Spent, he tugged her down to his chest and cradled her. He stroked the long line of her back as his eyes drifted shut, more content then he could ever remember being in his life.

Maeve shifted, chasing the weak sunlight that illuminated the worn, handwritten pages she was reading.

Items needed: Cauldron Paper White Candle Quill and Ink Wild Sage She grinned. She didn't have a quill and ink, only a ballpoint. She presumed it would suffice. For that matter, she glanced at the battered cooking pot on the desk with the other items; she didn't have a proper cauldron. Same difference, she hoped.

On the paper, write your heart's desire.

She set the book aside and picked up the pen and wrote in bold strokes.

Send me the means by which to learn the binding spell.

With trembling hands, she folded the paper in half. All will be well, it had to be. She set the paper on the blotter and picked up the book once more, setting it in her lap.

Sprinkle the sage into the cauldron and light the candle before you repeat this incantation. As you speak, set fire to the paper and place it in the caldron.

She picked up the matches and lit the candle. The flame flickered as she exhaled before it steadied once more. Tension crept along the back of her neck as she picked up the paper. Her hand trembled as she recited the words.

"Charge this place with candlelight."

She lit the paper.

"For I must do what is right.

"What I need is knowledge gained, "For my power must not wane - "I need a keeper of the A' bhais Cadail, "In this quest, I must not fail.

"For all my life this knowledge will reside with me."

She dropped the paper into the pot. "This is my will, so mote it be!"

Maeve watched as the paper burned with little smoke, the flame a pure blue tipped with gold. It licked at the paper, scorching before engulfing. One moment, the paper was there, the next only the scent of charred paper and wild sage remained. Curious, she sat straighter and looked in the small cooking pot, noticing it was completely clean.

How could that be? Did this mean it worked? She hoped the magic would work for her, time was running out.

She closed the spell book and slipped it into a lower drawer where it would be safe from prying eyes.

Gathering her tools, she tucked the pot into the drawer next to the book before shutting it.

She retrieved the chronicle on killing a vampire. She wanted to reread the text one more time in case she'd missed something.

Magic - a spell known as a binding spell can immobilize a vampire. Be warned, while there are several types of binding spells, only theA' bhais Cadailspell will work on an elder. TheA' bhais Cadailis handed down generation by generation through only a few lines of witches and the knowledge is held sacred. The lineage is of the utmost importance and only a witch ofpure lineage and intention can wield the spell. Should the intention of the witch be of a dark nature, chaos will be the result.

A frown formed. Should she have included pure intention in her spell? She continued reading.

The purpose of the spell is to incapacitate the vampire by putting them in a hypnotic state, rendering them unable to strike physically or mentally. At this point, it is recommended the vampire be beheaded and incinerated-the body independently from the head. The ashes should then be disposed of in separate places, many miles apart-burial or scattering of the ashes is acceptable.

Should the vampire be of an extreme age, the ashes should be dumped in the sea where they will be lost for all eternity. Should they be buried, there is a chance that even a single drop of blood could rejuvenate some part of the vampire's soul.

Fascinating.

A vampire can be rejuvenated even after he'd been burned to ashes? She wrinkled her nose. It looked like a beheading was in her future. It was bound to be messy.

"What are you reading?"

Quinn's voice interrupted her musing. Steeling herself, she lifted her head to watch him walk toward her.

Dressed in worn jeans and a black thermal shirt, he was devastatingly handsome. Images of those hands on her body flooded her mind, causing her breathing to quicken. Never had she experienced such a heated reaction to a man. Less than two hours had pa.s.sed since she'd left him napping in the gym and already she wanted him again.

"These books represent Sinjin's life's work." She waved her hand at the volumes shelved behind her.

"They're the chronicles of the Shadow Dwellers." "Is that so?" He towered over her chair before leaning down. Capturing her chin, he kissed her. A devastating kiss filled with possession and promise. She leaned into his mouth, wanting more of his particular brand of magic.

With a murmur, he broke the kiss. Leaning back against the desk, he crossed his legs and studied her.

Whatever he saw in her expression must have satisfied him as a smile curved his mouth. He looked away to study the shelves.

Hot and fl.u.s.tered, she licked her lips, groaning inwardly as the lingering taste of him teased her senses.

This man should be illegal in at least forty-eight of the fifty states.

"Wow."

She blinked, wondering if he'd read her mind. Instead, she saw he was impressed with the sheer number and size of the volumes that filled the shelves. Knowledge filled each book and, from the look on his face, Quinn wanted to dive into them as much as she did.

She smiled. So they did have something in common besides an uncommon hunger for each other. "It's a heady thought, isn't it? All that information, ripe for the plucking."

"How many have you read?"

"Barely enough to scratch the surface. Sinjin's funny about people reading them."

He nodded as if he well understood the value of secrets. "It's pretty chilly in here." He motioned to the broken window frame. "Do you want me to fix the door?"

"Oh, well, yeah-I guess so." She glanced at the sheet of plywood and supplies she'd left by the jagged opening. "I meant to get to that, but I sat down to read instead."

He grinned. "That's understandable." Dropping a quick kiss on her mouth, he walked to the window and inspected the shattered gla.s.s. After locating a trashcan, he hefted a hammer. Tapping at a section of the broken gla.s.s, he removed the larger pieces and dropped them into the can. He tucked the handle of the hammer into his belt with a movement that proclaimed familiarity with tools.

A man who loves books and knows his way around tools. Quinn was definitely a catch. If he could cook and change the oil, all bets were off.

Except you have to throw him back.

Disturbed, Maeve stuck a piece of paper in the book she was reading and closed it. True, she would have to throw him back. A man like him deserved a better woman than one with revenge on her mind.

She set her book on the desk. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Sure." He reached for a large section of dangling gla.s.s.

