Stealing Ula Read online

“He likes the company.” And with her two brothers living in the warrior’s quarters, it was only her.

  “He can do without you for a night.” Gerrit nuzzled her neck, but she stiffened and tried to pull away.

  “Gerrit,” she said, “I—”

  Gerrit was a large man with sandy hair, freckles and dark eyes that sloped downward, giving him a face that could look either soulful or stern. At the moment his expression was definitely stern—as if he had a right to scold her.

  “No more games, Ula.” He shook her like a naughty kitten.

  Anger sparked in her, but she bit back a retort, aware of the clan members around them.

  “I intend to mate-claim you,” Gerrit continued in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone nearby. “You know that, don’t you?”

  Ula’s cheeks flamed. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nisio do Rio striding from the great hall. He couldn’t have missed Gerrit’s heavy-handed wooing—and why did that bother her? But damn it, she was still humming from that vision of the two of them together.

  She twisted out of Gerrit’s grip. “Mate-claim?” she hissed. “The woman has to agree to a claim—and I haven’t.”

  He scowled. “Then why have you let me court you?”

  She chewed her lip, because she had led him on a bit. She hadn’t wanted to lose him as a friend—she didn’t have all that many that she could afford to toss one away. Around them, people were frowning—at her. Aunt Janette wasn’t the only one who thought Ula should be grateful for Gerrit’s courtship.

  “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly, “if I wasn’t clear, but—”

  He glanced around, finally aware they were drawing attention. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Fine. But don’t be expecting me to change my mind.” She turned and threaded her way through the crowd, aware of the murmurs of disapproval that followed in her wake.

  Her da had finished his dinner and was standing with a group of friends. Chas Gallagan was a classic Celt, with a compact, wiry build, a head of dark brown hair and a narrow mustache. Although only a few inches taller than Ula, the way he carried himself shouted alpha, even barefoot and dressed in a loose linen shirt and drawstring trousers like most of the other men.

  Her da glanced from her to Gerrit, and she caught a flash of disappointment. He’d hoped she’d take Gerrit as a mate. She gave him a wry shrug and slipped out of the great hall.

  As soon as she was out of sight, she halted and leaned against the wall. Goddess, she wished she could go right away. Start from scratch in a place where no one knew she was a Seer...

  It might be different if her Gift were more reliable, but when had her visions ever helped anyone? All they did was confuse things. If only she’d been trained to interpret her visions like other Seers. But with her mam dead, there was no one in the clan to train her—which left the fae. And although her da made sure to keep on the good side of the local sun fae clan, a fada would have to be desperate to ask a fae for a favor. It was anybody’s guess what they would demand in return.

  The one time Ula’s Sight had been dead right, she’d been unable to See the how and when of it—and her mam had died because of it. After that, people had started to avoid her. Seers might be respected, but they were also feared.

  “Ula’s too fae,” people said, which was not a compliment to a fada.

  So she’d learned to hide her Gift.

  She heard men’s voices coming toward her—Robbie and Gerrit. She darted into a narrow, little-used passageway that was a bolt-hole to one of the base’s exits. It was more like a tunnel, with barely enough room for two people to walk side-by-side. Ula hurried through its twists and turns until she was sure she’d lost the two men.

  She was about to turn back when she rounded a corner and saw Nisio do Rio, ten yards ahead. As she watched, he disappeared around a bend.

  She narrowed her eyes. What was he doing this far from the visitor’s quarters? If he wanted to leave the base, he could use the main entrance, which exited deep below the estuary or, if he wanted to stay dry, use the exit that led to the clan marina. This was a land exit, and so little-used it was guarded only by a ward—a ward that kept intruders out. If you were already inside, the ward did nothing to keep you in.

  She hurried after Nisio. Aye, the man made her insides hum, but that didn’t mean she trusted him.

