Obsessed (66 page)

The realization of what she was doing hit her with such force that she cried out, “T’non!” and pulled away.

Or tried to pull away. Evvan was so muscled and strong that she’d only succeeded in breaking the kiss. She had no doubt this man could overpower her with no trouble at all. Yet inside she felt certain he would never hurt her, or force her to do anything she didn’t choose to do.

Would he? Was she being hopelessly naïve? Hell, she was a New Yorker. She knew better than to trust a stranger.

“Stop,” she repeated in his language, harder this time and using her don’t-mess-with-me tone. “I didn’t give you permission to kiss me.”

“You do speak the common tongue.” Evvan’s expression was dark and sensuous as he stroked his thumb along her jaw to her still tingling lips. “I do not need permission to take what is mine.”

A flare of anger heated Nat from head to toe. “Excuse me, jerk,” she started in English and then switched to the man’s language, “I am not yours to take.”

“You are mine.” He scowled, his fierce expression sending a quick rush of fear through Natalie.

And that bit of fear pissed her off.

With everything she had, she kicked Evvan’s shin with her sandaled foot and then tried to yank away from him. But he held her fast.

Not even a muscle twitched on his face to indicate she’d done any damage, but his scowl deepened.

“Let. Me. Go!” She slammed her hands against his chest and pushed away from him.

“As you wish.” Evvan released her.

Natalie stumbled back, her anger changing to shock as she fell and landed on her ass. Pain shot up her backside and she headed straight on back to furious.

“Bastard.” Bracing her hands on the cool rock floor, she glared up at the man who now had his hands folded across his chest. He stared at her with an unreadable expression that pissed her off even more.

“I have no time for such distractions.” He took a step forward, and her heart thumped harder at his menacing look. “I have a life to avenge and I cannot allow you to interrupt what must be done. I must get you to safety, finish my task, and then I shall deal with you.”

Despite the fact that she was on her ass, staring up at a man who towered a good six feet above her, she did her best to let him know she wasn’t going to put up with his crap. “Get real.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

Nat put one hand to her forehead and tried to calm down. What was the matter with her? This was a virtual reality exhibit for cripes sake.

“All right.” Her eyes met his black gaze as she spoke. “Okay. I get it. It’s part of the game—you rescue the damsel in distress—moi—and pretend you’re going to cart me off to a castle in the sky once you kill off the bad guy.”

She pushed herself to her feet and stood so that she was nose to, er, chest with him. “But I’m not in the mood to play this stupid game,” she said in English. “I want out. Now.”

Evvan studied her with his intense gaze. “You speak in a tongue I am not familiar with, l’tiani,” he replied in his own language. “From whence did you come?”

Nat rolled her eyes to the passageway’s ceiling that still glowed an eerie gold color. Okay, so she’d have to play along or she’d get nowhere. “This is just a game,” she said, trying to find the words for virtual reality machine in Evvan’s language, and coming up dry. “I just want to get it over with and go home.”

“Game?” The corner of his mouth quirked in a predatory expression. “If this is a game to you, l’tiani, I have already won.” His voice deepened and he pulled her close to him again.

Her temper snapped and she pounded her fist against his rock-hard chest. “My name is not little one. It’s Natalie.”

“Not-a-lee.” The throaty way he repeated her name sent shivers down her spine, diffusing her anger, damn him. “’Tis a beautiful name.” He lowered his head, nuzzling the curve of her neck and lightly biting her flesh. “Where is it you hail from, l’tiani?”

What the heck. Natalie sighed, part from resignation at trying to get Evvan to stop playing this game, and partly from sheer lust at the feel of his lips and teeth against her neck. Damn but she wanted him. Yet how could she want to fuck such an arrogant bastard?

“New York City,” she murmured, leaning into him. “The Big Apple.”

Evvan’s body and soul vibrated with need as he moved his lips along Natalie’s elegant neck, gently nipping and biting at her skin, down to the hollow at the base of her throat. A small, hungry moan escaped her, and he growled in satisfaction.

Moving his hands and mouth over her appetizing form, Evvan breathed in the luscious perfume of his l’tiani. At the same time he searched the area outside the Netherworld with his senses for the dragon…for Voral.

