Read Online A Kiss of Shadows by Laurell K. Hamilton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laurell K. Hamilton
Tags: Fiction
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his arms, but I collapsed the rest of the way to the floor so that he couldnât lift me up. I wasnât fainting. I just didnât want to be picked up because I knew where heâd take me: to the bed. And if that was the center of all this power, I didnât want to go there, not yet.
âWait,â I said, âwait. Give a girl a second to catch her breath.â There was a small chest of drawers about waist high just inside the door. I used the edge of the chest of drawers to get to my feet, though Alistair was there to help, very solicitous. I set my purse on the edge of the chest, squeezing the handle twice to turn on the hidden camera. If the camera was on, it had a near perfect view of the bed.
He came up behind me, arms wrapping around me from behind, managing to pin my arms to my sides, but not hard. He meant it to be a hug. The fact that it panicked me wasnât his fault, not really. I tried to relax against his body, in the circle of his arms, but couldnât. The power was too thick, and I couldnât relax. The best I could do was not to pull away.
He nuzzled the side of my face, lips moving down my skin. âYouâre not wearing any base.â
âI donât need any.â I turned my head just enough to encourage him to continue kissing down my face to my neck. It was all the invitation he needed to work his way lower. His lips stopped at my shoulder, but his hands slid from my arms to encircle my waist. âGod, youâre a tiny thing. I can reach around you with my hands.â
I moved gently away from him toward the bed. My senses were dulling to the magic. Iâd had years of practice at ignoring amazing amounts of power. If youâre sensitive to such things and you donât want to go mad, you adapt. Magic can become like white noise, like the sounds of the city itself, only coming to your attention when you concentrate.
I stood on the bright Persian rug that surrounded the bed, just like Naomi had described it. But I couldnât force myself to walk those last few feet to the bed because I could feel the circle that lay under the rug like a great hand pushing me away. It was a circle of power, something to stand inside while you conjured, so that whatever you called wouldnât come inside and eat you, or so you could call something inside the circle and remain safely outside. I wouldnât know until I saw the runes which kind of circle it was, whether it was a shield or a prison. Even seeing the runes and the construction of the circle might not tell me. I knew sidhe witchery, but there are other kinds of power, other mystical languages to work magic with. I might not recognize any of it, and then there would be only one way to know what the circle was . . . by walking into it.
The real trouble was that some circles are constructed to hold fey captive, and once I was inside, I might have trouble getting back out. If they were really a bunch of fey wanna-bes, they probably wouldnât be trying to capture us, but you never know. If you love something hard enough but can never touch it or keep it, the love can curdle into a jealousy more destructive than any hate.
Alistair loosened his tie as he walked toward me, an anticipatory smile curling his lips. He was utterly arrogant, sure of himself and of me. It was so tempting to just walk out, just so I could watch that arrogance slide away. He hadnât done anything mystical yet, let alone illegal. Was I being too easy? Did he save the mystical stuff for the reluctant ones? Did I need to be more reluctant? Or more aggressive? Which would get Alistair Norton on tape doing something illegal? I was still trying to make up my mind whether to be the unwilling virgin or the eager whore when he was there in front of me, and I was out of time.
He bent down to kiss me, and I raised my head up to meet him, rising on tiptoe, hands balancing on his arms. His biceps flexed under my hands, swelling against
âWait,â I said, âwait. Give a girl a second to catch her breath.â There was a small chest of drawers about waist high just inside the door. I used the edge of the chest of drawers to get to my feet, though Alistair was there to help, very solicitous. I set my purse on the edge of the chest, squeezing the handle twice to turn on the hidden camera. If the camera was on, it had a near perfect view of the bed.
He came up behind me, arms wrapping around me from behind, managing to pin my arms to my sides, but not hard. He meant it to be a hug. The fact that it panicked me wasnât his fault, not really. I tried to relax against his body, in the circle of his arms, but couldnât. The power was too thick, and I couldnât relax. The best I could do was not to pull away.
He nuzzled the side of my face, lips moving down my skin. âYouâre not wearing any base.â
âI donât need any.â I turned my head just enough to encourage him to continue kissing down my face to my neck. It was all the invitation he needed to work his way lower. His lips stopped at my shoulder, but his hands slid from my arms to encircle my waist. âGod, youâre a tiny thing. I can reach around you with my hands.â
I moved gently away from him toward the bed. My senses were dulling to the magic. Iâd had years of practice at ignoring amazing amounts of power. If youâre sensitive to such things and you donât want to go mad, you adapt. Magic can become like white noise, like the sounds of the city itself, only coming to your attention when you concentrate.
I stood on the bright Persian rug that surrounded the bed, just like Naomi had described it. But I couldnât force myself to walk those last few feet to the bed because I could feel the circle that lay under the rug like a great hand pushing me away. It was a circle of power, something to stand inside while you conjured, so that whatever you called wouldnât come inside and eat you, or so you could call something inside the circle and remain safely outside. I wouldnât know until I saw the runes which kind of circle it was, whether it was a shield or a prison. Even seeing the runes and the construction of the circle might not tell me. I knew sidhe witchery, but there are other kinds of power, other mystical languages to work magic with. I might not recognize any of it, and then there would be only one way to know what the circle was . . . by walking into it.
The real trouble was that some circles are constructed to hold fey captive, and once I was inside, I might have trouble getting back out. If they were really a bunch of fey wanna-bes, they probably wouldnât be trying to capture us, but you never know. If you love something hard enough but can never touch it or keep it, the love can curdle into a jealousy more destructive than any hate.
Alistair loosened his tie as he walked toward me, an anticipatory smile curling his lips. He was utterly arrogant, sure of himself and of me. It was so tempting to just walk out, just so I could watch that arrogance slide away. He hadnât done anything mystical yet, let alone illegal. Was I being too easy? Did he save the mystical stuff for the reluctant ones? Did I need to be more reluctant? Or more aggressive? Which would get Alistair Norton on tape doing something illegal? I was still trying to make up my mind whether to be the unwilling virgin or the eager whore when he was there in front of me, and I was out of time.
He bent down to kiss me, and I raised my head up to meet him, rising on tiptoe, hands balancing on his arms. His biceps flexed under my hands, swelling against
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