again.

  “I believe the word you’re looking for is wrong.”

  He scowled at Leah, who shrugged in the same casual way Elena did. Holy crap, Elena was going to freak when she found out about Leah. About their mom.

  “Gareth plans to use Cian, or the dagger magic that infused him somehow, and when he’s done with him…” Emma swallowed, more resolved than ever to prevent him from hurting Cian.

  “You do love him,” Leah said softly.

  Emma nodded. “He’s insanely possessive and arrogant and stubborn. And I’m still crazy about him, even though I know when Elena breaks her enchantment spell, his feelings for me will fade.”

  Leah’s brows crashed together. “Elena didn’t do an enchantment spell.”

  “How do you know?”

  “When your daughter uses one of Constantine’s daggers to curse a gargoyle, you hear about that kind of thing.”

  Her father gave them both a blank look.

  “Some people hear about those things,” Leah corrected.

  “She tried a counter spell, but it didn’t work.”

  Leah smiled. “Not until you came along?”

  “Right.”

  “Because she’s his mate.” Her father looked pleased that he’d put it together without anyone having to explain anything.

  Feeling the need to sit before she did faint, Emma dropped back into the chair. She really was Cian’s mate?

  “Emma—”

  She held her hand up at her father, needing another minute to let it sink in, and also because she was a smidge annoyed that her father, who’d been in the dark about almost everything until a few minutes ago, had figured it out before her. Figured it out—

  “He knows.” She pushed to her feet. “Cian cut Elena off in the cell when I was asking her about it. The sneaky feline knows.”

  Her father looked grim. “Emma, Gareth will be here any moment. He said he would be right along when I passed him on my way to see you.”

  “He won’t willingly release Cian.”

  “So we’ll make him.” Leah held something out to her. The dagger.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Her father bumped into her getting a closer look.

  “Try not to drool, Roan. Here.” Leah pushed it into Emma’s hand.

  Like the last time in the tunnel, she didn’t feel a damn thing. “I don’t have the power to use it.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I tried in the tunnel. The first time was just a fluke.”

  Leah shook her head. “You just have to believe in yourself, baby.”

  She made it sound so easy, and it probably would be for her. “My mag
ic is too unpredictable, when it works at all.”

  Leah scanned the room, leaving her side just long enough to grab a handheld mirror. “You see that?” She held the mirror up so Emma could see her new tracing. “The Fae glyphs are there because you’ve begun to tap into your Fae magic. It’s still new and unfamiliar, like when you were a child, but it’s there.”

  She shook her head and tried giving the dagger back to Leah.

  Her father stiffened next to her. “Maybe you shouldn’t have such high expectations of her, Lee.”

  “And maybe yours aren’t high enough,” Leah challenged. She dismissed him with a scowl. “You know how Elena jokes that you used to be the wild one? That’s because it’s true. You were fearless with magic, but yours was always different, your strengths laid in your Fae heritage and when you tried crossing the veil and ended up in the catacombs, you began to fear it.”

  Emma glanced down at her palm. “Why now? Why am I able to tap into it after all this time?”

  Leah simply stared at her, waiting.

  “Cian,” she whispered to herself a moment later.

  “Being in love can be incredibly powerful, can make us feel invincible.”

  “She’s right.”

  Leah glanced up at him, grateful that her parents weren’t glowering at each other at the moment. Progress.

  Her father cleared his voice, glanced at Leah. “You should go before Gareth arrives.”

  “If you’re suggesting I can’t handle myself—”

  So much for a truce. “I’m sure you two have things you need to say to each other, but it needs to wait.” Emma turned toward Leah—her mother. Thinking of her that way felt unfamiliar, but comforting.

  “Elena needs you. The cuffs she’s wearing null her magic. And she’s more capable of wielding the dagger.”

  “I’ll bet your gargoyle would disagree with that.” Leah closed Emma’s fingers tighter around the weapon. “This dagger has been used in the catacombs where Fae magic is its most pure. You have the advantage over Elena this time.” With that Leah vanished, making arguing with her a waste of breath.

  Alone she glanced at her father, who stared at the spot where Leah had stood. “Is your head spinning as fast as mine?”

  He grinned, and memories of seeing him smile when she and Elena were younger squeezed her heart. “Faster.”