Page 16 of The Seer

“Turn evil?” Her brows clashed, and confusion filled her lovely visage. “I don’t understand.”

Fintan saw no reason to hold back the truth. If she wished to be so bold, she could easily ask Damian about his kind. Hell, she probably had.

“I’d have thought Brenna would’ve told you about our Aunt Odessa.”

“Not all of it,” she said. “She only mentioned she’d worked for her, in passing, and it wasn’t pleasant.”

His cousin’s conflict with Odessa’s Succubus was personal, and if she didn’t wish to share, he’d not dishonor her by telling tales behind her back.

“If I steal another’s magic through seduction, using my musical gifts, I’ll become an Incubus.”

She shook her head, and her frown deepened. “I’ve heard the term in passing, but I thought they were something the fantasy world made up.”

“No,aoibhneas mo croí. They’re very real. And they’ve an insatiable desire for sex and power, not carin’ who they destroy to get it.”

“But your cousins aren’t evil, meaning they haven’t stolen any power. What makes you believe you would?”

While it was true Narissa and Brenna were possessed of an ironclad will, Fintan wasn’t. He was weak. And because of that weakness, he’d buried himself at the estate and enchanted the landscape to hide for the last two and a half decades. If the temptation were removed, his chances of remaining human were greater. Even as he had the thought, his gaze dropped to Taryn’s full lips. The pull to seduce her was more fierce than any he’d experienced. Having her here, in his safe space, sheltered from the world, was intoxicating. If he could keep her here forever, he would.

“Sexual desire, whether it be a man’s or a woman’s, is biological, Taryn-Taryn,” he said in a soft, hypnotic voice. As he spoke, the tendrils of his power emerged and drifted through the air between them. It enveloped her, caressing her aura and stoking her barely concealed desire for him. “It stems from a need to procreate. But for my kind, the drive is greater than all that.” He strummed a haunting note, drawing it out longer than humanly possible. Lowering his voice, he said, “It’s a necessity.”

He felt the second her passion sparked to life, and she shifted in her seat. Her breaths were little more than pants as her head fell back and her eyes closed. If he wanted to give her an orgasm with just his music, he could, but the risk of taking what she wouldn’t freely give—her magic—was too great.

The chord he struck was discordant and an assault on their ears. He dropped the guitar onto the seat beside him and rose.

“I’ll tell Brenna you’re here,” he said coolly, prepared to hide from Taryn for the remainder of his life if he had to. There was no way in hell he’d hurt her if he could help it. And that’s what stealing from her would do: remove not only her abilities but her life force with it.

“You wouldn’t,” she said, barely above a whisper, halting his retreat.

“What?” He spun back.

“You wouldn’t steal from me or kill me. I know that, Fintan.”

Sudden, uncontrollable rage filled him at her inability to grasp the seriousness of what he was, what he could do to her if left unchecked.

“Fuck if you know anything about me, Taryn Stephens! You with your basic witch ways and your feckin’ sad eyes!” He stormed back and knelt before her. Roughly grabbing her hips, he dragged her to the edge of the cushion before parting her jean-clad legs to press his pelvis to hers. “Do ya not think I feel your lust? That me monster isn’t excited by your wish for me to fuck ya every way to Sunday and beyond?”

He fisted her hair and forced her closer until their chests collided, and she was panting in earnest. Fear or desire, it didn’t matter because both turned him on and, in doing so, turned her on through their bond.

“And this”—he ran his nose along the throat he’d exposed, breathing in her addicting pheromones—“thisthinginside me, strugglin’ to break free? Yeah, it grows stronger every fuckin’ time you come ‘round, swishing that grand ass of yours.”

Tugging her head back, he met her shimmering eyes and felt remorse for his aggression. Yet he needed to prove his point. She was no match for his strength or effortless ability to take what his Siren craved.

“I could make ya come with a song, love. Five notes at most. And it would be too late for you to protect yourself from my Incubus. Protect us both. Because I want ya more than I can put into words.”

Contrarily, she licked her lips and looked intrigued. “Five notes?”

With a snort of disbelief, he released her and stood. “You’re feckin’ mad, you are. Stay away for your own safety, Taryn-Taryn. I’m beggin’ ya.”

As Fintan strode from her,Taryn whooshed out a breath. The idea of a five-note orgasm wouldn’t leave her after he implanted it into her brain. How did a Siren make someone come with just their voice? Was that why Eoin was always smiling around Brenna? Why Narissa strutted with such confidence?

When Fintan had strummed his guitar and spoken to her in his husky, hypnotic voice, he’d awoken a vicious need inside Taryn. One that wouldn’t quit until he satisfied it.

Was it intentional? Had he done it to prove a point only to forget to shut it down? Would sex with him today be better than their first time together?

“Fuuuucccck!” His shout rang out, and he strode back into the sunroom an instant later. “Ya can’t be havin’ those thoughts while you’re here! Get out!”

Lifting her chin, she dug deep for courage in the face of his furious scowl. “It’s not your house, Fintan Sullivan. It’s Brenna’s.”

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