Iniquity (The Premonition, #5)(25)

His eyes glow with green fire. “Indeed, she is.”

“Did you see this opera when it opened?” I ask, taking a jab at his age.

He ignores it. “I’ll take ye ta see it. Ye’ll love it.” He holds me close in his arms. We begin to dance. One of his hands travels up my side, infusing me with the raw power of his energy as it goes. I gasp as the current flows under my skin. I bite down on my lip as pleasure-pain makes me breathe deep.

Brennus murmurs in my ear, “Bite down hard, it feels better.”

He’s right. I clench my teeth. He guides me around the room; we skip ahead at supernatural speed for a few moments. His energy spreads through me, first from my heart, through the roadmap of my veins, to places I never wanted Brennus to go. I gasp as my body involuntarily curls toward him like a flower to the sun, for the pleasure of it. He holds me close to him. His nose grazes the length of my neck. He breathes me in. I feel the roar and rush of my heartbeat. I’m his toy; his energy streams into me. He winds the invisible key in my back and the euphoria ratchets and coils inside of me: tick...tick...tick...

We slow to a human pace. He bends me in a dip; my back arches. I feel the heat of him. His hand holds my back while the other one traces over my side. I respond to his light touch; my skin becomes a magnet drawn to his. He straightens me again with a snap, pulling me close. His fingertips travel from the side of my breast to my back. Another wicked surge of energy flows from him into me. Pain. Pleasure. Bliss. My jaw unclenches as my lips part. I make a small, breathy sound as we dance.

Brennus responds with something close to a growl. “Ye’re killing me, mo chroí,” he murmurs. His hand moves down my back infusing me with a golden glow of power. My wings punch violently from me, tearing a hole in my day dress. My wings spread wide, like a red stain beyond my pale skin. I’m dancing now for the thrill of it. I follow his lead.

As the song comes to an end, Brennus kisses my throat. He whispers in my ear, “When ye get back, come find me, mo chroí. I’ve healed ye...now wake up and banjax whoever banished ye here...”





My eyes fly open and I sit up, finding myself in a bed. Energy is overpowering me and it’s all I can do to keep from bursting into flames. My hands and arms are glowing golden with power and I’m unaware of where I am until Xavier says my name.

I glance at the foot of my bed and realize I’m in my room in my old house. Xavier rises from the upholstered chair by the window with a vigilant look in his eyes.

I groan in pain, feeling like an overstuffed plush animal, the taut seams of which might tear open at any moment. Hoping not to be disemboweled by the energy inside me, I say urgently, “Open the window!”

Xavier stares at me like I’ve grown fangs. “What? Evie, how are y—”

“Now!” I cry, “Open it now!”

At supernatural speed, he moves from his chair and slides open the sash. As soon as he steps away from it, I let go of some of the energy that Brennus infused in me. It shines out of my pores in a concentrated, golden beam, hitting the snow-covered tree in the backyard. The snow melts instantly; the tree bursts into flames and is reduced to a pile of ash around a stump within seconds.

Now that I can control the remaining energy pulsing inside me, I turn my attention to Xavier. His hand is bare. “You’re not wearing your ring,” I observe.

He reaches for the pocket of his dark blue jeans that are slung low on his hips. I don’t give him a chance to slip his ring on. Using magic, I lift him off his feet and pin him to the ceiling of my room.

“Where’s Reed?” I demand. I can’t feel butterflies inside me. He isn’t near. “Did you hurt him?” My stomach aches at the thought that Xavier might have killed him.

“What would you do if I did?” There’s sadness in his eyes.

It feels like he used his nails to scratch my heart. “Did you?” I croak.

Another surge of magical energy from me presses him harder into the plaster. He pants in anger, “He’s alive—he’s with your father.” Xavier tries to move his arms, but they’re pinned to the ceiling.

Relief makes me feel weak. “And where’s that,” I probe.

He stubbornly closes his mouth. I retract the energy holding him up and let him drop a couple of feet before I thrust him back toward the ceiling again with it. The impact causes cracks to snake out in the plaster as it crumbles against the onslaught. Xavier grits his teeth.

“Where are they?” I repeat. He doesn’t say a word so I drop him again, farther this time, and then brutally slam him back to the ceiling. He hits it hard and scowls in pain. I have to force my next question from my lips. “Did you defeat him?”

Xavier’s smile is one of bitterness. “We stopped fighting when you fell. We both believed the whistle had killed you.”

I close my eyes and thank God before I manage to say, “You look like you’re surprised by what happened.”

He pauses and something enters his eyes. Fear. But it’s only there for a moment before it disappears. “It’s supposed to be a key, Evie, not a weapon. You have no idea what you looked like, do you? When I saw you on the ground, I expected to see your soul rise from you at any moment. You were bleeding from your eyes and your ears—I could hear your lungs filling—you were drowning in blood internally.”