Conal lifted one foot and then the other, balancing with Sidhe grace as he pulled off first one shoe and then the other before tossing them across the room. Something fell to the floor and broke, but he didn’t even look around, too busy stripping down his pants. Then he was naked except for the shreds of shirt and Darkbane’s scabbard.

  Helena was tempted to remove Liam’s holster, but she didn’t want to take the time. And besides, she was feeling paranoid after the scene at Cornucopia.

  For a moment, Conal stood there, his eyes hot on hers, wearing only the scabbard and part of that shirt, all sculpted muscle in the morning city light streaming in through the wall of windows. Hs cock jutted from the muscled plane of his abdomen, and hunger rippled through her in a burning wave.

  He started to kneel, and Helena raised her hands, only to realize they were tipped in translucent claws. I’m way too close to shifting. So she touched him with exquisite care, drifting her fingers over the strong, warm planes of his body, unable to resist the temptation even as she worried about his reaction.

  Conal caught sight of her talons, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, his eyes met hers, seem to read her concern. “Fur or no fur, you’re nothing like those bastards. I could never think otherwise.” His mouth crashed down on hers, hot, wet silk, and one hand closed over her bare breasts. She must have taken her bra off, though she had no idea when.

  Their tongues circled, stroked and tasted. His mouth tasted of mint as he growled against hers in a deep rumble of arousal. His hand cupped her, thumb flicking back and forth over one aching nipple. Helena shivered as arousal pulsed through her blood in tidal waves. Conal’s hair fell across her arms as she cradled him, fingers held clear of his skin, her gums aching. Exploring with a tongue, Helena discovered her incisors had lengthened into fangs, and reminded herself not to bite.

  Conal’s mouth left hers, and he kissed his way down the line of her jaw and the curve of her neck, his thumb stroking back and forth across one painfully erect nipple. Hunger had her arching against him, and she heard herself whispering pleas. She’d hoped the mindless lust would be a little less intense since they’d made love. Guess not.

  His mouth closed over her nipple, and the wet heat of it made Helena cry out, her voice ragged. She wanted to give him the same delight, so she reached down and found that uncut cock. Stroking his straining length, she played with the velvet foreskin. Her thumb found the pearl of pre-come dewing its silken head. Smeared it. Helena raised the finger to her mouth and sucked, eyes shuttering at the hot taste.

  Conal’s focus shifted in time to see her, and his eyes burst into violet light. She felt the rise of his magic, so much stronger than before, Darkbane magnifying his power. The taste of his arousal sent hunger roaring through her, so savage Helena shook with it. “Let me taste you.”

  His free hand slid down between her thighs, found her pussy slick. “Only if I can taste you,” he purred.

  “Sixty-nine?” she gasped, fighting the need to writhe against his hand.

  Conal’s eyes glowed brighter. “Yeah,” he said raggedly. “But you’re not going to be able to do that for long.”

  Helena grinned -- and tried to ignore the way his eyes flickered at the sight of her fangs. “I’ll take that chance. Lie down. I want on top for this. I’m going to have my hands full -- among other things.”

  He laughed and dropped down on the couch beside her. Helena sat up, pausing to admire the sight of him. His shoulders were so wide, one of them overhung the couch edge, his skin pale against the charcoal leather. The gemstone on the pommel of Darkbane’s hilt burned, matching the Sidhe sigils marching down his cheek. Judging by the hot look on in his eyes, he approved of the sight of her every bit as much. “Get down here,” he growled.

  Helena’s ragged breathing caught at the stark command in Conal’s tone. Unfortunately, 69 meant she had to turn her back on that handsome face as she straddled his chest. She felt better about that the minute she caught sight of his gorgeous cock dancing over his belly. Helena leaned down, but before she could suck it into her mouth, powerful hands gripped her thighs and jerked her hips up and back. Conal’s mouth pressed against her cunt, and his tongue drew a blazing line from her clit all the way down over across her pussy lips.

  She gasped at the incredible sensation, every nerve in her pussy bursting into a sweet blaze of delight. “God, Conal!” His cock bounced, seemed to strain up at her with the intensity of his need, and the scent of his desire drowned her senses.

