Page 18 of Ancient Magic

Of destiny.

Micha shivered as a voice in the back of his mind whispered for him to flee. He hadn’t traveled to New York to be distracted by a woman, no matter how tempting she might be. All he wanted was to ensure that this Gyre wasn’t stolen by a treacherous rebel and then return to the welcome privacy of his lair.

But he didn’t flee. In fact, he took a step closer, savoring the heat that radiated around her. Mages were warmer than mortals, intensifying the sensation he was being well and truly beguiled.

“Beautiful,” he murmured in soft tones.

She slowly turned her head, revealing her delicate features and a midnight gaze. Shock jolted through Micha. Skye might look as innocent as an angel, but there was an aching, primordial knowledge contained in those eyes.

“It is lovely,” she agreed.

Micha swept his gaze over her upturned face. “And priceless.”

She met his gaze without flinching. “I’m not here to steal it, if that’s why you followed me.”

Startled appreciation seared through Micha at her bold courage. Most creatures melted in fear whenever they were in the presence of a vampire. This woman might look fragile, but her spine was made of steel.

“That’s not why I followed you,” he assured her. “I have no doubt that if you wanted it, Valen would hand it over without any need for an art heist.”

“Doubtful,” she argued, nodding toward the masterpiece. “Valen is generous, but according to Peri this is one of his favorite paintings.”

His gaze remained tangled with her mesmerizing eyes. “And according to Valen he would do anything to please his new mate. Including giving away his favorite painting to her closest friend.”

Her brows lifted in surprise. “You know who I am?”

Not as well as I intend to know you.

“Skye Claremont. A mage, seer, and one of Peri’s partners at the Witch’s Brew,” he said out loud, pressing a hand to the center of his chest as he prepared to offer her an old-fashioned bow. “I am—”

“Micha. Cabal leader from New Orleans,” she cut short his introduction.

“Ah. I suppose Peri warned you about the various vampires invading her lair?”

She shrugged. “There was no need. Vampires rarely need introductions. Even the ones who prefer to stay out of the spotlight.”

Unfortunately, she was right. Even when he preferred to avoid the human press, it was impossible to amass his enormous fortune without attracting a considerable amount of attention.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing,” he muttered.

“It’s universally accepted that it’s good to be the king.”

“I’m not technically a king.”

“Leader? Chief. Big kahuna?”

Micha chuckled. He’d never encountered anyone like this woman. “Did you come in here just to admire the Rembrandt?”

She hesitated, as if she was considering whether to answer his question. Then she glanced toward the closed door with a small sigh.

“I needed a few minutes away from the crowd.”

“Wise decision. A horde of demons jammed in one room is enough to give any sane creature a panic attack,” he said dryly. “Me included.”

“It’s not that they’re demons. At least not entirely,” she clarified. “But I’m tired and my shields are weaker than usual. It makes it more difficult to block out the emotions of the guests.”

“Is sensing emotions a byproduct of your gift?”

“Gift.” Her jaw tightened, as if she was clenching her teeth. “I suppose you could call it that.”

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