Reluctant Adept: Book Three of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (3 page)

"I'll feel better once you're in the amhaín's territory. At least there you will have more protection."

For the moment, I ignored the fact that he hadn't answered my question. "The king's had three weeks to act. He never sent word that he objects to my decision train with the amhaín. You think he's going to send the Hunt for me? He's that threatened by his sister? She gave her word that my training would be free from debt or obligation. He doesn't believe she'll honor that?"

Kieran's body language grew more taut with every one of my questions. He folded his arms, the sleek material of his button down shirt conforming to the defined muscles of his upper arms. He had the build of a martial artist—toned and lithe without being bulky—a beautiful yet deadly package. His offensive magic and physical prowess were a combination against which few sidhe could stand. But King Faonaín wasn't
any
sidhe. He commanded the
Wuldrífan
, the Wild Hunt, a spectral and by all accounts unstoppable hunting party. Even if I discounted this ghostly force, the king ruled over a magically empowered populace with a preternaturally powerful army at his fingertips.

"I think the king has more to worry about of late than the amhaín," Kieran replied.

I took in his rigid stance and crossed arms, everything still except his index finger, which he tapped in a slow, deliberate rhythm against his left bicep. It was that restless gesture that had me biting out a curse, the four-letter word slipping out before I pressed my lips together.

"You've been keeping things from me." I closed my eyes and breathed past the disappointment that settled on my chest. "I thought we were past that."

"
Bídteine
, if I shared every care I had for your safety, you'd soon think I was a hand-wringer with nothing better to do than worry day and night."

My eyes popped open. Truth. Kieran didn't lie. Like all sidhe, honesty with him was a near-fanatical point of honor, but he was as agile as a politician when it came to evading questions he didn't want to answer. No doubt he hoped I'd swoon at his concern for me and lose my train of thought. Sadly, it had been known to happen, but I liked to avoid acting like a star-struck idiot whenever life and limb were on the line.

At my raised eyebrows and dubious stare, he blew out a breath. "I have nothing … concrete," he explained, his voice edging precariously close to being huffy, or as huffy as a proud male sidhe ever managed. "The king has enemies, those who want his power for themselves. If they learn of your existence—that the first adept in almost two thousand years is openly roaming the streets of Seattle—it would be to their advantage to claim you." He narrowed his eyes. "You may not enjoy being lauded as 'the one,' but the value of a proven adept is beyond calculating. There are many who would do anything to leash that power."

He paced away, his body tense and hands clenched. "Brassal has refused to discuss this with me, so I am forced to speculate. But if I were the king, this is a threat I would not dismiss. In fact, it is something I would take steps to
immediately
counter. I would not, for instance, assume that an outcast sidhe could provide enough protection for such an important asset, nor would I want this asset disappearing into my rival's territory where she could not be protected by my own forces."

I decided I hated being described as an 'asset' almost as much as being called 'the one.'

"He'll want me under his thumb, not just because he wants access to my power but so his enemies don't get it."

He nodded, turning to face me. "From his point of view, if he claims you and takes you for his mate, it both assures his continued rule and guarantees your well-being. Kim is deliberately avoiding me. She and Brassal seek to send a message without breaking their oath of loyalty to the king."

Thought of the king taking me against my will and coercing me into becoming his soulmate wound me tight enough to feel sick. The power of sidhe glamours was insidious. I wasn't sure whether I could thwart King Faonaín's sway, even with my partial blood connection to Tíereachán helping me. I wanted to ask, but Kieran disliked discussing my relationship with his cousin, even though it had been platonic from the beginning. (Okay, yes, Tíereachán was breathlessly sexy, but he was also one of the cockiest and most exasperating individuals I'd ever met.) I didn't know whether Kieran's annoyance stemmed more from his cousin's lecherous banter or the knowledge that Tíereachán had forced me into a blood compact when he'd been enslaved by the archdemon Azazel.

I slid Tíereachán from my thoughts and focused on the possibility that Kim was trying to warn us. "How long have you suspected this?"

"Since yesterday. I saw her out in the hall. When I spoke to her, she all but ignored me and the look on her face was …" He frowned. "She's scared. It's not an expression that suits her."

