I don't argue with him. I just breathe in the cold, praying for it to numb me on the inside. Praying for peace that never comes.

FOURTEEN.

It's hard to imagine that some part of me still believed Blake and I would work everything out. That Blake would realize he was too quick to blame me at the fire. That we would figure out what happened together. But there's no question that it's exactly what I've thought since the night he sent me away.

Yes, I was hurt by his lack of trust, but some part of me always believed he would come around. I was the worst kind of stupid, hanging on to the fantasy that Blake would learn to trust me. That what we had was real.

Now I question everything. Not just the night of the fire, but every night we were together. Did Blake ever really care about me, or was everything just a by-product of the supernatural bond we forged, an artificial connection based on the fact that we shared a soul? He'd stayed with me for a couple of months afterward, but he never let me get close. He didn't want to share his emotions with me again, so he hadn't. I heard him call me a witch to the other Sons, and then convince Rush Bruton that they should keep me around long enough to lead them to the other bandia. Now that the Sons no longer had a use for me, neither did Blake.

As soon as I get back to Lorcan, I change into breeches and boots and go down to the stable.

Malcolm grabs Panda's bridle, but I hold up my hand to stop him. "Not, Panda, Tally."

He starts to shake his head, but when he meets my gaze, he thinks better of it. He sets the bridle down and reaches for a larger bridle with a Pelham bit. "You're sure?"

I nod.

Malcolm saddles Tally wordlessly and hands me the reins.

Tally shies to the left when I mount, but I find my stirrups and stroke his neck until he stands still. When I squeeze my legs against his sides, he moves off into a strong trot. I can feel the tension he holds in the muscles of his back, like a spring ready to uncoil. He kicks out a hind leg as we approach the open field, nearly jarring me off balance. It takes all my concentration to keep Tally from breaking into a run. I stroke his neck again. "Easy, boy."

Alone on the trail, I try to make sense of my feelings. There are only mine now, so there's no confusion over what's really mine versus Blake's. Anger and betrayal mix together with grief and disappointment, forming a black hollow that starts in the center of my chest and spreads until I am nothing but an empty sh.e.l.l.

Once Tally steps onto the wide dirt road that crisscrosses the field, I lighten my grip on the reins. Tally explodes into a gallop without any urging. I stand in my stirrups and grab a handful of mane. He answers with a joyful buck, increasing his pace until he's moving at a dead run, head and back stretched out as he barrels down the road at full speed.

I couldn't stop him if I wanted to. The physical sensation of being out of control drowns out the swirl of dark feelings that roar inside of me. We run at this pace for nearly a mile before Tally's stride starts to shorten. I tighten my fingers on the reins and pull back gently on the bit until Tally comes down to a walk. His nostrils flare in time to his labored breaths.

I settle into the saddle, waiting for my heart to slow to a normal rate. I focus on every pulse as my blood pumps through me, each beat a reminder that I'm not completely broken.

As Tally walks closer to the edge of the bluff, the air gets thick with sea water. I breathe it in and imagine unleashing the power of the ocean on the Sons, letting it rain and rain and rain until the water rises to meet the earth and swallows them whole. A smile plays at my lips before I realize that black clouds are moving in from the west.

No.

Seven generations ago, my ancestor destroyed an entire village with fire after her heart was broken by one of the villagers. Danu is said to have created a famine when Killian rejected her. But I won't kill innocent people. I concentrate until the sky returns to a normal light gray.

There is only one person I want to hurt. And I know exactly how to hurt Blake. My revenge will be much more personal.

Fire with fire.

"Back already?" Liam stands at the top of the trail down to the beach, his long hair loose and blowing in the wind.

Tally stops and lifts his head without any prompting, his muscles tense.

I straighten my spine instinctively. "Enjoying your promotion?"

Liam's blink is the only indication I've caught him off guard. "Indeed. I thought I'd head into town. It's been some time since I've enjoyed the pleasures of human flesh."

I cringe at his words despite my best efforts. "Maybe you should change into something a bit more modern." He's still dressed in a plaid cloth, draped across his waist and chest.

"What do you suggest?" The bored look in Liam's face is mixed with something darker.

"You might want to start with pants."

