Inked

for certain. Her eyes were pale silver ringed by a black halo, and her pupils the darkest jet I’d ever seen.
    A wave of magic rolled off her that almost knocked me down. This was no witch or sorceress. No, she was magic incarnate. I stared at her for a moment. Was she a goddess? An Immortal?
    “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are. I wasn’t searching for you—just…for anybody who could help me, I guess.”
    She circled me with a dispassionate gaze. “I am the Lady of the Mists and you have entered my realm.”
    The Lady of the Mists …cripes! I was facing an Elemental Lord. Queen. Whatever you called her, she was one of the true Immortals. And—like all of them—she existed outside the realm of mortal and Fae affairs. I immediately fell into a deep curtsy.
    The Lady of the Mists gazed down at me, and I felt her hand touch the top of my head. “Stand, Moon witch. What are you doing in my realm? This is not your time of the month to run with the Hunt.”
    “I’m lost,” I said. “I was dragged over to the astral by a murderer whom I was hunting. He meant to kill me, but I managed to get away.” I held up the iron handcuffs. “I tried to catch him, but he surprised me. I had no idea he could shift through the realms.”
    She glanced at the handcuffs and grimaced. “Iron? You carry iron?”
    “I do what I need to in order to fulfill my duties. Can you help me?” I wondered if the Elemental Lords were affected by iron like the Fae. But she merely brushed them away.
    “Help you how? To catch him, or to return to your world?”
    By the way she said it, I had the feeling she could do either. But it was dangerous to ask for favors from the Immortals—far more dangerous than even the gods. The Elemental Lords were capricious. Death to them was simply a blink of an eye.
    “Can you tell me how to get home?” I asked, not even wanting to request that much, but I didn’t have much choice. Of course, I could wait here until the full moon, at which point the Hunt would sweep me up, but that seemed ridiculous and even worse—would allow Roche to escape.
    She tilted my chin up and her hand felt like a gentle breeze kissing my skin. “I can help you,” she said softly. “But you will be in my debt.”
    “What do you want in return? What can I possibly offer you?” I asked.
    The Lady of the Mists smiled then, and my blood ran cold. Her smile was ruthless, not evil or malign, but as cold as snow, as frozen as glacial ice.
    “In time I will send someone to you. Someone connected with the mist and fog. You may not realize it when you meet her, but eventually you will remember this pact. You will help her. You will do whatever is needed to help her redeem herself. Do you understand?”
    I nodded, my teeth chattering. Her touch sent me reeling with the cold. “What happens if I say no?”
    She laughed, her voice echoing through the fog that swirled around us, whirling pools of dancing mist. “Then, my dear, you will journey over the abyss again, this time without a bridge.”
    Realizing that I was backed into a corner, and feeling the hand of fate squeezing me tighter, I gave her my pledge.
    “Close your eyes,” she whispered.
    I did, and the next thing I knew, I fell forward, losing my grip on the handcuffs. My eyes flew open and I found myself tumbling toward the floor as if I’d been shoved hard from behind. I scrambled for balance, but Trillian was there and he leapt forward, catching me in his arms. I was back in Roche’s room.
    “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered hoarsely, a terrified look on his face. And then he was kissing me, and in the heat of that kiss, I tumbled headfirst into the fire.

5
    TRILLIAN lifted me off my feet as his lips fastened on to mine. I melted into the kiss, willing it to go on and on as I wrapped my legs around his waist. The fear of dying at Roche’s hands, of being lost on the astral, of facing the Lady of the Mists, all rolled together into one big horny rush as he kissed me. I slid my hands up to his hair, my fingers coiling tightly around the long silken strands.
    He pressed against my inner thighs, rigid and searching behind the front of his trousers. I shifted, rubbing against him, listening to his soft moan as he tightened his grip around my waist. His fingers sparkled with magic and every place he touched tingled, sending a trail of desire singing through my body.
    “Do you think it’s safe?” I eyed the bed, then the floor. The floor was a