With a roll of her eyes, she said, “First of all, you’ll describe every sordid fantasy no matter what. You won’t be able to help yourself. Second, who says I’m not using the key? For your information, I like to maintain an escape pad from my legion of admirers.”
“Give me the key, save McCadden’s life, and I’ll cancel your debt to me.”
She jerked, panic seeping from her before she settled down, acting as if nothing odd had occurred.
“I’ll cease following you, you have my vow,” he told her, even as his instincts protested. Not see her again? Not protect her from other threats?
“Why would I ever part with such a dedicated stalker?” she asked, seeming sincere. “The more admirers the better, I always say.”
“Only moments ago, you claimed you wished to escape your legion of admirers,” he grated.
“So? I don’t have to be logical or consistent to be accurate.”
His molars nearly ground into powder. But his irritation didn’t last long. Why torture himself? Why not enjoy the truce while he could?
Sighing, Brochan swooped her into his arms. Without hesitation, she rested her head on his shoulder, settling in. The softness of her skin scrambled his brain as he carried her to the mouth of a large cave, teeming with sprigs of pink flowers.
“You may not have a key to Nevaeh,” she said, toying with his earlobe, “but you do have a ticket to paradise.”
The sky opened without warning and showered rain upon the oasis. Leaping and twirling to the center of the cave ledge as if it were her stage, Viola mesmerized him. Laughter spilled from her. The kind of laughter he hadn’t heard since his days in the uppermost level of the skies. Genuine and undiluted by sadness. This female enjoyed life in a way he never had.
“Why would you ever wish to leave this place?” she asked.
His chest cracked, and he lost his breath. “I seek a land without time, where McCadden will never grow old. I’ve yet to find one like Nevaeh.”
Viola pursed her lips. “Does he want to live forever?”
“Of course, he does.” What kind of foolish question was that? “I must get him into Nevaeh, Viola. He was only three years old when our parents deemed him tainted. They kicked him from our home, breaking his fragile heart. I was fifteen at the time. I moved out and took over his care, doing my best to provide everything he needed.” An action Brochan had never regretted.
The color drained from her cheeks, leaving her pallid. “I see.”
“Do you?”
“I do.” She flattened her hands over her stomach. “He is your beloved child.”
Perhaps she did see. Some of the tension loosened in his chest. “Yes. He is my child in every way that matters.” Brochan stalked past her, taking shelter inside the cave while keeping the goddess in his sights.
Raindrops continued sluicing down her lush curves, soaking her dress, reminding him of her shower.
His tension returned, worse than before. Brochan dropped his chin, laser-focused on his companion. “Give me the key, goddess.”
* * * *
The rain pitter-pattered, and Viola’s happy buzz faded. Brochan sure did know how to ruin a moment. He wouldn’t be too thrilled when he learned the truth about the nonexistent key. He might even feel as if he’d lost his only family yet again.
Inside, she cringed. As a mother, how could she hurt a father?
What if she found another way to save McCadden? She’d rescued Fluffy from the jaws of death using a literal piece of her heart. A pinch she’d severed from herself and wove into his—a spiritual process she’d learned from books.
If Viola shared a piece of herself with McCadden, she would need to feed him the same way she fed Fluffy. Her heart wasn’t a natural part of his, and it would drain, requiring charging.
“Give me what I want,” Brochan said. “I…I’m willing to partner with you to permanently neutralize the other Forsaken.”
“Wait. Hold up. In this so-called partnership, you get deliverance from your foes and a key?” Just not the one he assumed. “What do I get?” She plucked a flower and nestled its soft petals against her cheek before weaving the bloom into her hair.
“You receive deliverance from your foes as well. And freedom,” he grated. “Do you agree or not, goddess?”
“Not!” Giddy—ruthless—she peered at him over her shoulder. She’d won. Mostly. Kill the Forsaken, her enemies, and Brochan allowed her to feed Fluffy without interference? Done. “I demand a vow of eternal protection. Consider it a captivity tax. That’s my deal. Take it or leave it.”
His nostrils flared. “Sent Ones only bestow vows of eternal protection to their mates.”
“Good thing you aren’t a Sent One then. Although, there’s a slight chance I could be convinced to possibly consider pondering a long-term union with you.” Why not? If he were the one to pass her test…
A huff of irritation. “Stop pretending to desire me, Viola.”
Something about his tone and defensive posture unsettled her. She considered his display of vulnerability in the shower stall. How he’d flushed when they’d discussed lovemaking. How his previous partners had turned their heads, avoiding his kiss. Deflating his pride.
I can build his confidence.
When you can’t even build your own? The demon laughed at her.
She cringed as if the fiend had struck her. Rephrase. She wanted to build Brochan’s confidence. Since they were partners, she should try.
Yes. Aid him now, destroy him later. Good plan.
Viola jerked, then tried to hide the action by pretending to sniff another bloom. “Brochan, if you can’t tell when I’m being genuine or not, that’s on you. Now. If you’d like access to my key, you’ll give me one hour of devotion a day. At least.” Though he continued to deny it, he yearned for her as much as she yearned for him. He must. All he lacked was an excuse to give in.
Happy to oblige, darling. For the first time in a long time, a male intrigued her. Why not explore their connection while she had the chance?
Facing him fully, she said, “Do you agree, beast?”
A strangled sound left him. “You’re trying to manage me again.”
In part, yes. But she also kind of loved how this male made her feel, and she only wanted more. Still, she forced a shrug. “Let’s return to our old bargain, then. You stay away from me, and I tell you nothing.”
He ran his tongue over his straight, white teeth. “Nothing you do will change my opinion of you. And I won’t bed you.”
She offered her most cutting smile. “I don’t recall asking you to bed me.”
His nostrils flared. Okay, so her first efforts to boost his confidence had just crashed and burned. Not her fault. His.
“You think you’ll enjoy this,” he hissed at her. “I look forward to proving you wrong.”
Tipping an invisible hat to him, she said, “My very best to you, sir. Your efforts will end in failure, but at least you will have tried, right?”
He worked his jaw. To her surprise, he snapped, “I agree to your terms, goddess. Just know that I will detest every moment we’re together.”
Doubtful. She heard his crackle of anticipation. She even felt a change in the atmosphere. An electric charge of excitement.