Liam smiles, his beauty on full display. He disappears in a flash of bright white, and then reappears, dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a tailored b.u.t.ton down.

"So is there a Nordstom's in the spirit realm now?"

Liam ignores my comment. "Do you want to come meet your sister?"

"I don't have any sisters."

"Oh but you do." He crosses in front of Tally, heading toward the main drive. "Together you will defeat the Sons."

Tally shakes his head, sidestepping away.

The dread I'd felt on first meeting Liam is tempered. Liam is here to orchestrate an end to the Sons of Killian. We're more aligned than I first thought.

I am a bandia. Blake will pay for breaking my heart.

FIFTEEN.

I find Austin in an office in the west wing of the house. He sits at a giant wood desk that looks as old as the house itself, his attention absorbed in something on the monitor in front of him. He wears a pair of dark rimmed gla.s.ses that make him look almost human.

I hesitate in the doorway. He hasn't seen me. There's still time to turn back. I finger the skirt of my blue silk dress. The material is too thin in the cold air, transparent.

This was a stupid idea. I should go.

Austin looks up from the laptop. "This is a surprise." He takes in my dress and his eyes widen.

"I was just coming to see if you were going to join Mick and me for dinner." The slight quiver in my voice gives the lie away. This shouldn't be so hard. If Blake can kiss Portia in the middle of the street, I can kiss Austin. At least Austin will want me.

He takes the gla.s.ses off and sets them on the desk, flashing me his crooked smile. "I don't think you've given me a choice."

"We always have choices." Choices are all I have. Austin stands and takes a few steps toward me. "I don't know. I think I would follow you anywhere in that dress." "A choice." Blood rushes to my cheeks in spite of the cold. Not good. I don't want to feel anything. I just want to get this over with. I force myself to smile, stepping all the way into the office. The heavy door seals shut with a click that echoes in the large room. I stand up straighter.

"Or we could stay here."

Austin's eyes turn serious. "What are you doing, Brianna?"

He's not supposed to ask questions. He just needs to let me do this. I close the distance, standing just in front of him, close enough that I could fall into him if I leaned forward.

"Does it matter?" I brush my fingertips along his cheek and slide them down his neck until my hand rests on his shoulder.

His smile is wicked. "Doesn't it?" He covers my hand with his own.

I move a step closer, although there's barely room to do so, until our chests are nearly flush. His body heat contrasts sharply with the cold air, and I shudder.

He bends his head toward me. I lift my chin and close my eyes, waiting. But he doesn't kiss me.

I open my eyes. His lips are right there, less than an inch from mine. I lean closer, but he puts his other hand on my shoulder and holds me in place. He doesn't move away. If anything, he moves closer. His chest touches mine, so lightly that I might imagine it. I want him against me, but he holds me still.

I bring my free hand to his waist and let my fingers trail down his hip, savoring his swift intake of breath. His reaction is exactly what I'm after.

"Kiss me," I say.

His hand at my shoulder still keeps me from stretching up to him, but his head dips lower. I feel the heat of his breath against my mouth. I can almost taste him. "No," he whispers.

I push back against his shoulders with both hands, backing away from him. "What is your problem?" None of this is going the way it's supposed to. Austin wants me.

And G.o.d knows I need to feel wanted right now. "This is what you wanted."

Austin rubs his temple and closes his eyes. "Not like this."

"What?"

"Forgive my skepticism, but the last time you said you wanted to kiss me, you banished me to the underworld for a thousand years."

Oh yeah. But it's not like it worked. "You think I'm going to hurt you?"

His smile is almost sad. "You think you won't?" I told him I would find a way to hurt him, but the idea of hurting someone like Austin is absurd. He's not human.

At least he wasn't. "I'm giving you want you want." Austin shakes his head. "You're not."

We'll see about that. I reach for him, sliding my arms around his neck. His muscles tense against my palms, but he doesn't push me away. I drag my hand along his chest and lower, past the lean muscles of his stomach, until I feel the hard ridge behind his zipper. The proof of his desire. I lift my chin. "Liar."

He grabs my wrist, pulling my hand away. At the same time, he wraps his other arm around my waist and thrusts forward, pressing me against him. Every cell in my body stirs at once, tingling with antic.i.p.ation.

