She blinked. Had he just read her mind?
“Yes, I did. But as spellcasters consider it a trespass, I shall try to refrain from doing so again. Wouldn’t want to get the River Prince in a tizzy.”
His fathomless black eyes crinkled, and though he didn’t outwardly grin, she knew he was laughing on the inside.
“River Prince?”
“Marcus,” he clarified. “Commander of the waters, bringer of life. He shall rule the south once he finds what he seeks.”
“And what would that be?”
“Marcus, glad you’re back,” Cadmus said loudly, interrupting the conversation. “Arim and Tessa were just getting acquainted.”
Arim turned his amusement towards Marcus, affording Tessa a chance to study him better. As she watched the dark-eyed sorcerer, she found it unnerving how much he reminded her of Marcus. Same piercing stare, same arrogant mannerisms, same aristocratic features and olive-hued skin. Incredibly, Arim stood a head taller than the Storm brothers. Yet it wasn’t his height so much as his presence that threatened.
“Arim,” Marcus said, breaking her introspection. She watched the two clench forearms in lieu of a handshake. Arim murmured about Darius and Samantha, presumably the missing brother and his wife.
She continued her perusal, staring at Marcus far more than she liked but unable to stop herself. Because she couldn’t stop staring at the blue-eyed jerk, she’d only half-heard his conversation when the word ‘affai’ perked her interest.
“What did you say?”
Arim looked over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you, Tessa. I was merely informing Marcus and his brothers about Darius and his affai, Samantha.”
Samantha had married Darius, that Tessa knew. So Samantha was his wife, his love. His affai? But Marcus had called Tessa his affai. After making love, he’d hugged her close and nuzzled her cheek, whispering lovely words in that foreign, lyrical language. Affai…what did it mean?
Sweetheart, probably. Then what did sertia mean? She desperately wanted to ask, but the unnerving stares from the Storm brothers made her hesitate.
“Something on your mind, Tessa?” Aerolus asked casually and glanced at Marcus, who stared at her with a hunger in his eyes. Too bad that hunger hadn’t precluded his obnoxious attitude earlier.
What the hell? If her question made him uncomfortable, so be it. She was already uncomfortable after nearly blasting his friend with God-knew whose powers. “As a matter of fact,” she began slowly, her eyes fixed on Marcus’ too-calm face. “I was wondering if you could translate a few words for me.” Alarm replaced Marcus’ composed demeanour.
“Ask away,” Arim answered with dancing eyes.
“What does sertia mean?”
“Sertia?” Cadmus repeated with surprise. “It’s a compliment. Roughly translated, it means ‘comely lover’.” A dimple appeared on his left cheek. “It’s usually used in context with a woman, a very sexy, thoroughly entrancing woman,” he murmured as he studied her with humoured, bedroom eyes.
Marcus frowned. “Relax, Cadmus,” he bit with disdain. “I swear you’re in heat.”
Aerolus coughed to hide his amusement but Arim seemed glued to the byplay, his attention on Marcus an almost tangible thing.
“Comely lover? I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.” She smiled sweetly as Marcus narrowed his eyes. “Then what does affai mean? Sweetcakes? Honeybunch?” she teased, hoping to put an end to her buzzing curiosity about the matter.
“It means bride of the Royal Four,” Aerolus said quietly.
“Which is what Samantha is to Darius,” Marcus added after a beat.
“But that’s what you called me,” she blurted, astounded by the translation. She could have kicked herself for saying so when four pairs of powerful eyes settled on her, one in shock, two in surprised amusement, and one in extreme satisfaction.
“So you say the River Prince is taken with the fiery-haired female?”
The wraith nodded, fear oozing out of its every last pore. ‘Sin Garu was not happy, and had no compunction taking his displeasure out on those undeserving. “Truly, lord. I managed a glimpse of the River Prince protecting the female during the fight before you called me back, else I’d have stayed to save the others.”
‘Sin Garu stroked his thin lower lip, idly creasing the red flesh with a long, sharpened nail. The wraith couldn’t stop staring in helpless fascination. Much like those they prayed upon, his master had the pure skin and perfect features of a powerful sorcerer.
Long, lustrous blond hair shone in the dim light of his chambers, vying for attention with the sparkling flame of candlelight in the corner. The wraith absently ran a claw over its lumpy skull.
“This is good news, Caeth,” Garu murmured. “Very good.” He smiled, a gift of sharp white teeth that put Caeth’s blackened grin to shame. “I can almost forgive your brethrens’ failed attempt on the first affai, the mate of that enraged fire breather.” He pursed his lips. “A waste of anger on that one. She looked quite tasty, but what’s done is done.”
He sighed and ran his hands over the marble tabletop upon which his attention was concentrated. Caeth, gauging his master’s mood, took a closer step and noted the vision swirling under his master’s gaze. A small sheet of murky water lay pooled on the tabletop. And every now and again, a hint of candlelight illuminated the image of a pale woman with lustrous red hair and bright blue eyes. Caeth thought she appeared tasty indeed, and salivated at the idea of biting into such tender flesh.
“Not until I’ve had my fill.” ‘Sin Garu read his thoughts easily, a soft note of apology making him seem a noble taskmaster, and not the evil feeder of souls Caeth knew him to be.
Again, Caeth was taken aback that a man so pure in looks and so calm in spirit could house such darkness. Never before had his kind encountered a man like ‘Sin Garu, and he still had trouble understanding exactly how the man had made his alliances.
Always hungry, wraiths categorized everything in terms of sustenance. One bite could paralyse their prey with pain, offering a tasty treat in terms of hot blood and bone, and the precious struggle to survive. Only the Djinn had the magical wherewithal to completely withstand a wraith bite. All other members of the sorcerer’s guild and non-gifted that lived in Tanselm fell prey to wraith toxins within mere moments of being bitten, survival dependent upon individual strength of the victim.
‘Sin Garu, however, had withstood several wraith bites and inflicted his own damage, ensuring he would be heard by the wraith king. Since then, wraiths were forced to abide his command. Four rulers in all, over a twenty-year period, had risen and fallen on ‘Sin Garu’s word.
Caeth stared with glowing worship. ‘Sin Garu had the beauty, the control and the power of a true dark leader. And since promoting Caeth to Liaison upon Mirego’s death a month earlier, the sorcerer could do no wrong in the wraith’s eyes.
‘Sin Garu turned from the table he watched and winked at Caeth. “I do love you so,” he promised and laid a gentle kiss on Caeth’s uneven forehead. “It’s as if you were created just for me.”
Caeth’s heartbeat jumped, and a new, altogether unpleasant hunger pestered. Sexual urges were uncomfortable and unwelcome, a ravenous desire that made the ache in his belly throb like an infection.
“That’s right, Caeth.” ‘Sin Garu laughed, a musical sound that made Caeth want to weep with joy. “You’ll soon sate your appetite. Find me our contact in the new world and bring the Djinn here to me with all haste. Our answers lie in the little schemer’s blood.”