The Warlock's Daughter by Jennifer Blake Read Free Book Online Page A

think isn't quite the same thing. I didn't want you to fall into my arms simply because I was suitable.”
    “What,” she said in trenchant inquiry, “made you so certain I was going to fall into your arms at all?”
    Exasperation shifted across his face. He thrust his fingers through the dark waves of his hair and clasped the back of his neck. “It was not a foregone conclusion, of course—but, as with royalty, the choice of our kind is not wide.”
    “Royalty,” she repeated, diverted momentarily by the comparison.
    He turned from her, walking to the window where he stood staring out at nothing. “You yourself pointed out to me one of the possible consequences of looking for a mate who is not as we are. “
    He was referring to the fate of her mother. “Yes, certainly. So it was all neatly arranged and our meeting set. I take it you had no expectation of becoming enamored, even if I developed affection for you.”
    “It wasn't necessary. The match seemed appropriate.”
    “How very convenient for you—a doting consort of the correct lineage.”
    “It didn't turn out that way,” he said, clenching his hand on the heavy draperies as he rested his forehead on the cool glass of the window. “I saw you, spoke to you, and was enchanted—more than that, entranced. The future seemed perfectly cloudless. At least for a few short minutes.”
    She considered what he had said while watching the portion of his set face that she could see from where she stood. “And what happened to change it?”
    A short laugh shook him. “I realized exactly who and what you are, how you think and feel and the depths of love you are capable of giving. And I was consumed by terror.”
    “I don't think I understand.” She had some small inkling, but could not bring herself to accept it without confirmation.
    “We have spoken of your origins, but not of mine,” he said without turning. “As it happens, both my mother and father have the power. You, on the other hand, are only—”
    “Only a warlock's daughter. A half-breed, you might say.”
    “It's possible that it matters.”
    “A case, I perceive, of correct lineage and royal protocol.” Her voice was constricted.
    “You know better!” he said in savage denial. He paused. When he spoke again, he was calm once more. “You should understand it perfectly, since you pointed out the problem. I saw it from your side earlier, and found it amusing. It never occurred to me to turn it around until just now when—”
    “When you took me in your arms.” She was growing used to finishing his sentences for him, and having her own finished. It was the one of the many consequences of over-acute perception.
    “In a manner of speaking,” he agreed with the wraith of a smile.
    “I am not like my mother,” she said, because it seemed that he might not go on.
    “No. And yet, how much difference is there? You were concerned enough for me when you thought that your strength might be a danger to me. You are a potent force, made more so by intelligence and imagination. But I know—without arrogance if you please—that my power can overcome yours. It has been proven.”
    “And because of that,” she said slowly, “you are afraid that you are a danger to me.”
    “The possibility exists. It is too dire to be ignored.”
    The tension between them had teeth and vibrancy. She said against it, “It could be given an ultimate test.”
    He turned with careful control. There was a sheen of perspiration across his forehead. “No.”
    “Don't you think your concern is excessive? You said yourself that a single night of love could hardly be fatal.”
    His laugh was mirthless. “I said a great many things, but—no.”
    “Why?” she asked, and let the single word stand as a bald demand.
    “I don't want or need the pain of something that must end so soon.”
    “It would pain you to end it?” she said softly.
    “Rather, such a temporary joining is useless to me. I prefer