He pushes me backward, until we crash against his desk, sending his laptop smashing to the floor. He lifts me onto the desk, ignoring the clattering as his gla.s.ses fall. In one quick move he's over me, trapping me with his body.

His eyes are dark. Wild.

"Is this what you want? Like this?" His words are hot against my neck.

An electric thrill jolts me awake. For the first time since this afternoon, I'm warm. Alive. "Kiss me," I say again.

He brings his lips to the spot just below my ear, lightly brushing the sensitive skin on my neck. "No." His teeth graze the skin along my throat as his hips drive against the thin cloth of my skirt between my thighs.

I gasp.

"You like that?" His words are rough. Raw.

"Yes." My voice is a scratch, my body a riot of sensation. Every nerve burning. Every cell aching to be touched. I lift a leg around his hip, arching my back so I can feel more of him.

His breath comes harder as his hand works its way up my calf to the bare skin of my thigh. "Do you want me to make you forget him?"

"Yes," I say, though I barely remember who I'm supposed to be forgetting.

Austin lets out a strangled growl. His fingers tighten on my leg. Then he pushes himself off me and backs away. I prop myself up on my elbows. "What?"

His dark eyes follow the line of the strap of sleeve that hangs off my left shoulder. "You're using me."

"Does it matter?" I sit up, letting my legs hang from the front of the desk. I struggle to slow down my breath. He looks away. "As it happens, it does."

It doesn't make any sense. Austin has never cared about me. He wanted me for his army. He was willing to hurt me to make it happen. He wanted to be with me, but that's all. My legs wobble as I slide to my feet. I slip past Austin to the door, embarra.s.sed now that the moment has pa.s.sed.

Did I misread him? I don't know anything anymore. The thick wood door opens with a creak.

I feel Austin's gaze on my back. When I turn around, I catch him watching me. I don't imagine the desire in his eyes. He licks his lower lip.

I tighten my hand on the doork.n.o.b. "What do you want from me?"

He sighs, and for a second I think he's not going to say anything. Then his lips curve into a sad, crooked smile. "Everything, Brianna. I want everything."

SIXTEEN.

When I wander into the kitchen for breakfast, Austin is already seated at the giant wood table, sipping a cup of tea. He watches me warily, like he's not sure if I'm going to slap him or throw myself at him again.

There's nothing to worry about. I'm too exhausted to slap him and there is no way in h.e.l.l that I am ever going to try to kiss him again, even if my stomach tightens when I look at his lips. I take the seat across from him and grab an empty cup.

Austin thinks he wants everything from me, but he doesn't mean it. Not really. He wants an ideal, a fantasy who doesn't exist. This sad, angry girl is everything I am right now. I am heartbreak and vengeance. It's all I have room for.

Austin sets down his cup. "Have you been to Rome? It's lovely in summer."

"No." So we're not going to talk about what happened. Good. I don't need a second dose of humiliation. "If the Sons are here, it means we don't have much time."

"Then we fight. Isn't that the point?"

"The point is to keep you alive."

"Since when?"

His gaze is warm. "Since always."

I focus on the basket of m.u.f.fins in the center of the table, battling the fire that starts in the pit of my stomach and flows outward. "You can fight now that you're not immortal, right? You can't be banished to the underworld.

I'll find Sherri Milliken. We can beat them."

"It's too risky."

"This is what you wanted. I'll fight the Sons." I'll fight Blake. "What's the matter? Now that you can die, a war doesn't seem like such a great idea?"

"It's not just my immortality that I'm losing." The shakiness in his voice is what makes me look at him. His face is pale, drawn. What's happening to Austin? Mick hurries into the kitchen. "My lord, I tried to stop him, but he insisted on seeing you now." He looks back over his shoulder.

"Who?" Austin asks.

Before Mick can answer, Liam storms in behind him.

He's dressed in modern clothes, a pair of skinny jeans and fitted blue sweater. Looks like the spirit realm also has Urban Outfitters. Liam looks younger, but also out of place. He can't quite mask the otherworldly air in the way he holds his perfectly sculpted chin.