"I've heard stories about Mortianna's powers."

"Mmm. Most of them are probably true." Crash. Another piece met its brethren in the trashcan. "I think she enjoys the notoriety. However," he gave her a hooded look. "That isn't a question." "You're impatient."

His look turned to heat, and she struggled to not squirm in her chair. She remembered all too well which one of them had been impatient in the gym earlier. Her cheeks warmed with the memory before she shoved it away. "Is she the most powerful witch in the world?"

He shrugged. "Possibly. It isn't as if powers can be measured in distance or size. I think the a.s.sumption is that, because Mortianna is the oldest, she must be the most powerful. That may or may not be true. I'd hazard a guess there are a few who could hold their own with her."

"Is being a witch something you're born to or taught?"

"In my case, a little of both. I was born of two very powerful witches, so it's a given I'd have some powers." He chuckled. "My father said he knew I'd inherited some of his powers when he found me levitating four feet above my cradle. I was seven months old."

She grinned at the mental image of a baby floating over his cradle. "That must have been a shock to your parents."

"Just my father. We were alone by then."

Maeve paused. She'd never considered this. "You weren't raised by your mother?"

"No."

She bit her lip. If he wasn't raised by Mortianna, would he still know the spell? "But you were raised as a witch?"

"Yes." He dropped another piece of gla.s.s into the bin before pinning her with his gaze. "Why all the questions?"

She feigned a shrug. "I've never met a witch before. I'm curious."

His gaze turned a.s.sessing as she struggled to look unconcerned.

"I was raised a witch and I've always known my heritage," he said.

"How does one learn spells?"

"There are several ways. Most family lines have a Grimoire, which is commonly referred to as a book of shadows. It outlines spells and incantations. Others learn verbally. Many spells are never written down and they can only be learned by word of mouth."

"Like theA' bhais Cadail ?"

Quinn faltered, a shard of gla.s.s wavering before he dropped it into the can. "That's one of many binding spells and one of the oldest. It's never been recorded that I know of."

She fought the urge to leap from her chair and pace. Getting information out of him was like pulling teeth, difficult and frustrating. "Were you taught this spell?" He dropped the last piece of gla.s.s before facing her, tension radiating from every inch of his body. "Why do you want to know?"

"I was reading in this book that the safest way to kill an elder vampire is to use this spell. I'd never heard of it and I wondered if it was common knowledge." She cringed inwardly at the out-and-out lie.

Normally, she considered herself an upfront and honest person. Lying didn't come naturally.

"No, theA' bhais Cadail isn't common knowledge simply because it's too powerful for most witches.

The use of this spell on any living creature would render it unable to defend itself. It would be helpless."

She could scarcely conceal her relief. The book was right. She needed that spell to bring down Mikhail and redeem herself. "And you know it?"

"Yes." He picked up the sheet of plywood and held it over the hole in the window, measuring with his eyes. "What you and many others fail to realize is that witchcraft is more than bad poetry, wicked old hags and eye of newt. It's a religion, a way of life, and it isn't to be taken lightly."

Behind him, the sun was setting into the sea, turning his hair to golden fire while giving the illusion of a halo. He resembled an angel and her conscience gave a twinge. Could she betray this man who'd been nothing but kind in order to achieve her own redemption? Dare she tell him the truth?

Can you live with yourself if you continue to deceive him?

She took a deep breath. "Quinn-"

A tremendous crash came from the main hall causing her to jump. Quinn spun around, dropped the plywood and ran out the door. She leapt from the chair and followed close on his heels.

In a dim corner of the hall, Sunni stood by a shattered vase, an expression of horror etched on her elfin features. "Something's wrong with Sinjin."

Chapter 7.

Val climbed out of his SUV and stretched his legs, stiff from the long and tedious drive from Guildford.

He'd been unable to secure air transportation due to the haste required. Maeve's frantic summons had come out of the blue, and he'd had little time to plan, only act.

He walked around the car and opened the tailgate to reveal a large leather sheet covering something b.u.mpy. It stirred. He reached toward a hump he thought might be a knee and shook it.

"Wake up, my love. The sun has set and it's time for all the good little vampires to come out and play."

A throaty moan rose from under the covers.

Val tugged on the leather, pulling it off to reveal his soul mate. Shai lay on a white silk duvet, her hair a ma.s.s of tangled red curls. Dressed in a tight, black velvet bodysuit with matching slippers, she looked likesin incarnate. Her leather jacket lay discarded beside her.

"Wake up, darling-"

Suddenly, unease p.r.i.c.kled along the back of his neck and he raised his head. Something was watching them. Shadows cloaked the landscape surrounding Sinjin's remote home, but something lurked in the dark. He zeroed in on the forest lining the west edge of the property. Shadows moved within the trees and he caught a glimpse of beady red eyes staring in his direction. There were at least thirty of the little creatures.

Minions.

Why would Mortianna's army be so far afield?

"What is it?" Shai slipped from the back of the truck, her expression alert. Pulling on her jacket, she caught sight of the minions circling around the trees. "What are they doing here?"

"I have no idea. They don't normally leave her side unless she bids them." He pulled Shai away from the door and grabbed a black leather bag. Slamming the door shut, he took her hand. "Let's get inside and see what's going on."

Lacing his fingers through hers, he led the way to the front door, then stopped dead in his tracks. In the center of the walk, a sword lay pointing at them. On either side of the walk was a narrow white line in the gra.s.s that vanished on either side of the house.

"It's a salt circle. A witch is here."

"A witch? Could it be Mortianna?"

Val shook his head. "I doubt it. It's not her style. She'd more than likely use fire-breathing dragons. A salt circle isn't dramatic enough for her."

Shai held up her hand, feeling the air with her palm. "We can't enter."