  But he apparently knew the layout of the base as well as she did. She lost him within five minutes. She halted, hands on her hips, and looked around. She was almost to the exit, which led to the hills north of the river. To reach it, you had to climb three flights of stairs to the outside.

  She peered up the steps. It was dark here, the stairs lit by just a couple of blue fae lights. She inhaled slowly.

  There—Nisio’s wild, spicy scent. Ha—she had him now.

  She lifted her skirt with her hands and jogged up the winding staircase. A heavy oak door guarded the exit. She moved the bar, pulled open the door and peered into the darkness.

  Nothing. She walked outside. She was on a high, grassy hill a quarter-mile from the ocean. A light rain was falling, and a ghostly mist wafted over the wet grass. Above, dark clouds concealed the stars.

  Her eyes went night-glow, adjusting to the dim light. She peered around her, all senses working. She could smell the rain and the earthy scent of the grass, and beyond, the brackish water of the Shannon Estuary. But there was no sign of Nisio.

  She’d lost him.

  She re-entered the base. There was a brief tingle as she passed through the ward, but that was all. An intruder, of course, would slam up against the ward as if it were a brick wall.

  Ula pulled the door shut and headed back down the stairs, more sure than ever that Nisio was up to something. He must have realized she was following him—why else disappear like that?

  She rounded the corner to the last landing—and there on the bottom step was a large, black-haired man staring up at her.

  She jolted and pressed a hand to her pounding heart. “Bloody hell! You scared me.”

  Nisio’s silver eyes glinted in the shadows. “Did I?” he replied in his slow, careful English as he started up the stairs. “Then I must apologize, senhorita.”

  “That’s all right. It’s just you startled—”

  She halted as he stepped onto the landing and moved back so that she was against the stone wall.

  He set a hand on the wall next to her head. His shirt hung open and her eyes involuntarily dipped to the bare chest just inches away.

  Ula was used to seeing half-naked men. Water fada were adapted to cool temperatures. At home in their caverns, they dressed in minimal clothing and went barefoot.

  But holy blue seas, the man was beautiful: broad shouldered and heavily muscled with smooth olive skin. Her fingers itched to tangle themselves in the curly black hair dusting his chest.

  She swallowed and curled them into her palms.

  Nisio’s eyes darkened. “Ula.” Just her name, spoken in a husky voice that sent an answering vibration down her spine.

  She moistened her lips. “Nisio. I—” Her mind blanked.

  He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You search for me, perhaps?”

  “I was, aye.” She nodded vigorously. “I’m just after making sure everything is all right.” It was the truth, but not the whole truth.

  One black brow kicked up skeptically. “That is kind. But as I have told you, everything is fine. Your clan, it is most generous.”

  “Lovely—I’m happy to hear that.” She gave him a bright smile, and said, “Well, I guess I’ll be on my way,” and went to slip around him.

  He moved so that his body blocked hers. “I think not.”

  “What?” She froze, her back to the wall, and stared up at him. “And why not, I’d like to know?”

  He shifted closer. So close she could feel the heat of him all along her body. Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Slow, hard strokes that stole the air from her lungs.

  “You followed me, Ula. I want to know why. The truth, por favor.”

  She pressed her lips together. Unable to lie, because it would make her sick, and besides, he’d scent it anyway.

  “Nothing to say, hm?” He studied her from beneath lush black lashes that were almost too pretty for a man but were the perfect balance for his lean, hard face.

  She drew a shaky breath. She should stop this—demand he let her go. She was in her own clan’s base. He wouldn’t dare hurt her, not if he wanted to make it out of Ireland alive.

  But somehow she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She stared at him, caught by the heat in his expression and something in herself, something that ached for whatever he had to give her.

  “You’ve got it all wrong. I wasn’t—” She halted and shook her head.

  “Sim,” he murmured darkly. “If I were you, I would not speak that lie. It will only make you ill, não é?”

  She moved a shoulder.

  He stroked the sensitive underside of her jaw, then continued down to the vee of her bodice. “You are here to see to my needs, yes? What if I have need of you?”