No, I could see how it wouldn't be. Kim might not be as brash as her partner Jackie, but she wasn't timid either. If Kim was worried and unable to tell us, acting this way would give us warning without technically violating her loyalty to the king. And if she was afraid, I had reason to be concerned.

Unease flashed across Kieran's face.

"What?"

He paused, his normally full lips compressed to a flattened line. "Wade called while you were at Claude's this morning."

Wade was the amhaín's soulmate and, therefore, her most intimate liaison. He didn't telephone to shoot the breeze. I folded my arms, pressing them against my stomach as it churned with the all too familiar feeling that came whenever I was about to hear crappy news.

"Two days ago, Maeve testified during her trial that her dealings with Azazel were, while repugnant, necessary in order to learn the identity and location of the prophesied adept." The taut muscles of his jaw flexed as spoke. "She announced the truth of your existence to the Tribunal. Vince was forced to testify, as was Brassal. Your identity and powers are no longer a secret shared by a trusted few."

My lips tingled numbly as the blood drained from my face, and it was all I could do to keep my trembling knees from dumping me on my ass. I staggered to the nearest chair and sat down hard. With my adept status exposed, worry over King Faonaín and his enemies wasn't unfounded.

Not good. Not good at all.

In less than a week, Kieran and I were scheduled to meet Wade in Vancouver, where he'd then drive us to the closest gateway to
Thìr na Soréidh
, the amhaín's sealed enclave within the Otherworld. Our airline tickets to Canada were booked. Kim knew about it, therefore so did the king.

I straightened in my chair, squared my shoulders, and considered where this left us. "Since Wade knows, it's safe to assume the news has leaked beyond the Tribunal," I said. "And, for the sake of argument, let's also assume that all of the king's enemies know I'm an adept and where I am."

I met his gaze. "How are these enemies going to get here? I thought it wasn't easy for you guys to come to Earth nowadays. There's just the one gateway in Evgrenya's territory. Since the king has a treaty with her and she's on his side, that gateway will be heavily guarded, right?"

I knew next to nothing about Evgrenya, except for the fact that she controlled the only gateway outside of the amhaín's sealed domain, which made it the only access point to Earth within the king's reach.

"The only side Evgrenya is guaranteed to support is her own," Kieran said, lips curled in distaste. "It was Maeve who negotiated the treaty, giving Lorcán passage to Ireland. I don't know the specifics of their arrangement. It may have been for temporary access. Now that Maeve is disgraced, there's no telling where Evgrenya's allegiances lie. It would be foolish to assume she'll deny the king's enemies access to her gateway. And even if she did, it could be because she plans to send her own contingent to claim you."

I threw up my hands. "Of course it would. All I have to do is merely
think
of the worst possible scenario and it's sure to happen." I bit back another choice four-letter word. "All right. Options?"

Before either he or Red could answer, I held up my index finger. "One: Hide in my apartment building under the djinn's protection for the rest our days." I raised my second finger. "Two: Leave as planned and try to make it to the amhaín." With the addition of my ring finger, I felt like a Girl Scout repeating her pledge. "Three: Negotiate with the king for your reinstatement and then give myself up."

I abandoned the finger gestures and flopped back in my chair. "Four: Escape to a remote tropical island and go native. Personally, that's my favorite. At least I'd get to see you in nothing but a loincloth for the rest of my life."

No amused reaction to that last bit. Instead, he closed the distance between us, his jaw set and eyes intent. He loomed over me. "Negotiating with the king is, at best, ill-advised and to do so in the hope that he will overturn Maeve's outcast decree is quixotic. I will not allow you to do such a thing."

Well, hello, Mr. Bossy.

"Quixotic, huh?" I launched upright and feigned a frantic glance about the room. "Quick, Red, where's my pocket dictionary?"

Kieran snorted at my antics and gazed down his nose at me. "El Ingenioso Hidalgo Don Quijote de la Mancha?" At my befuddlement, he said, "Apparently, Don Quixote is no longer taught in your schools. Shame."

I shouldn't have been astonished that Kieran knew more about human literature than I did, but I was. The man never stopped surprising me. Quixotic wasn't a word I'd ever heard in conversation, but I knew a little about the seventeenth-century Spanish novel. Precious little, but it was enough for me to puzzle out the word's meaning. Knowing Kieran, no doubt he'd been personally acquainted with Cervantes.