The moment the beast had resisted the shroud, Evvan had suspected it to be the Fae killer, the Sorcerer Voral, who had apparently shape-shifted into a form befitting his foul, dark soul. And when Evvan had seen those sinister orange eyes, he had been positive that the Sorcerer and the dragon were one and the same.

D’euan Deep’s protective spells would keep them safe from the Sorcerer, for now. It was bound and sealed with a combination of powerful Fae, Elvin, and Dwarven magic. That enchantment would allow none through the magical gates, except for the few who had been granted permission to travel from Dair to D’euan Deep. If not for other dangers, he would leave Natalie here as he sought out the Fae killer. But nay, he must take her to the one place he felt certain she would be safe, the one place in this world where she must have come from.

Astral.

Natalie gasped as Evvan cupped her breasts and held the firm flesh in his palms. He gnashed his teeth, frustrated at having to hold himself back. He wanted to lightly bite her nipples as he fucked her again and again.

Once they resurfaced and left the Netherworld, Evvan would re-locate the Fae killer and revenge all the Fae lives the bastard had taken.

And his l’tiani… If he had questioned Natalie’s origins before, he was now certain. After she had blocked the dragon’s fire, there could be no doubt that she was Fae.

As he continued tasting her skin, Natalie slid her hands into his hair, tipped her head back and moaned again. She moved her hands to his ears and stilled as she stroked them from tip to base and even tugged on them. “Your ears. They feel so real.”

He raised his head to look into her green gaze. “You had doubts?”

Nat rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as Elves. And you certainly don’t look like a—a Vulcan.” Her nose scrunched as she gave him a critical look. “Well, perhaps a cross between a Vulcan and a Klingon, only better looking and sexier.”

Natalie gasped as Evvan caught her face in his palms and studied her. Something was amiss, and he intended to determine what it might be.

With the powers of the Devline, he slid into her memories. The familiar tingling sensation bled through his fingertips and into her mind. In moments he absorbed the sights, smells, and sounds of her strange and bizarre world. Her speech was still unknown to him, as were the many other languages she apparently commanded. But the pictures from her mind’s eye of her life were easy enough for him to read.

All the way back to her birth…and her heritage.

Slowly he withdrew from her memories ’til he saw only Natalie before him.

“What the hell did you just do?” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “It felt like you were in my head.”

“You are not from this world.” Thoughtfully he brushed strands of jensai-red hair from her eyes as he contemplated what he had seen. “Yet you are of this world.”

“What’s the deal?” Natalie frowned. “First you act like you’re hot for me, and in the next moment you’re studying me like a museum exhibit.”

Instead of answering, Evvan released her and motioned to a rock near L’th’amir. His time was limited and he had much to explain to his heartmate. It was certain she would not easily believe what he had to say to her. “Sit,” he commanded.

Natalie propped her hands on her hips. “Just where do you get off ordering me around?”

He clenched his hands at his sides and gave her the same scowl that had intimidated countless men and beings far more fierce than this petite creature before him. “Sit.”

With a scowl of her own, Natalie crossed her arms over her breasts and plopped onto the boulder beside the golden horse. “You are one strange guy,” she muttered. “Hot. Cold…”

“We have much to discuss.” Evvan raked one hand through his wild mane of black hair as he paced the cave floor.

Natalie raised her hands, palms up. “Well?”

He gave her a sharp look. “The Devline are gifted with the ability to experience another person’s life by mind-touching.”

“Oh, sure.” Natalie rolled her eyes to the cave ceiling before looking at him again. “You just did a Vulcan mind-meld, right? So the pointed ears don’t make you an elf after all. You’re just a reject from a Star Trek conven—”

“Listen!” Evvan growled his frustration as he continued pacing. “You were adopted as a youngling—a toddler—and have no recollection of anything from your childhood before your third birthday, by Human years. You were reared by wealthy individuals who raised you as their own daughter.”

“How do you know all of that?” She dropped her hands to her lap, her eyes wide. “Did Miz tell you?”

“You have a gift for languages,” he continued, scowling at the imp who dared to interrupt him, “which is how you learned the common tongue so easily.”

