Sorry? He watched her, bemused, and allowed her to tug him from the rail.
“Let me look at your head. I can’t believe I hit you.”
She stood half a head shorter than him, yet she pushed him into the flimsy woven chair with ease, so stunned was he by her reaction to him. Women feared him. He demanded their fear! Yet this one dared treat him like an injured child.
Anger, and some dark emotion he didn’t want to acknowledge, had his muscles bunching to right this wrong, but his lucid mind stopped him cold. He must pretend to be human. A nice human, worthy of trust.
He forced himself to remain motionless. To submit. But when her fingers eased into his hair, his hands curled around the chair’s arms until he heard the crack of plastic and felt the sharp bits flake beneath his fingertips. He never let others get this close. Never.
“I’m sorry if I’m hurting you, but I’ve got to find the cut.”
She would find no bleeding gash, of course, but a human would let her look. And he must, as well, no matter how difficult.
He sat as still as the statues that dotted the human’s city, his senses finely tuned to the intriguing creature hovering over him. Her warm, spicy scent filled his nostrils, sliding through his body, sparking an awareness that surprised him. Her fiery braid drew his attention, the color as hypnotic and exciting as the deadly fire it resembled. His gaze followed the sensuous curve of braid across her shoulder and down to where it teased the tip of one well-mounded breast.
His senses swirled in sudden chaos. She stood too close, confusing him with her gentle touch and lack of fear, ambushing him with the unbidden and unwelcome stirring of desire. She was human. He tried to rise, to escape the assault to his senses, but she pressed him down with a perilously soft hand.
“Wait. I haven’t found anything. You’ve got to tell me where it hurts.”
He was about to assure her he felt no pain, to escape this tender assault, when his warrior’s mind reasserted itself, chastising him for allowing the woman to distract him from his mission, even for a moment. He must find out if she knew the Sitheen Larsen Vale. Or whether she was a Sitheen herself. A probe of her mind would tell him much.
He reached for her hand, slid his fingers over hers and nearly forgot what he was about. The sensual chaos focused, his every sense suddenly attuned to that meeting of flesh. Warmth flowed from her hand into his, a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of skin against the chilly air, and everything to do with the woman herself. A warmth that traveled up his arm and spread through his body in a flush of awareness that shifted the very foundations beneath his feet.
“Can you show me where it hurts?” the woman prodded.
Kaderil groaned. The woman muddled his mind.
“Here,” he said, moving her palm a mere hand’s breadth upward. “It hurts here.” He used the opportunity, the skin-to-skin contact, to probe her mind, but what flowed into his head was scarce and strangely garbled. Of no use whatsoever.
Kaderil frowned. The woman wasn’t Sitheen, for if she were, he wouldn’t be able to breach her mind at all. What, then, was blocking him from her thoughts?
The woman tugged her hand loose, her fingers burrowing tenderly through his hair in search of damage. “I don’t see anything.” She leaned to the side, her thick braid swinging free as she met his gaze. “Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should see a doctor.”
The intensity of the worry in those pleasing features made something pull oddly in his chest. “The pain has receded,” he said.
“Are you sure?”
She looked so unhappy, he was almost sorry he had no wounds to offer her.
“Yes.” More than sure. He was immortal. Even if she’d split his head open, the flesh would have quickly mended and she’d have found nothing.
“Good.” Relief flooded her eyes as she released him and stepped back. She shoved her hands into her jeans pockets, retreating into a charming shyness. “So…what can I do for you…other than clobber you in the head?”
His lips twitched. The desire to smile startled him. How long had it been since he’d felt such a need? He grunted with annoyance. He had no time for such foolishness.
Kaderil rose to his full height. “I’m looking for Larsen Vale.”
“Larsen’s not here.” The woman took a step back, but still no fear entered her eyes. A good thing, he had to remind himself. He needed humans not to fear him. Especially this human who apparently knew his prey.
“Are you a friend of hers?” she asked.
“No. I need to find her. She’s in danger.”
She cocked her head, exposing a long expanse of soft, delicate neck. “What do you mean?”
He swallowed the desire she drew so easily in him, needing to play this role with extreme care. “I’ve been having dreams about her. And a man with pure white skin who means to harm her.” He grimaced for effect. “I know that sounds crazy.”
“Not as crazy as you’d think.” Her brows lifted above sharp intelligent eyes, eyes that clearly understood the significance of his words. Either she’d seen Baleris herself, or knew of him and the Esri. A rarity, it seemed. Of the dozens of humans he’d touched, not one had heard the word Esri. Not one knew of the gates between the worlds.
“I need to talk to Larsen,” he said.
The fire-haired beauty hesitated. “Give me your phone number. I’ll have her get in touch with you.”
No, that was unacceptable. Not only was he awkward with the cell phone Ustanis acquired for him, but he had no time to await a phone call. In barely two weeks, the gate would open and his mission must be complete. This woman would help him whether she wished to or not.
He thrust out his hand. “I’m Kade Smith.”
The woman blinked, her gaze softening as she took his hand. “Autumn McGinn.”
As before, he felt an enticing warmth flow between them. His instincts warred between backing away and moving closer until he was in danger of falling into those soft gray eyes. With effort, he did neither.
Instead, holding her hand in his, he thrust thoughts into her head. Thoughts that would make her trust him. He watched her eyes cloud with a confusion that should not be there.
Instead of doing as the foreign thoughts bade her, she merely blinked. Other humans had taken his thoughts as if they were their own. Something was clearly interfering with his small power over her. But even as he debated his next move, she cocked her head.
“Why don’t you come…inside?”
It had worked. “I will.” Belatedly, he added, “Thank you.”
She turned and led him to the door, but as she reached for the handle, she stilled and looked down at her hand as if wondering what she was doing. Already his control over her was slipping. She turned to look up at him, confusion shadowing her eyes.
“I
