Visions of Skyfire - By Regan Hastings Page 0,43

this?”

“Some of it,” he said, pausing long enough to bend down, sweep one hand through the bubbling water and then swipe it across his face. “Another Eternal, Finn, lives here when he’s in this country. I helped him dig out the bathtub and a couple of us carted in that bed and helped him set it up.”

“Where is he now?”

“Keeping an eye on his witch,” Rune told her. “She’s in the States and he’s waiting for her Awakening.”

“Like you did.”

“Yes.” His eyes flashed with hunger as he looked at her, and Teresa’s body responded instantly. As if he could sense her passion rising, his features tightened. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as seconds ticked past, ratcheting up the tension between them until she was surprised the very air wasn’t sparking with the electricity humming in the room. A long, slow breath slid from her lungs as she tried to get a grip on what was happening between them.

She didn’t know him. He didn’t know her.

And yet … there was an undeniable bond between them that was only growing stronger.

Which terrified her.

Teresa was willing to mate with him. Share the magic. Do their duty. But she didn’t want love. Didn’t want to risk her heart again or give another male—one even stronger than regular mortals—power over her.

How could she do what she must while withholding her heart?

Would it be possible to cast a spell over herself?

While these thoughts and others raced through her mind, her body continued to hum and pulse as if it remembered all too well being invaded by Rune’s huge body and couldn’t wait for it to happen again.

She shook her head to dislodge that notion and only then noticed Rune cupping one hand across his upper arm. That’s when she realized the gash on his arm hadn’t completely healed and that he must be in pain. She reached out to touch the wound and asked, “Can I help with that?”

The instant she touched him, heat dazzled them both. His gaze locked with hers, he whispered, “You can.”

She licked suddenly dry lips. “How?”

“Lay your hand on my arm,” he said, his voice soft enough that it was like a caress on her strained nerve endings.

She did what he asked, feeling the thick, sculpted muscles beneath his flesh, and then she shivered when he laid his own hand atop hers. Sensation flooded her, rocking her thoughts right out of her head and sending her body into a tailspin of need.

“Hold still,” he said as the fire within him flared into life, covering their joined hands in blistering heat that didn’t burn.

Fascinated, she watched actual fire move over her skin with feather-light strokes. They were joined, two pieces of the same whole, and for this one moment it felt … right. She didn’t wonder about it. Didn’t feel any apprehension or try to think about it logically. She didn’t expect any logic in this. There was no reason. There was only what she felt.

What they felt.

Moments passed, with the two of them locked together before the fire died away in a whisper of sound. Rune said, “It’s healed.”

He dropped his hand from hers and she stroked his arm, stunned that there wasn’t so much as a scar on his skin. Her fingertips moved down his arm, relishing the feel of his incredible strength.

“You keep touching me like that and we’re going to start the Mating right now, no matter how tired you are,” he warned.

She had been exhausted a few minutes ago, wanting only to sink into that incredible tub of heated water. Now her whole body felt as energized as the bolts of lightning she’d pulled from the sky. Now she wanted to sink into a different kind of heat.

Lifting her eyes to his, she asked, “Who’s tired?”

Chapter 25

“I diots!” Parnell muttered darkly as he marched down the middle of the village’s one dusty street. He had to force himself to keep from throwing out enough fire to burn this hellhole to the ground.

He’d missed them by an hour. One hour. And all because his informant had gotten greedy. Parnell’s gaze flicked to the old man lying in the dirt. “You’re lucky you’re already dead.”

When the old fool had recognized Teresa, he’d had his grandson call it in. He’d been told to leave the witch alone. To do nothing.

“But you just couldn’t stand that, could you?” No, Parnell told himself, humans were, at the core of it, greedy bastards. And the old man was no different than most—though

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