Ice’s expression turns glacial. “Have you decided I am not your mate, then?”
“No. Don’t twist my words. I only meant that I’m not helpless.”
Bloody hell, he’ll continue to take everything I say as some sign of pending Renunciation until I speak it. And I should. Bram would be appalled that I’m hesitating. Why can’t I bring myself to say no?
Maybe because I know once I say those words and this danger passes, Ice will avoid me. Any contact we have in the future will be between minimal and nonexistent. The prospect disturbs me far more than it should.
And I can’t bear knowing that it will cause him pain for centuries.
“Ice.” I remove my hand from the wheel and lay it on his forearm. The muscles beneath my fingers are hard. He radiates heat through my palm, up my arm, and straight into my veins.
He pierces me with a fiery green gaze. “I don’t recommend touching me now.”
His words blast a dangerous heat low in my belly, flashing unbidden images—his large body covering mine, his mouth claiming every inch of me until I’m trembling and begging beneath him. The burn of his skin under my palm spreads through my body in a molten wave.
For prudence’s sake, I lift my hand away to grip the steering wheel again. Instantly, I feel cold without him. “Sorry.”
“I’m already fighting the instinct to take you in every way possible.”
“I’ve done nothing to arouse you.” In fact, I look so dirty and bedraggled today, I doubt even my siren abilities could make most men want me.
“You breathed.”
Then he turns to me, jaw clenched, eyes on fire.
Oh, my days. This road trip must end soon—before I run out of strength to resist and things between us take an irrevocable turn. “Ice…”
“Too honest?” He raises a brow at me. “Don’t worry. I won’t assault you.”
“I never thought you would. It’s just this whole situation is making me tense.”
In the back seat, Bram moans softly, a rare sound from him lately. I glance in the rearview mirror, but he’s still unconscious, face drawn with pain even in his unnatural sleep.
“I swiped a blanket from the cottage. It’s on the floor behind you,” Ice says, his voice gentler than before. “Want me to cover him?”
He would see to my brother’s comfort, despite their mutual hatred? That adds to the confusing tangle of emotions Ice stirs in me. “Please.”
Ice slams the last of his pastry in his mouth, then twists in his seat, his big body brushing mine as he tucks the quilt around Bram. The wizard’s musky scent envelops me. My pulse quickens. For a moment, he hovers against me, searing me with his body heat. I’m caught again between duty to my dying brother and the half mad wizard I should never want.
When he settles back in his seat, I can finally breathe easier. “Thank you.”
He gives me a curt nod, as if he’d rather I not mention the gesture.
“I’d feel better if we headed for MacKinnett’s estate,” I press, needing to focus on something practical. “It’s closer. And he’ll have plenty of ways to contact Duke and the others. There’s more civilization in the area for us to lose ourselves in until we’re all reunited.”
“Yes, and more civilization for the Anarki to blend into, as well,” Ice counters, tapping his fingers in a restless rhythm against his thigh. “We should go to Swansea. Stay there with the book. I will teleport to MacKinnett’s, warn him, then find Duke.”
“Do you know him?”
“No, but I’d like to believe that if one of the Doomsday Brethren arrived to tell him that Mathias is plotting to kill him, he wouldn’t be daft enough to ignore it.” A sardonic smile twists his lips. “Since the pisshead murdered his daughter, I’m guessing he’s one of the few on the Council who believes Mathias has returned?”
Ice hasn’t said anything funny, per se, but his blunt assessment and colorful description make me smile. Ice’s grin widens in return, and for a moment, we’re just two people sharing a dark joke, united against a common enemy.
“He’s old, not stupid. He believes, but Auropha’s murder made him paranoid,” I say, referring to the young witch Mathias killed his first night out of exile. “He won’t see anyone he doesn’t know. Since his daughter’s death, I’ve spent a great deal of time with the man, devising a way to convince the rest of the Council that Mathias is, indeed, back. But if you’ve never met him, you won’t step toe on his land, at least not peaceably.”
“I don’t care. I won’t put this Council prick’s safety above yours.”
I swallow back a rebuke and count to ten. Ice means well, but I have to make him see reason. “Without the Council, chaos will ensue—prime conditions for Mathias to overtake magickind. Then there would be no safe place anywhere.”
