Darknight(34)

Before he said anything else, he ate some more of his own tart and washed it down with a swallow of champagne. “Believe it or not, we Wilcoxes don’t spend our days boiling babies and kicking puppies.”

His comment was so off-the-wall I just had to grin. “I didn’t really think you did.”

“Well, I just wanted to clear that up.”

All right, maybe there was no puppy-kicking or baby-boiling involved, but that didn’t mean the Wilcox clan didn’t engage in some bad juju if the situation warranted it. It was more like…we McAllisters set limits on our magic, both to be safe and to avoid inviting unwanted attention. Delving into the darker side of things had consequences we really didn’t want to face. The Wilcoxes didn’t seem to have the same concerns, although it did sound as if they didn’t want people scrutinizing their doings all too closely.

“I can’t excuse some of what we do,” he went on, appearing to correctly interpret my silence. “But we don’t all behave that way. In fact, most of us don’t.”

“So what do you do?” I asked. “I mean, if you’re not casting hexes or whatever.”

“We live our lives, same as you do. You’ll see, when you come with me tomorrow.”

“Come…with you?”

“To the party. There’s no reason you have to stay trapped in here any longer. That is, we’re….”

Well and truly bonded. I hadn’t even stopped to think about it, but it was true. Now that Connor and I had been together, his clan would see it as me throwing my lot in with theirs. I no longer needed to be a prisoner in this apartment. The strange thing was, I didn’t feel any different. Oh, I felt different in the way that most young women must feel after they’ve lost their virginity. I’d stepped over a threshold. I wasn’t a girl anymore.

Even with that, though, I still felt like me…which meant I was severely disinclined to do anything that would make life easier for the Wilcoxes, no matter how much I cared for Connor. And I had to admit it puzzled me, because according to what I’d heard from my aunt, the prima must bond with her consort on her home territory, so her powers might remain connected to her own clan.

Figure it out later, I told myself. At least for the moment, you haven’t turned into the Wilcox equivalent of a Stepford wife.

Anyway, I had more pressing things on my mind. “You want me to come to the potluck? That just feels…weird.”

“You’ll have to meet them sometime,” he said, his voice coaxing. “Really, they don’t bite.”

I recalled the avaricious gleam in Damon’s eyes when he’d looked down at me when I was helpless on that makeshift altar a few days ago and thought, Well, some of them, maybe. “Okay,” I replied, then asked, tone wary, “Will your brother be there?”

“Yes. It’s always held at his house. The primus and all that.”

Who knows what look of terror must have flashed in my eyes. Something that must have been fairly obvious, because at once Connor set down his plate and took my free hand in one of his. “It’ll be all right,” he said. “He knows you’re with me now. He’s not going to try anything.”

“But to go to his house — ”

“Where there’ll be tons of people. I swear it will be fine. Don’t you trust me?”

Maybe I shouldn’t. After all, I didn’t know Connor all that well…we’d been around each other for only four days. But it was the frightened part of me thinking that, the McAllister girl who’d been taught that all the Wilcoxes were pure evil. It sounded as if it might be a bit more complicated than what I’d been told. And somewhere deep inside I knew I could trust Connor. The bond between was too strong, golden and glowing and pure. I could tell he had no agenda here. He only wanted me to meet his family.

I stared into his face, taking in the deep green eyes with their heavy fringe of lashes, the longish nose and high cheekbones, the beautiful mouth and strong chin. It was a face I loved very much, and the spirit and soul behind it even more.

“Yes, Connor,” I said. “I trust you.”



* * *



We finished our champagne and dessert after that, growing drowsy and satisfied before the fire, with the Christmas tree glowing in the background. Sometime around one we deposited our empty plates and glasses in the kitchen and went back upstairs. Moving quietly and smoothly, in contrast to our frenzied coupling of earlier, we fell into bed together, pajamas falling in a heap on the floor as we pressed bare flesh against bare flesh, joining in a way that once again made me feel as if I no longer knew where he started and I began. And afterward we slept, twined in one another’s arms, breaths coming as one.