“All the more with that choker.” He’d gazed at her neck so often, she could swear he was the vampire. “Are you uncomfortable?”
“If I were a guy and I had to choose one girl here, I’d pick me hands down. But you yammered on about the fey style so much, maybe you like that better.” She tapped her chin. “Rune, maybe you are an idiot.”
“If you couldn’t tell by my speechless reaction earlier, you nearly put me to my knees. You’re easily the sexiest female here. And you’re with me alone.”
“I’m more used to being inside a shell for gigs like this.”
“You’re welcome inside me.” Over the last two weeks, he’d concealed her in his body a couple of times.
“And if I get too excited and embody?” She still had trouble controlling her ghost-mode.
“Then you’ll have to remain by my side, where I can show you off.” He led her to a grand staircase.
“Are these things always so popular?”
He nodded. “Especially during an Accession.”
Had these Loreans attended to find their mates? Or their foes? “So ballpark this for me. How many here have you slept with?”
“I don’t think you want to know that. But I’ll tell you I want to sleep with only one here.”
Awww. He was good.
As they descended the steps, he said, “You’re attracting even more admirers than I am.”
She’d noticed guys whipping their heads around to check her out, females too. “Good thing you never get jealous.”
He raised his brows. “Shall we dance?”
“I thought we were here to fight.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “And I can’t dance.”
“I’ll lead. Just go with it, love.”
She froze. “You called me ‘love.’ ”
“Nonsense. I called you ‘dove.’ ”
She squared her shoulders. “Bullshit. You said ‘love.’ ”
“I’ve told you dark fey aren’t capable of that, but imagine whatever you like, dove.”
“If we were in my motel room, I’d tell you to fuck off until you slammed me into a wall.”
“I recall that night often.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “In lieu of that, we could ballroom dance.”
“Same diff, I guess.”
He took her in his arms and swept her onto the floor. At first Jo was awkward, but as soon as she let him lead, a miracle happened. “Look at me! I’m a wicked good dancer. You’re passable too.”
His lips curled. “You’re wicked good at everything.” Then he grew serious. “Do you know how proud I am of your runes?” His gaze was so solemn.
How could she resist him when he was like this? When the entire experience was like a dream?
I’m falling headlong. . . .
So many things reminded Jo of that grand wedding she’d crashed. She felt like a bride in her elegant gown. The music wasn’t too dissimilar. The dancing seemed about the same.
She peered up at Rune. He’s my guy. My groom. When his eyes held hers, she didn’t bother hiding what she was feeling.
Adoration.
The message must’ve been received, because he gave her a nod, then swallowed, as if with nervousness. Yeah, this is the real deal, Rune. And she suspected he was falling right beside her.
As he twirled her around the floor, she gave herself up to the night. Trusting him, she leaned her head back and simply felt.
Giddiness. Dizziness. Joy. She almost ghosted from pleasure. She was living a fairy tale; she never wanted it to end—
“I’m about to get blitzed.” His torso muscles tightened under her palm.
Jo raised her head. “Like trashed?”
He murmured, “No, rushed.” He scanned the crowd. “Fifty swordsmen are about to descend on me.”
FORTY-NINE
The imminent attack puzzled Rune.
If Saetthan had dispatched these bounty hunters, then why not hire twice the number?
Rune concluded they were all fey, but probably not ex-military. Carrying short swords, they displayed neither the martial showiness of Sylvan soldiers nor the distinctive longswords of the Titanians. They wielded no Draiksulian bows.
Perhaps these males might give him a challenge. Perhaps that was why there weren’t more.
“Josephine, I want you to stand over there by the wall and become intangible.” He wished he could send her away completely.
She laughed. “Forget it. I’m fighting too.”
“If you give me room, I’ll return to you within minutes.” Nearby guests made outraged sounds as hunters elbowed their way toward the dance floor. The orchestra went quiet, one instrument at a time. A hush fell over the ballroom. The wiser attendees dispersed.
One sword-bearing male stepped onto the floor, then another, and another. Each was focused on Rune.
His only trepidation was due to the female at his side. “If you’re vulnerable, my thoughts will be divided.” He unstrapped his bow.
“I can use telekinesis while I ghost.”
“Can you focus it enough to pick out my foes alone? I mean this. Trust me, Josie. Let me show you what I do.”
She hesitated. “If you get killed, I will kick your ass so hard.”
Though Jo dutifully moved to the wall and ghosted, her nerves made her outline flicker, so she remained visible in flashes.
She was a wallflower who wanted to be out on that ballroom floor—so she could fight.
Everyone had fled the area, except for a few idiot spectators peeking out from doorways and balconies, scandalized by the promise of a clash.
Bounty hunters advanced on Rune, surrounding him. How could she not fight for him? They kept coming, their circle tightening.
One gave a battle yell. Heart in her throat, she watched them charge.
Utterly calm, Rune strung five red arrows—poisoned ones. He turned his bow horizontal and let them fly. The arrows fanned out in the air, drilling through the first line of men, then the second—then the third.
Fifteen men down! They moaned on the ground, dying from Rune’s agonizing poison.
He nocked five more arrows, repeating the shot. At least a dozen dropped.
Like a blur, he swept through the fallen, collecting arrows from the last wave of bodies. As he refilled his quiver, he kept one arrow in hand to stab necks, wasting even more swordsmen.
He was faster than blood splatter, dodging jugular sprays. Compared to Rune, his attackers seemed to be moving in slo-mo. They plodded and slipped on the bloody glass.
She’d seen him in action, but never like this. Never against so many opponents.
With his quiver full, he vaulted to a balcony. Three couples were hiding there. Though Rune gave them only a passing glance, the males gazed at him with terror. The females sighed over him, about to swoon with desire. One reached for a meager touch of his leg.
Rune’s next round of arrows flew in a curving trajectory. He’d arced them to make impossible strikes, then leapt down for another arrow harvest. Not a drop of blood marked him.
Her worry faded. On occasion, he’d spoken of his fey and demon halves, one more methodical, one more aggressive. The methodical fey was at the fore as Rune coldly and efficiently destroyed the threat. Only a few were left standing.
He was magnificent. And he knew it. In the middle of a kill, he turned to take in her breathless, awed reaction.
The cocky dark fey winked at her.
She’d never wanted him more.
Once he finished taking out this trash, she’d kiss those smirking lips and nip the bottom one till he groaned. When they were alone, she’d strip, revealing the lingerie she’d bought today.
And if she let him have her tonight? He’d told her he would take pains to get her ready. She imagined him petting her with those amazing fingers until she was wet and aching, then he’d work his big shaft inside her. When he entered her to the hilt, would his kiss steal her cry?