  Moaning, Helena slid her lips down over his cock. It filled her mouth deliciously as she let her tongue stroke his length, tasting him. All the while, his tongue flickered and danced, exploring her slick folds and swirling around her clit. Good God, the man knew how to eat a woman out. As he nibbled her, two long fingers slid into her pussy and found the bundle of nerves that was her G-spot with unerring accuracy to skate back and forth over it.

  The resulting explosion of pleasure made her jerk with a startled hum. He grunted, and she realized she’d nicked his shaft with her fangs. Helena pulled her mouth free to gasp, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

  “Shut up -- that doesn’t even qualify as a love bite,” he growled against her wet flesh, finger fucking her with mind blowing skill.

  She took him down again as deeply as she could, sliding her mouth over his cock, going for his balls. And quickly realized she wasn’t going to make it. It had been a while, and she was out of practice. Besides, he was a little bit too big for that particular game. Since there was nothing sexy about someone gagging on your cock, Helena drew back up his shaft and contented herself with swirling her tongue around him as she worked him with her hand. Sliding him deeper, she flicked her tongue back and forth over the underside of his foreskin, enjoying his rumble of pleasure. Seemed he was enjoying himself. God knew she was, as she fought to concentrate on suckling him despite the waves of blinding delight his tongue painted with every stroke over her clit.

  * * *

  God, it was hot, feeling Helena’s mouth engulfing him just clumsily enough to reveal she didn’t make a habit of it. Then there was the taste of her, the sight of her. The warm, dark skin so different from Siobhan’s, there was no danger of triggering a flashback. And oh God, that smell, as if someone had distilled the wild essence of sex, of arousal, of orgasm, and submerged his head in it. None of it was anything like Siobhan, abusive bitch that she’d been.

  Helena had made him so hot, it was all he could do to concentrate on giving her pleasure. Which was saying something from a man who’d learned to perform oral sex while being beaten with a barbed whip. The taste of her was maddening as the suction of her mouth on his cock forced him to use disciplines he hadn’t had to employ in years. Helena might not be as practiced as Siobhan, but what she lacked in centuries she made up for in enthusiasm and a sincere desire to please.

  As Conal played in her deliciously responsive pussy, he toyed with one sweetly taut nipple. Tugged until he could feel Helena vibrating with arousal against him. And then with no warning at all, she was gone.

  Conal grabbed for her instinctively, but she’d jumped up from the couch, whirled, and pounced on him again, bracing one knee on the couch beside his hip. Her eyes glowing bright gold with need, she bit her lip as she reached down to angle his cock upward.

  “Condom!” he managed, barely able to get the word out of his mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes glowing like moons, her lips lifting off dainty fangs. The lights are on, but nobody’s home, he realized.

  Reaching a hand down, he groped for her gun belt, which -- please, God -- should be lying on the floor by the couch. His fingers touched a familiar grip and hauled the pistol out of the holster. “Liam, we really need a condom!” he gasped, hoping the damn gun was listening.

  He thought he heard a deep male laugh. To his vast relief, an unwrapped rubber swirled into his free hand on a tingling wave of heat and magic. He fumbled the gun back into its holster, keenly aware of Helena watching him with glowing, avid eyes. She didn’t look inclined to patience. “Let me put it on, unless you want somebody to start calling you Mommy…”

  She blinked and rose off his deliciously trapped cock. Started to reach for the rubber…

  “Not with those claws,” he told her, and managed to slide it over his cock, then angle his erection up for her. Breath held, she sank down on him. Conal arched his spine and gasped as the slick tight heat engulfed him. The scent that rolled from her almost made him come all by itself.

  Bracing her hands on his belly, Helena began to ride, pumping up and down. He threw his head back, eyes widening as pleasure pulsed and gathered in his balls. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to hold off, not in her slick, tight grip.

  His pretty werewolf rode him hard, long, fast strokes. Conal could feel the feral Direkind magic gathering. Her eyes glittered as she lifted and fell, until suddenly she threw her head back in that sexy primal wail that blended wolf, warrior and woman.