  She shook her head helplessly. The vision flashed through her mind. This seemed inevitable, something that had been foretold. She reminded herself that she didn’t trust her visions, but Goddess, she ached for this one to be true.

  He slipped a finger under her bodice, teasing the top of her breast. She was panting now, unable to fill her lungs. Her nipples prickled, pushing against the thin blue-and-white cotton.

  Nisio’s gaze flicked down, taking in the hard points. He gripped her shoulders, muttered something harsh in Portuguese and brought his mouth to hers.

  Ula braced her hands against the wall, expecting a hard, punishing kiss. She knew this was
his way of teaching her a lesson for spying on him. But instead he halted, his mouth a hairsbreadth from hers and teased the seam of her lips with his tongue. Heat slid over her in sensuous rivulets. Her whole body went taut.

  His nostrils flared and she knew he scented her wanting. “Por favor, cara,” he murmured. “I want only a taste…”

  Something in her melted at his coaxing tone. She parted her lips and he slipped his tongue inside, tasting her in sweet, deliberate strokes until her head was spinning and her knees felt like jelly.

  He lifted his head and took a deep breath.

  She gulped. “Nisio?”

  He cupped her face. “Shh…”

  They stared at each other. This close, she could see his silver irises were rimmed with a darker gray, a container for the translucent shimmer of his eyes.

  Then his mouth took hers again. Deep, drugging kisses, one after another in an unbroken line that left her breathless. His body pinned her to the wall, his chest hard against her breasts, his erection hot against her belly even through the layers of clothing separating them.

  Ula forgot that she was a little afraid of him. She forgot that she didn’t quite trust him. She just wanted more.

  She twined her arms around his neck and kissed him back as hard as she could.

  His breath shuddered in. He lifted her higher so that his cock was hard against her mound, just where she wanted it. She wrapped one leg around his hip, trying to get even closer as he pressed kisses to her neck, her jaw, the sensitive skin behind her ear.

  “Deus, you’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “I want—” One big hand cupped her breast. Large fingers caressed her.

  She closed her eyes and arched into his touch. He set her back down so he could cup both her breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and she moaned. It had been so long…over a year since her last lover, and that had been a human in a village five miles upriver because other than Gerrit, no man in the clan was brave enough to take her on.

  Nisio’s mouth came back to hers. “Ah, querida,” he rasped against her lips. “I shouldn’t…”

  She blinked up at him. “Why not?”

  He just shook his head and released her. She pressed her palms against the hard stone behind her, dizzy and confused and so aroused she would’ve let him take her right there against the wall.

  Nisio’s chest heaved like a bellows. A very female part of her was glad she wasn’t the only one affected, but common sense was returning.

  She didn’t know about Nisio, but there were some very good reasons why she shouldn’t take him as a lover. Gerrit and Robbie would be furious, and even her da wouldn’t like it. And the rest of the clan would judge her for choosing a Douro fada over one of their own.

  But more than that, the man was up to no good. She was sure of that now.

  Nisio pinned her with a narrow silver gaze. “Who sent you—the alpha? Your brother?”

  He was back to that again? She scowled. “No one. I know you’re up to something, and I mean to find out what.”

  “Ah.” Nisio’s mouth quirked. “Then I consider myself warned.”

  She pressed her lips together and went to stalk past him, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her to a halt.

  His mouth came to her ear. “My Gift is that of the hunter,” he said in a soft voice that made the tiny hairs on her nape prickle. “You know what this means?”

  “I do,” she said without looking at him. If he was a hunter—and they were almost always men—then his senses were even better than hers. He was also closer to his animal, more feral, than the average fada. No one got on a hunter’s bad side without a very good reason.

  “Then hear this,” he said in that same soft, dangerous voice. “If you follow me again, I will know—and I will be very unhappy. I do not like the spies. You comprehend?”

