even with herself. There was magic inside her, whether she wanted it or not. And she really didn’t.
Even being suspected of witchcraft was dangerous.
To actually be a witch was usually a death sentence.
Frowning at her own scattershot thoughts, Shea told herself that she’d do what Torin had said and would learn to control it. Just because she apparently carried magic within her didn’t mean she had to use it. She would stop the magic. She’d figure it all out. But she’d do it her way, on her time. She wasn’t going to trust anyone. Certainly not a man who could manifest the very flames she was terrified of.
On her own, she’d be safe.
It was the only way.
She smiled to herself, ducked beneath the overhanging branches of a jacaranda tree, lacy leaves tickling her skin. The soft slide of her shoes on the grass was the only sound except the ocean. Even that lonely dog had stopped howling. Maybe that was a good sign, she thought.
She was free. The danger was behind her and safety lay within reach.
A deep voice erupted from behind her. “Gotcha!”
Chapter 5
“Gone?” Torin narrowed his gaze on the housekeeper. Anna was practically vibrating with agitation. Her eyes kept shifting to avoid looking directly into his and she had her hands fisted so tightly at her waist that her knuckles were white.
To save time, Torin started for the staircase, wanting to see for himself that Shea was indeed missing. He heard Anna and Rune right behind him, but didn’t bother looking back. Instead, he merely growled, “What do you mean, she’s gone?”
“Just what I said. I know you told me that no one was to go in her room,” Anna said a little breathlessly as she hurried to keep up with him, “but I heard an odd noise and thought it best to check it out.”
“And . . .” He hit the top of the stairs, took a sharp left and stalked down the hall, gaze fixed on Shea’s open door.
“And, nothing,” the older woman said. “She wasn’t there.”
“Where in the name of the gods could she have gone?”
Rune’s viciously muttered question reverberated in Torin’s mind. Along with another one all his own. Why would she go? Foolish woman. She knew she was in danger. Hadn’t he just saved her from a mob only hours ago? Why would she risk running?
Had he pushed her too hard, too fast? Had he expected too much too soon? No, he told himself firmly. It had been aeons! How patient was he to be, damn the witch!
With those questions and more running through his thoughts, Torin walked into Shea’s room and opened up every sense he possessed. He closed his eyes, reaching out to her, trying to locate her as he had done through countless centuries. There was a bond between Eternal and Witch and no matter how tenuous those strings of attachment grew at times, they were never completely severed.
Unless . . .
He threw a look at Rune. “There’s nothing. I can’t feel her at all.”
“Then she’s been captured. They’ve probably got white gold on her to tamp down her power.”
White gold inhibited magical abilities. For Eternal and Witch alike. It was like a dampening field where power was muffled and connections were nearly impossible to maintain. Torin couldn’t use the very magic that bonded him and Shea to track her. Once that power was shut down, his link with her was if not shattered, then at least muted.
He walked to the balcony and stared out at the night and the world beyond his compound. Here he’d offered her safety. He’d offered her power and the mating that would usher them both from the dark past into a future unstained with old sins and bitter regrets.
And she’d fled from it.
“By the stars,” he muttered, “what was she thinking? Does she really trust herself to the compassion of humans?”
Rune came up beside him and clapped one hand on Torin’s shoulder in camaraderie. “You said yourself, she doesn’t remember. Doesn’t know yet who and what she is. Or what you are to her.”
Torin turned on him, fury bubbling like a black brew. “And I’m to be patient for how long? For centuries, we’ve waited. Now that the time’s come, I should have taken her the moment she entered this house. I thought to give her time to adjust. To accept that the mating would begin.” He pushed away from the balcony rail and shook back his long fall of black hair. “No, patience