  Slick inner muscles pulsed and gripped his shaft and shot him into climax. He did some howling himself. Fire boiled from his balls straight into his skull, and for a moment he saw nothing whatsoever except the dance of magic.

  Helena sank down on top of him at last, panting, and he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her hot weight against him. Neither said anything as they lay breathing hard in the silence. The feel of her in his arms was so soothing, so incredibly sweet, that Conal kissed the top of her head and let himself drift. He didn’t even feel his eyes slide shut.

  * * *

  The chain bit into his throat, half choking him as he buried his face against pale pink pussy. Blood rolled cold from the fiery wounds slicing across his back. Olwydd laughed and jerked the collar tight, half-pulling him off Siobhan. He gagged, darkness gathering at the edges of his vision.

  “You can do better than that, slut,” Siobhan purred, her body rolling under him as she swung the barbed whip almost lazily. Fire ignited against his shoulders. He’d have screamed if he’d had the breath…

  * * *

  “Conal!” Helena said, her voice sharp with alarm. “Conal, you’re dreaming!”

  His eyes snapped open, and he saw her. She stood a couple of feet from the couch, wearing an expression of alarm. Not again! He sat up with a jerk, scanning her for injuries. “Oh shit, did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing like that. You just cried out.”

  But Conal could feel the burn of Darkbane’s tattoo on his cheek. It was a good thing she’d been alert enough to wake him before things got out of hand the way they had last night. He fell back against the couch with a groan. “Sorry about that. I guess I drifted off.”

  She frowned. “You were shouting Siobhan’s name.”

  Conal winced. There was nothing a woman enjoyed more than hearing her lover call another woman’s name. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He scrubbed both hands over his face.

  She caught one wrist and pulled it down so she could meet his gaze. “Conal, it wasn’t exactly the kind of shout that makes a woman jealous. Want to talk about it?”

  No. But Helena deserved to know what she was getting into -- and exactly why Siobhan wanted a piece of him. “I guess I’d better.”

  Helena studied him thoughtfully. “You don’t have to.”

  “Yeah, I do. You deserve to know how I ended up in this mess.” He sighed and rose to gather his discarded clothing and get dressed. He felt naked enough as it was.

  She watched him a moment, then stood and began pulling on her own clothes. After a few moments of heavy silence broken only by the rustle of fabric, she said, “I have wondered about that. I know it got ugly, but… I never understood how you got involved with her to begin with.”

  Conal sighed and stopped, staring broodingly at one of his stepmother’s colorful abstracts -- a bright red spiral against a square of vibrant green. Helena moved over beside him and rested her chin on his shoulder. After a moment, he asked, “What do you know about the Morven Sidhe King, Ansgar?”

  “He was King Llyr Galatyn’s brother. And everybody who knew him hated his guts.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. My father was a Sidhe lord, Taran of Elidor. He led an assassination plot by a cabal of Morven Sidhe nobles who’d gotten sick of being methodically terrorized.”

  “Based on everything I’ve heard about Ansgar, can’t say I blame them. I gather they failed.” She caught his hand and led him back to the couch. Sighing, he sat down beside her, fingers curling around her long, tapered ones.

  “Yes, most of them were caught and executed with Ansgar’s trademark viciousness. I think a dragon was involved. But my father, his best friend Lord Ferrel, and a dozen of his co-conspirators escaped. They gated to Mortal Earth, planning to lay low and try again later. Later never came, because Ansgar spent the next 345 years sending his Royal Assassin after them. Gorin whittled down the band little by little. By the time I was born in 1898, there were only five left.”

  Helena’s brows lifted. “1898?”

  Conal shrugged. “I may be half human, but I got the family immortality.”

  “How old are your sisters?”

  “Thirty-five. Different mother, obviously. Mine was one of Dad’s mistresses, a prima ballerina named Mireille Benoit, who basically handed me over to him and lost interest. He’d been a pretty rich man by that point.”

  “Not hard to get rich when you can conjure all the gold or gemstones you want,” Helena observed.