"Negotiating with the king is the equivalent of attacking windmills, huh?" I asked wryly.

"Exactamente."

"Spanish is such a sexy language, so expressive." I tipped my head, examining him archly. "I should warn you, though. I came by some of my dialect by reading items that belonged to more than a few eighteenth-century pirates."

"Attempting to negotiate with the king, in any language, will be your downfall. I'll not allow you to attempt it."

So much for levity. I glared at him, exasperated. "We're going to discuss it, along with the rest of our options, pros and cons, and then
together
we'll decide what to do."

"By all means," he said deliberately and raised his index finger, his expression turning grim. "Option one: Keeping to your apartment for the foreseeable future, allowing the djinn to protect you. For a long term strategy, this will not work. The king or his enemies will seek your friends and family. Your loved ones will be tortured or killed until you submit to their demands."

The speed at which my self-righteous anger turned to fear made my head spin, but he plowed ahead with barely a nod, taking my expression for tacit agreement.

He raised his second finger to join the first. "Option two: We leave as planned, meeting Wade and allowing him to escort us through the amhaín's gateway. This is foolhardy, although the idea is viable. We cannot leave as planned. We must leave now, while everyone expects us to attend your friend's festivities, using your sidestepping ability to evade our enemies when necessary."

"After what you just said about my friends and family?" I gaped. "There's no way I'm leaving them unprotected! I'll go to Kim. Brassal is your best friend. You told me he's trustworthy. He and Kim will help me negotiate a deal so the king will ensure my family and friends are protected."

He stiffened. "Even with Brassal and Kim on your side, the king cannot be trusted. Sacrificing your freedom in return for your friends' protection will only result in your enslavement, and once you are within the king's grasp, I'll be helpless to aid you. As soon as we arrive, I'll be sent on a suicide mission or assigned duty in a far off province, leaving you at his mercy."

I jutted out my chin. "I would make your job as my bodyguard one of my stipulations and bonding with the king would be off the table too."

If Kieran and I were soulmated, it would keep anyone else from bonding with me, but I knew better than to suggest it. If Kieran and I bound our souls, Kieran would become a prime target for assassination.

He shook his head and cupped his hand against my cheek. At his touch, my insides immediately warmed, and I stared into the depths of his dark-brown eyes, wanting nothing more than to stay there forever.

"
Bídteine
, no. The king is ruthless and clever. There is no bargain you can make that will prevent him from claiming you as his mate, killing anyone who interferes. He will have his way unless you can counter his leverage against you. The amhaín can teach you the necessary skills to accomplish that. Take my word as someone who knows—this is the surest path toward protecting your friends and family."

Wilting, I hugged myself. "I never wanted any of this." I stared up at him. "I just want a normal life … a normal life with you. Is that so much to ask?"

His expression softened. "Normal? Or do you mean ordinary?" I opened my mouth to explain, but he beat me to it. "No, my sweet. I understand. I do. I would like nothing more than to find a place where I could be assured of your safety and enjoy my time in your company. But you and I … we are not ordinary, not in your world nor, even, in mine. You because of your abilities and me because of my bloodline and my prior deeds. No amount of wishing will change that … nor would I want to. You are the most extraordinary woman I have ever encountered. It is not possible for you—with your magic and intelligence and generous spirit—to live anything but an extraordinary life." He leaned down to rub his nose alongside mine, making me feel warm and cherished. "It is my honor to be allowed to occupy a part of it, even if things are not exactly as we might wish."

I placed my hand over his heart as I always did whenever he said the things that touched me most. I wondered whether he had any idea what his words did to me. And not just his words, but his actions. With every caress, each tender glance, he'd burrowed his way into my life, and though I'd done my best to resist, I realized he'd found his way into my heart. Kieran was the most honorable, sexy, thoroughly captivating man I'd ever known, and we'd spent the past three weeks practically living in each other's pockets. Protecting my heart had been a lost cause from the start. He was smart, wise, and made me feel as if I was as necessary to his survival as water. I'd teetered on the edge of the slippery slope weeks ago, maybe even from the moment he stepped foot in my apartment and offered me his service as protector, even when his views on humans had been discriminatory at best.