Bunny said that. Bunny is just on the other side of the door. I know it’s just a dream but I want to lunge into the room and gut him with a sword. Watch him bleed out. Shake the truth from him. From the snap in the other man’s reply, I think he feels the same. “You do not get to presume what the Queen needs or not, do you understand?”
“Yes,” Bunny replies, his voice soft again.
“How long?”
“Tomorrow—maybe tonight. The paint is nearly dry. That’s why I built the fire. Otherwise it’s too damp and cold for the oil to set.”
The response to that is a growl, low and menacing, and I truly fear for Bunny’s life. I wish for the man to lose his composure and break him with a snap. He’d deserve it, but I need that gate open as much as anyone. I glance around for something—anything, and land on the tapestry hanging at the base of the stairs. Quietly I tip-toe down and yank on the cloth, bringing it and the iron bar holding it to the ground. I’ve started running before metal hits stone.
“Who’s out there?” the man’s voice shouts, but I’m gone.
This time I head down. Down, down, down. The warmth of Bunny’s fire vanishes and I’m plunged into freezing temperatures. The scrape of metal catches my attention. My feet stick to the floor and I glance down, looking at the dark, congealed fluid. A groan—low and painful—ricochets down the hall. A sick feeling lodges in my throat and I know, I know what is behind the bars at the far end of the wall.
Footsteps echo down the stairwell, angry commands. I can’t go down the hall—can’t see what’s waiting down there. I also can’t go back up. I press against the wall and close my eyes, wake up, wake up, wake up….
My eyes pop open. It’s daylight and my bed is a soft cushion beneath me. My hands tremble—fingertips cold. The dream was so real. More so than any I’d had before. I sit, feeling a presence in the room. Not human. Not Dylan. No, magic. Magic filled that dream. It was sent to me. By the Shaman? By the Queen? I don’t know, but I now have a timeline. Tonight or tomorrow the gate will be open and Bunny will try to pass through.
I slip from the bed, figuring out how I’m going to get everything in motion. It’s going to take a lot more than magic to make this happen.
Chapter 17
Dylan
I doze in the chair outside Morgan’s room. Half in, half out of sleep. I’m tugged fully awake by what feels like a shift—magical in nature. I hold my breath and listen, but there’s nothing and no one unexpected in the house.
I hear the click of the lock before the door opens. My main emotions lately have been frustrated and angry. Exhaustion outweighs both of those. But looking up at the tense, hungry expression on Morgan’s face and the thin pajamas she’s wearing catches my full attention.
“Keeping watch?” she says.
“I’m just worried.” I sit straighter in the chair. “Something’s building. Do you feel it?”
She nods and stands directly before me. Her T-shirt is so thin it may as well be a second skin. Her shorts leave nothing to the imagination. She’s bare beneath both and if she’s trying to knock me off my game, it’s working.
Her lips are pink and her hair is a curly mess around her head. Energy vibrates off of her—the same one she’s struggled with for months. She basically needs to feed, and my body reacts accordingly.
She steps forward, our knees touching. “Do you trust me?” she asks.
“Always.”
“Even when I do things like last night—wandering off on my own?”
I touch her hip. “That’s not about trust. That’s about safety.”
She licks her bottom lip. “Do you understand that sometimes I have to do things on my own? Make my own way in this battle with the Morrigan?”
She’s asking a lot of questions, but her scent, her proximity, and that damn tight shirt are making it hard as hell to focus. It only gets worse when she tugs at the string holding up her shorts and they fall to the floor. Blood rushes from my brain, building to an ache between my legs. I swallow and skim my thumb over the flesh of
her hip. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“The time has come for me to deal with the Morrigan. You’ve trained me. You’ve educated me. I’m as ready as I ever will be.”
I shake my head, fighting through the fog of lust. “We need more time—we don’t even have access to the gate.”
Her hands reach for my belt. Mine go to her ass. I knead the skin as her fingers unleash me from my pants. A graze of fingertips sends a jolt through my body, I pull her on top of me, her legs straddled over mine, our bodies hot and wet against one another.
I push at the hem of her shirt, moving it over her head. I take her left nipple with my mouth, her right with my fingers. She exhales, resting her chin on my head.
She whispers, “When I get the gate open you have to stay here. Do you understand? We’ll need someone on this side of the realm to keep watch—to be ready for our return.”