  “Wasn’t that easy. They couldn’t use magic because Ansgar was watching for it. That’s how the king tracked down the rest of the band. They’d get careless with a spell, and Gorin and a dozen killers would be all over them. Eventually none of us used magic at all if we could avoid it, and when we did, we shielded it heavily.”

  “Sounds like an interesting childhood,” Helena said, in a dry tone that said she knew just how “interesting” it must have been.

  Conal snorted. “That’s putting it mildly. I spent the next seventy years trying to make sure my father didn’t get killed. There were a couple of World Wars in there -- we fought with the Allies. Taran loathed tyrants, and he and his people were warriors first, last and always.” He grinned. “Ferrel always said nothing relieves boredom like a cannonball flying past your head.”

  “Ferrel?”

  “My father’s second-in-command.” He hesitated, eying her for her reaction. The Morven Sidhe had a different attitude toward sex than humans. “And his lover. In some ways, he was as much my father as Taran.”

  To his relief, she didn’t turn a hair. “Where do the twins come into this?”

  “In 1978, my father fell in love with a sculptor named Hope Donovan. He always had a weak spot for artists.” Catching Helena’s blink, he explained, “Dad had more aliases than a serial killer. I took Hope’s name as a memorial. He and Hope married, though she considered Ferrel her husband, too. She got pregnant with the girls in ‘84.”

  He fell silent a moment, remembering his father’s happiness with his vivacious mortal wife, who’d loved Ferrel as much as he had. “It was a tricky birth, and my father had to use magic to save her. When the girls were three months old, Hope was having a gallery show. She was out supervising the hanging of her paintings when Ansgar sent Gorin to murder her in the middle of the fucking day. Cut her throat in front of forty people and just gated away.”

  “Jesus,” Helena murmured, looking sick.

  “We all felt her die, including my father and Ferrel. Dad remembered what Birk had said about Siobhan protecting us from Ansgar and decided to send me and the twins to her.”

  She frowned. “Why didn’t he and Ferrel go too?”

  Conal remembered the grief and fury on his father’s face, the black despair in Ferrel’s silver eyes. “Dad wanted revenge. He tried to send Ferrel off with us, but Fer wouldn’t leave him. And I didn’t want him to die alone.” He sighed and went back to pacing. “My father opened a gate, gave me the babies, and made me take an oath to protect them.” Conal clenched a fist, remembering his rage and helplessness. “I didn’t want to leave, but Ferrel told me I didn’t have enough magic to be anything but a liability. And I fucking knew he was right.”

  “Oh, God, Conal…” The pain in Helena’s eyes took his breath.

  “I was standing there in Siobhan’s palace, trying to convince her to protect the twins, when I felt Dad and Ferrel die.” His eyes closed as he remembered the agony of that moment. His mouth curled in a bitter smile. “Fortunately -- or unfortunately -- Siobhan liked the look of me.”

  “So you became her courtier.”

  “Something like that.” In the depths of his mind, Siobhan hissed, You can do better than that, slut. “It didn’t take me long to realize what kind of hell I’d stumbled into. Trouble was, I couldn’t take the kids and run because of Ansgar. I didn’t have the kind of power my father had, and the king had killed him anyway.”

  “Rough spot. Especially with two kids to protect.”

  “Three, counting Siobhan’s daughter, Iona.” Conal forced himself to meet her gaze and told the truth he’d never given voice. “So I whored. And I did a very, very good job of convincing Siobhan I loved her because I needed her protection for my sisters.”

  Helena went still.

  “Siobhan’s daughter, Iona, was five when we arrived at court, and she started hanging around with me and the twins. I think she saw me as a port in a storm. You’d expect the child of a Sidhe princess to be pampered, but you’d be wrong.” He shook his head. “Once I caught Olwydd with her. He was a thoroughly sadistic motherfucker of a troll -- think the Incredible Hulk crossed with Jeffrey Dahmer. There was no way I was going to let him lay a finger on that child.”

  Helena recoiled. “I’d damn well hope not.”

  “I ended up with six stab wounds and a broken arm, but by God, I got her away from the bastard.” He probably would have died, but Siobhan had healed his injuries.

  “How did you get Iona and the girls out?”

 

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