him inside, accepting him and their mating and all that it entailed. But first…
Reaching to the sheath at his side, he pulled out a knife with a wicked silver blade. One edge was razor sharp, the other jagged with silver teeth designed to rip and tear.
“Holy crap,” she murmured and backed away a step.
“Be still. This must come out or our enemies will be able to track us.”
“Right. Enemies. Track.” Her gaze was locked on the knife blade. Her eyes looked enormous and glittered with the shifting shadows of the fire.
“Trust me, Shea,” he said, his voice compelling her to look up into his eyes.
She did, meeting his gaze squarely, with a courage that obviously cost her. “You keep saying that and I keep doing it, despite being terrified. Why is that?”
“Because we belong to each other.” He looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to believe. “Now turn and let me take care of this.”
With a long, deep breath, she did.
“I’ll take as much of your pain as I can.”
“I’m fine. Just do it and be done, okay?”
He lifted her thick, silky hair and bunched it in one fist as he laid the tip of the knife to the tiny scar on her neck. At the base of her skull, nearly hidden by her hair, it was so small, he knew it had to be a microchip.
Silver, of course, so it wouldn’t be a constant drain on her powers and thus tip her off to its existence. Silver for witches was a conduit to other elements. It focused their powers, channeled their energies-and the fact that their enemies had used that element against her fried his ass.
Torin edged the tip of the knife into her skin and winced as blood welled and trickled down her back. She jerked a little at the pain, but then held steady, the only sign of her distress her heavy, uneven breathing.
“Almost,” he whispered, then dug the chip free of her body and caught it in his hand. “Hold on to me, Shea.”
She automatically reached back and laid one hand on his side. He felt the fire of their joined energies and carefully fed them onto the bleeding cut on her neck. Instantly, the cut healed and he used his thumb to wipe away the blood.
“Did you get it?”
“Yes.”
She turned and looked down at his palm. “It’s so small.”
“Microchips.” He walked to the fireplace, set the chip on the mantel and slammed the knife handle down onto it. When it was splintered, he gathered the pieces and tossed them into the flames.
“Thank you.”
He slanted a look at her. “You don’t have to thank me for caring for you,” he said. “It is what I will always do.”
“Why?”
“Because you are mine as I am yours.”
Her voice was soft, her eyes flaring with a hunger they had shared over the centuries. “I don’t even know you.”
“You do. You just don’t remember.”
“Same thing.”
“Stubborn witch,” he said with a shake of his head. Digging into the pocket of his black jeans, he tugged out a cell phone and flipped it open.
Her eyes widened. “Seriously? A magical guy uses a cell phone?”
“Satellite phone. We can use technology, too. We live in the modern world, Shea, and fashion it to suit our purposes.” He waited. Rune answered on the second ring.
“The woman’s safe,” Rune said with a tinge of disgust. “She and her mother and daughter are packing, for chrissakes. What is it with women? They’re on the run, with crazies after them, and they want to take time to pack? What is that?”
Torin smiled at the image of three mortal females driving his friend insane. “Before you go to Sanctuary, check Terri’s neck.”
“Why?” Instantly Rune was serious.
Shea’s gaze was locked on his as she realized that she might not be the only one tagged for recapture.
“Shea had a microchip embedded at the base of her skull.”
“Shit.”
“If Terri’s got one too, you could lead BOW straight to Sanctuary.”
“Bastards,” Rune grumbled. “She’s not even a witch.”
“Just check.”
“On it.” He disconnected and Torin slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“Will Terri be all right?”
“Yes. Rune will see to it.”
“Okay.” She took a breath and looked up at him. “Now what?”
“We run.”
She sighed and Torin could see how tired she was. But she was also strung tight enough to snap. Not a good combination in an Awakening witch. “Go take a shower. Rinse off the dried blood. You’ll feel better.”
“I don’t have anything to wear,” she reminded him.
“Make something.”
When she just stared at him as if he’d lost his mind, he gritted his teeth against the rush of frustration. He had to keep reminding himself that she was only now realizing what she was. That she didn’t know how to use the innate talents the universe and the goddess Danu had blessed her with. “You have the power. It’s inside you. Draw on it.”
“How’m I supposed to do that?”
“Close your eyes.”
She did, then opened them again. “Is this a trick?”
“Close your eyes, woman.” When she had, he said, “Now get a picture in your mind. Imagine the clothes you want to be wearing. Right down to the last detail. Every button, every zipper. Got it?”
She scowled, scrunching her eyes closed tightly in concentration; then she nodded.
“Good. Now keep that picture in your mind and draw on the power you used to stop my damn car.”
A short, sharp laugh shot from her throat and Torin smiled in response. She made quite the picture. His witch with her wild hair and smooth skin, wrapped in a quilt, dazzled by firelight. Every cell in his body went into overdrive. His need for her was more than lust. Sex with her felt as necessary as air to him. He had to have her. Had to touch. Taste. Explore.
“Now what?”
Her question drew him out of his fantasies and forced him to focus on the moment. Soon enough, she would be with him where she belonged.
“Bring up the power in your mind. Feel the rush, the rising sweep of it. Keep that image of the clothes in your head and let the power loose.”
A moment passed, then two. And suddenly, the flames in the fireplace leapt and snapped. A wind rose up in the cabin and lifted her hair into a tangle of red curls around her head. He saw her skin glow with the sweep of power and felt the air sizzle with the strength of it.
She smiled, a beautiful, full smile, and she gasped in surprise and dropped the quilt. She opened her eyes. Looking down at her blue jeans, white shirt and dark green sweater, she laughed in delight.
“Congratulations,” he said. She was so damn pleased with the ability to conjure clothes, and all he wanted was to get her naked again. He pushed back his own need… again. “Go shower. We’ll eat, then figure out what’s next.”
Her smile died fast and Torin almost felt guilty for ruining her pleasure. But better that than get her dead.
When she headed to the bathroom, he took his phone out and made another call.
