Page 67 of Twilight Longings

Kadie glanced over at Saintcrow, wondering what the men were talking about.

He met her gaze and winked at her just as Kincaid exclaimed, “A baby? Kadie wants a baby?”

Saintcrow shrugged. “That’s what she says.”

“Holy hell. Do you think that’s a good idea, what with Luca still on the loose?”

Saintcrow shrugged. “She was so excited by the idea, I never thought about Luca, but you’re right. This is definitely not a good time.” He blew out a sigh. He hated to disappoint Kadie, but a baby would have to wait, at least for a while.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Luca stood over his cauldron, chanting softly. Excitement stirred within him as the water within the cauldron grew cloudy and then began to bubble. A long finger of gray mist rose from the heavy iron pot and wrote three words in the air.

Morgan Creek, Wyoming.

A slow smile spread over Luca’s face as he murmured the name of the town. “Morgan Creek.”

He conjured a map, his excitement growing as he located the town. His cell phone quickly gave him directions.

At last, his search was over.

Chortling with glee, he packed a change of clothes and his new cloak. As an afterthought, he added the wand he had recently made. He rarely had need of such magical implements, but it might come in handy when facing vampires as old and powerful as Kincaid and Saintcrow.

“Tonight, Katya,” he murmured as he finished the last of his preparations. “You will be avenged tonight.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Kincaid was about to release his prey when some inner sense of self-preservation warned him that they were no longer alone. Before he could unleash his preternatural power to determine the danger, an unseen force slammed into him with the crushing power of a bulldozer. The woman in his arms let out a hellacious scream. Blood spurted from her chest, nose, and mouth before she went limp in his arms.

Kincaid let out a harsh cry of his own as pain unlike anything he had ever known drove the breath from his lungs and sent him to his knees. Luca, he thought, fighting for breath. It had to be Luca.

He tried to gather his power, tried to block the necromancer’s dark magic, but to no avail.

Summoning what little energy he had left, Kincaid tried to harness his thoughts, but it was hard to think coherently through the pain. All he could manage was a single word.Help.He had to trust that Saintcrow would get the message. It was, he thought, his only chance to survive.

Darkness closed in around him. With his last lucid thought, he tried to tell Rosa to find Saintcrow. And then oblivion swallowed him whole.

Kincaid woke to darkness, with no awareness of where he was or how long he’d been there. Not that it mattered. What mattered most was Rosa. He had a dim memory of Luca standing over him, telling him in lurid detail how he planned to destroy Rosa an inch at a time. Had she taken refuge with Saintcrow?

Jake growled low in his throat as fear rippled through him. The thought of losing her forever was more excruciating than the knife-like pains that were his constant companion. He writhed in agony as Luca’s magic clawed at him. He had been in pain before but never like this. Teeth clenched, he cursed Izabela’s talisman for failing to protect him, cursed Luca, cursed himself for not being more careful. And yet there was nothing he could have done to thwart Luca’s black magic.

Despair settled over him, darker than his prison. No one knew where he was. Hell, neither did he. There would be no help, no reprieve. Superman wouldn’t fly in to save him at the last minute.

The pain came in waves, stealing his strength and his will to fight. Darkness beckoned him and he fell into it gladly, Rosa’s name a prayer on his lips.

Chapter Forty

Kadie woke in Rylan’s arms late the next morning. She lay there, unmoving, for a long while, content be close to him, to run her fingertips over his broad chest, his wide shoulders, his flat belly ridged with muscle. Unable to resist, she threaded her fingers through his hair. Long, black hair any woman would envy. Curse or no curse, how could she ever have forgotten him, the way he made her feel, the magic of his touch, the warmth of his smile? She grinned inwardly, remembering the early days, when she had refused to admit that she wanted him, loved him.

She splayed her fingers across his chest. He was the most fascinating man she had ever known. He was hers, only hers, and she would fight any woman, vampire or not, who tried to take him from her.

“Quite the little tiger I married,” he murmured.

“Are you complaining?”

“Not likely,” he replied, as he captured her hand in his and licked her palm, sending little frisson of delight coursing through her.

Lifting up on one elbow, he rained kisses on her brow, her cheeks, the point of her chin, the tip of her nose. “This reminds me of when you first came here,” he remarked. “When you wanted to hate me.”

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