Лори Девоти - Unbound

He stared down at his hands, clasped in hers, then laughed without humor. “I could walk through Muspelheim unscathed, little witch. It isn’t fire I fear.” He glanced up; a tinge of uncertainty colored his gaze.

A frown furrowed Kara’s brow. What had happened? Had she done something wrong? She opened her mouth to ask, to gain reassurance, but he pulled his hands from hers and strode to the couch to retrieve her clothing.

“I need to leave for a while,” he said.

Kara’s mouth snapped shut. He was leaving her.

“I have to check on Lusse,” he continued. “Wait here. I’ll come back.”

Kara tilted her head, studying him. There was no sign of anger in his demeanor, more sadness and resolve. Just a man who needed to check in with his boss, nothing else. It was unfair of her to expect him to forget everything for her, wasn’t it?

He padded back to her side, and pulled her T-shirt over her head so gently Kara barely felt the shirt being tugged into place.

She stood there, letting him, enjoying his touch even while she mourned his leaving.

With the shirt on, he pulled her long hair through the neck opening too, letting the length trail through his hands until it tumbled down her back. “We’ll sift through what we’ve learned, and we will find your sister.”

With that said, he tilted her face up with one finger and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.

Kara stood there, telling herself it was fine. He had to leave. He’d be back, and until then she had all kinds of things to sort out herself.

Risk left Kara standing with her back to the fire, her jeans held in front of her, her legs still bare. He had to leave. Needed space to think about what was happening to him — what his newfound fears for Kara meant, what her powers meant. How he could keep her safe and use her to separate him from Lusse at the same time.

The answer was simple — he couldn’t. He would have to choose. His freedom or Kara’s safety. There was no way to have both. But there was still Lusse to deal with. She wouldn’t give up her hunt for Kara now, not knowing she was half of a twin set. And there was Kara. She wouldn’t desert the hunt for her sister.

He could perhaps convince Lusse that Kara was dead — especially given a bit of time, and he could disappear from Kara’s life, make sure Lusse never again caught a whiff of her — somehow. But his disappearance wouldn’t stop Kara from looking for Kelly. She would go it alone without him there to protect her.

No, he had to come up with another plan. Give Lusse enough information to buy him time, return to Kara just long enough to find her sister — then return to Lusse forever.

He shimmered into Lusse’s foyer this time, a small room separated from the rest of Lusse’s residence by sizzling sheets of power. He waited, knowing one of her guards would announce his unexpected arrival.

Within seconds he heard the tap-tap of her heels coming toward him. Lusse greeting him herself? She must be eager.

“Risk.” Lusse waved the wall of energy aside like a beaded curtain. “Do you have news?”

Lusse was lovely as always, her silver hair held up with diamond clips in the front and left to cascade down her silk blouse in the back. Today she was dressed for riding in leather pants and polished boots. She held a riding crop casually in one hand. “I was heading to the stables. Perhaps you’d like to tag along?” She smiled with no trace of anger or malice.

Risk returned her smile, his blood pounding in his veins. What game did she play now? “Of course.”

She stepped forward, the riding crop raised in front of her, and tapped him on his chest. “But you must change first. Can’t be strolling through the snow like that, can you?”

Risk glanced down. His chest and feet were still bare. He paid little attention to what he wore except to blend in the human world and when forced by Lusse.

“Bader,” she called.

The servant appeared beside her, clothing draped over one arm and a pair of fine leather shoes in his hands.

Without a glance at either of them, Risk stripped off his jeans and pulled the fresh garments on. Everything was of the most expensive design and material. Risk didn’t have to be a fashion expert to discern that. The shirt lay close to his skin, outlining the taper of his waist, and the pants were snug against his legs without confining his movement. For some reason, Lusse wanted him dressed like her equal instead of her chattel.

“Fabulous.” She ran her hand down his sleeve, squeezing the muscle underneath as she did. “You should always dress like this, Risk. Your fascination with that hideous woodsman garb, I just don’t understand.”

Risk endured her touch, refusing to respond to her gibe. After circling him once, studying him from all angles, she slipped her arm through his and waved aside a second wall of energy. “To the stables then, don’t you think?”

Resisting the impulse to tell her the silk trousers she’d chosen for him wouldn’t hold up for long in the snow that carpeted her dimension, he matched his step to hers and walked out into the biting cold.

Stark mountains shot up from the landscape to their left; to their right a small path wove through the trees, leading to the stables and kennels. As the leather sole of Risk’s shoe hit the glasslike pathway, foreboding shot through him.

The kennels.

“Did you not want a report?” he asked, his tone casual.

“Of course, but what’s the rush? I’m sure you’ve been keeping your word to me. Watching the witch — searching for her sister.” She patted his arm, only the slight narrowing of her eyes giving Risk any warning as to her true thoughts.

“There was a clue,” he commented.

The path curved revealing the stables and next to them the kennels.

“A clue?” She paused.

Snow fell over the tip of Risk’s shoe. He ignored it, instead turning so they faced the mountain backdrop. “Another witch was found — dead.”

Lusse frowned. “Drained?”

Risk hesitated. How much to tell her? But Kara was right, Lusse might know something that would help them find her sister. “No, burned. The human police thought she was the victim of lightning, but there was no entrance or exit point for the energy.”

She tapped her riding crop against her leg. “Did you sense magic?”

“Yes.”

Lusse lifted the crop to her chin and stared out over the vista.

Risk watched her, looking for a sign of her mood. Interrupting her could have painful consequences, both for him and anyone else who crossed her path tonight.

She turned to him, a calculating look in her eyes. “This may be good news — very good news indeed.”

“You have heard of such a thing?” he asked.

She slipped her arm back through his. “Magic is very complicated. Not every practitioner is as gifted as I.”

She paused.

Knowing the expected response, Risk replied, “None, Lusse. You are the most powerful witch of all time.”

She patted his arm, letting him know his response was on mark. “But others beside witches practice magic.”

Risk raised an eyebrow. “You mean like…?”

“The forandre, like you and your kind, possess a primitive magic that allows you to shift between your forms.”

A bland smile curved Risk’s lips. Lusse would kill to be able to harness the power to shift forms like hellhounds, garm and the other forandre. Of course, Lusse would kill for her morning cup of cocoa.

“The gods, of course, reek of magic.” Lusse’s nails scraped against Risk’s sleeve. “But…” She took a breath, exhaling slowly through her delicate nose. “What you’ve described makes me think we are dealing with an amateur, someone incapable of focusing her power unaided. Someone I can beat.” She laughed and patted his arm again.