  She angrily jerked her arm, trying to get away, but he controlled her easily. “Just try and touch me,” she shot back. “My da will put a dagger in your heart, guest or no. And if he doesn’t, Robbie will.”

  “They would, sim. But will you tell them?”

  She tightened her mouth. Because damn him, she wasn’t sure she would—not unless he did something really awful.

  She looked pointedly at her arm. “Let me go, do Rio. Now.”

  Their eyes met, and she was surprised to see a flash of regret in his. She was still taking that in when he released her and inclined his head.

  “Have a good evening, senhorita.”

  She grasped her skirts with both hands and took the last few steps in a flying leap. She felt Nisio’s gaze on her the whole way down the hall, watching until she turned the bend and was out of sight.

  3

  Nisio sank onto the bottom step, head in his hands.

  He’d known this job would be tricky, but he’d planned it down to the last detail. Considered every possible way it could go wrong—and what he could do in response.

  The only thing he hadn’t planned on was Ula Gallagan.

  He dragged in a breath. He felt hot, feverish. Her body had felt so right, soft and yielding, as he’d pressed her to the wall. Even now, he had the mother of all cock-stands.

  And she’d been as aroused as him. His mind had been calculating ways to make it happen, even as he knew it was useless.

  He wasn’t going to have Ula. Not now. Not ever.

  He growled and smacked the wall with his open palm. Because damn it, he was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. He had no choice but to go through with this job. Too many people were counting on the money he’d make—starting with the three men who’d accompanied him to Ireland. The men he had hiding in the hills of County Clare north of the base.

  If Nisio backed out now, he stood to lose more than the silver he’d already received as a down payment. King Sindre of the ice fae was one hard bastard. Nisio had a bad feeling that if he didn’t complete the job to the king’s satisfaction, he and his three men would disappear in the ocean somewhere between here and Portugal.

  Nisio’s jaw tightened. He should’ve never taken this cursed job, but Sindre’s silver had been too tempting. The Douro River Base was overcrowded, the clan struggling to feed their rapidly-growing population. Nisio was a natural dominant, but he was never going to succeed his alpha father, not with two older brothers just as dominant.

  Then a group of fada his own age had come to him and asked him to start his own den. It hadn’t taken much urging. He’d agreed on the condition that they saved enough money to make a fresh start somewhere else.

  Now he heaved himself to his feet and headed up the stairs. If he didn’t get moving, he was going to be late.

  This time when he slipped outside there was no one to see him. The night was dark and rainy. Perfect cover for a clandestine meeting.

  Nisio’s eyes went night-glow. He slipped over the wet grass toward the agreed-upon meeting place, a stand of trees on the next hill.

  He was nearly there when he heard voices coming toward him from the small fishing village north of the Shannon Base. It was a group of Shannon males, returning from a local pub by the scent of them. Nisio immediately veered toward the village. He couldn’t risk them following him.

  The four men hailed him as he passed by, and he nodded back. Most of the Shannon men knew him by sight now. He knew damn well they didn’t trust him any further than he’d trust one of them on Douro territory, but they pretended to, and that was enough. He wouldn’t be here much longer anyway.

  When they were out of sight, he slipped back out of the village. By the time he entered the trees, it was almost the appointed time. He wove his way through the shadows to the clearing where he’d agreed to meet King Sindre.

  The first thing he did was scan the area for traps. He wouldn’t put it past the king to double-cross him. But the area appeared clear, and there was no sign of silver, the telltale scent of a pureblood fae.

  Just to be sure, he went over the area a second time, then began pacing restlessly.

  When he’d first been contacted by the ice fae king, Nisio had wondered if it was a hoax. There were three main types of fae: sun fae, who took their energy from the sun; night fae, a race of energy suckers who thrived on an endless round of murder and intrigue and who drew energy from dark thoughts and passions; and ice fae, who took their energy from motion—the wind, the waves—and living things, if they were very powerful. An ice fae could literally freeze you in your tracks.