Her spine straightened. “Now hold on—”

He gave her a look so fierce she snapped her lips shut and glared at him as he went on. “Aye, those are all things that anyone could have learned about you in your world.”

Evvan paused directly in front of Natalie, speaking slowly so that every word he said carried enough weight to impress upon her the truth in his message. “But you have never told a soul how you have always felt apart from the rest of your world. As though you did not truly belong there.”

Chills rolled through Natalie as she stared at Evvan. Surely he had guessed that. Wouldn’t be too hard—lots of people probably felt that way.

“You need more proof,” he said in a manner that seemed to be more of a statement to himself. “When you were a youngling, you accidentally broke the chain to your mother’s silver star pendant—it matched the birthmark behind your ear—and you hid her star in the knothole of a tree in your backyard.”

“How…” Warmth flushed through Nat and she closed her eyes, blocking out Evvan’s fiercely handsome face. No one had ever known that, and definitely not Miz. When Natalie was young she had been afraid she would get in trouble when she broke the pendant. Years later, when she had searched for the star to have the chain repaired and to return it to her mother, it was gone. Nat had never forgiven herself for that.

Evvan’s warm breath brushed over her lips, sending shivers along her spine. She opened her eyes to find him crouching before her, his face a fraction from hers. “Now do you believe?” The predator of a man seemed almost gentle.

Unable to control herself, Natalie moved her hands to his ears and stroked him with her fingertips. She concentrated on exploring every ridge, every curve, every seam…searching for some indication that they weren’t real.

But they felt every bit as real as her own.

“I don’t understand.” She swallowed and brought her fingers to the black tattoos along his cheekbones, feeling as though she was in a strange fog as she traced the unusual patterns. “This is like being in an episode of The Twilight Zone.”

As Evvan spoke it was like he was using magic in his voice to attempt to relax her mind into accepting the truth in his words. “Your ability to master languages in a fraction of time—that is no fluke. ’Tis magic you were born with.”

“Magic? You’re nuts.” Natalie shook her head and let her fingers slide away from his face and braced her hands upon the boulder she was sitting on. “I entered a machine to play a game. That’s all.”

“This is no game, l’tiani.” Evvan captured her hands in his and brought them to his chest, his dark eyes still focused on hers. “You were brought to this world, to Dair, by a skypath. A sort of…ripple in the universe as you might say in the world you came from.”

“You’re saying that all of this is real?” Natalie pulled one hand away from his grasp and pointed toward the tunnel that they had just come through. “That dragon…the forest…” She gestured toward his ears. “And that you are really an Elf?”

“Aye.” Evvan took her by the shoulders and gripped her tight in a possessive manner. “And you, my l’tiani, have merely come home.”

Almost every fiber of Nat’s being wanted to cry out in agreement with what Evvan revealed. Something buried deep inside her said he spoke the truth. And somehow it made all the weird things that had happened in her life suddenly make sense.

Well, there were her unusual looks. And she’d been considered a wunderkind for her ability to master languages so quickly. Could it be that her talent had something to do with her being from a totally different world, a magical world?

Ha. You’re losing it now for sure, Nat.

The logical part of her battled in full force. The part of her that didn’t believe in magic and fairytales couldn’t quite accept what the man—Elf—whatever the hell he was—had told her.

Natalie shrugged away from Evvan and jumped up from her perch on the boulder. “This is absurd.” Turning her back on him, she kicked off her one remaining sandal. It thunked against the cave wall as she walked barefoot through the passageway, hugging her arms tight to her chest.

Rocks poked into her bare soles, and she only hoped she didn’t cut herself. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d had a tetanus shot, and who knew if there were antibiotics in this place.

That is if she wasn’t currently dreaming or hallucinating, or locked up in a padded cell in a mental ward. Perhaps she was the one who belonged in St. Jude’s.

She sensed Evvan and his horse following her as she proceeded through the passageway. His glow continued to light the way, and through the dimness ahead it looked as though the tunnel went on forever. An eerie silence prevailed, and she wondered how the man and horse could follow her so quietly. Yet without looking, she knew they were there.