So, what was she going to do?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE NEW DAWNING had begun so sweetly. Jorlan had awoken with Katie in his arms. Now he resented the fact that they had to leave the rented chamber to visit the psychic. He would prefer to coax her back into bed.
He stroked his throbbing erection. One day soon, they were going to make love.
She would say yes to his proposal. He knew it, felt it. After all, the woman wanted him as much as he wanted her, and they both hated the thought of the other with anyone else.
When she emerged from the bathroom, she would not look his way, and did not speak. He figured the truth about her feelings had frightened her, and he decided to give her time to accept it.
She had to accept it.
As he’d held her in his arms last night, he’d never wanted to let go. He needed more from her. More time, more everything.
He cleaned up and dressed, and they took off. At the new psychic’s abode, he finally, at long last discovered what he had been searching for since first awakening to Katie’s kiss. Magic.
Magic enveloped him the moment he stepped inside the shop. He paused a moment, breathing in the sweet, dew-kissed essence so like the air of his homeland. Yet, as he stood with the wondrous scent in his nostrils, he had trouble believing this much-anticipated moment was upon him. How long had he prayed for this? How long had he wished?
Too long.
Squaring his shoulders, he took in every detail. Beige carpet and walls. No frivolous knickknacks for sale. There was only a couch, ten chairs and a side table.
Several people loitered about, talking, but Jorlan paid them no heed. He was too intent on the lone man behind a built-in counter. Short, with thinning brown hair, eye spectacles and high bladelike cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass.
“This is it, isn’t it?” Katie asked, at his side. Those were the first words she’d spoken to him since emerging from the bathroom.
A weaker male might have viewed her silence a sign of pending rejection. Not Jorlan. Katie was a warrior woman. In the end, fear would not dissuade her.
“This is it,” she repeated, her tone laden with a strange pitch he couldn’t identify. “It feels different than the others.”
Her observation amazed him, considering she had no magic. She was not a child of the Druinn, nor did she possess the soul of the ancients. Yet she knew, just as he did, that true power crackled within these walls.
“’Tis the magic you feel.”
“The kind of magic able to take you home?”
“Aye. The vibration is very strong, the essence quite unique, and somehow familiar. Whomever this sorcerer is, he is very powerful.”
She darted her gaze around the room, lines of strain etching her features. Strain caused by what, though? “I’m happy for you, Jorlan. This is what you’ve waited for. You deserve to return home to your family, and live the life of your dreams. But…”
Foreboding swept him up, up and away. “Say it,” he commanded.
“I won’t be coming with you,” she whisper-croaked. “I’m sorry.”
Finally, an answer. Just not the one he’d expected. “Why reject me now?” he demanded, tasting sickness at the back of his throat. He imagined he felt cold, liquid stone coursing through his veins, the curse preparing to imprison him again. For eternity this time, with no hope of escape.
He forced himself to adopt a calm and rational manner. Because, whether Katie denied it or not, he was making progress with her, and he would continue to do so, even if he had to double—triple—his efforts.
“If I fall in love with you, I fall in love with you. I won’t fight it anymore, and I’ll deal with the emotional fallout when the time comes. I will keep you company every day, and sleep with you every night. But…”
He should rejoice. The foreboding sharpened, slashing at the calm facade. “Tell me.”
Peering down at her feet, she kicked at nothing. “When the time comes, you will go home, and I will stay here.”
Jorlan experienced a windfall of conflicting emotion. Furious elation. Happiness tinged with sadness. Confused understanding. She had just offered everything he’d ever wanted her to give. Love, sex and freedom. Yet, they weren’t enough. He needed more. All. Everything. Nothing less would do.
But why? Why push for more when he, too, had viewed their relationship as a temporary arrangement with an inevitable end?
Mayhap he would stay on Earth. Just until they tired of each other. Of course, that would mean postponing his blood vendetta against Percen and willingly abandoning his people. Were they being mistreated by the current great lord, whomever the male happened to be?
Guilt wound around his neck and squeezed. If Jorlan visited Imperia to find out, and the passage of time between worlds differed enough, he might return to Earth to find Katie had died of old age a century ago.
He swallowed. “Is it because of your brothers?”
“They are part of the reason, yes.”
“And the other reasons?” he grated, wishing he could just flip a switch and change her mind.
She flinched at his ragged tone. “My job and my independence. You told me women aren’t allowed to work or to go anywhere without a male escort.”
Both valid reasons, curse her!
Voice soft, she said, “Come on. The line has dwindled. Let’s see if we can score an appointment with the psychic.”
There was a tension-laden pause as he killed every protest to grace his tongue. He may have lost a battle, but he hadn’t lost the war. With a new plan of action, he could win this—win her.
Finally, his impatience got the message and quieted. They would finish this line of conversation at home.
Realization: he’d just referred to her house as his home.
Sweat trickled down his nape as he said, “Aye. Let’s.” He took her hand, noted a slight tremor in her grip and stepped to the counter, where a man waited.
“I welcome you,” the male said, beckoning them closer.
Chin up, shoulder back, he said, “I have come for—”
“I know why you are here. You seek passage elsewhere.”
“You are the psychic, then?” Katie asked.
“No. I am the assistant. Mon Graig is not here.” The man pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “I am unable to help you.”
Another duo of conflicting emotions. Dread wound around hope and squeezed. “Someone here can and will help me. I am not leaving until I speak with your boss.”
“There is no need to wait. If he desires to aid you, he will find you.”
Jorlan’s teeth gnashed. Would nothing go right this day?
Katie gave his fingers a comforting squeeze. “Where is this Mon Graig?”
“Here, there.” Glasses shrugged. “Everywhere and nowhere.”
Jorlan gripped the edge of the counter so tightly, he feared the bones of his knuckles would tear through his skin. “Where. Is. He?”
Now Glasses blanched. “Do you think you’re the only one who desires a trip home? Mon Graig has many dwellings throughout this world and takes many patrons through a vortex. Sometimes he is gone a few days, sometimes years, but no one, and I do mean no one knows exactly where he is at any given moment or when he will return.”
Exactly like the sorcerers of Imperia.