Velvet Haven

heading for the exit of the emergency room, where he stopped and once more raised his palm, releasing the humans from his magical bond.
    “You will remember none of this. Nor will any of you remember Mairi.”
    Then he left with Mairi in his arms. She was his now. For better or worse, as the humans liked to say.

    Bran placed Mairi on his bed and ran his hand through her silky hair so that it lay fanned out on his pillow. He had lit the candles in the room and closed the velvet draperies on the windows. Pulling up a chair, he rested his booted foot on the frame of the mattress, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath the black sheets.
    He had brought her back to Velvet Haven. He couldn’t leave her alone in her apartment and he was not strong enough to fight in the mortal realm, if the Soul Stealer were to come after her again. If he couldn’t be in Annwyn, then Velvet Haven was the next best thing.
    He palmed his pec, rubbing his hand back and forth over his heart. There was a god-awful pain there. One he had never felt before. Sighing, he closed his eyes and saw her as he had that first time standing outside the club, her white aura luring him. He remembered how it was between them in the hall. She’d been afraid of him—his size, his eyes. He’d tasted her fear and he’d felt as though his heart had been carved out of his chest. He didn’t want her fear. He wanted her warmth. He wanted her body. He wanted her . Not just her sex.
    He barely knew her, but somehow he felt that he had to have her in his life.
    Disrobing, he studied her face in the candlelight, the way her chest rose and fell softly, making certain that every breath she took was easy and painless. She was alive. He still couldn’t believe it. Suriel had resurrected her tonight.
    Slipping beneath the sheets, Bran pulled her to him, curving her body into his. He played with her hair, grazed his fingertips along her cheek, and hoped like he had never hoped before that she would come to understand him and accept him in her life.

    Maybe Sanchez really was more than a hot bod and a dose of male arrogance. The scent of the bacon and eggs he was cooking for her certainly made Mairi think otherwise.
    “She’s waking.”
    That was not Sanchez’ voice. Bran. She stirred, trying to open her lids, which felt swollen and heavy. No one else had such a dark, velvety voice.
    “About time,” said another. This voice was deep as well, but not nearly as sensual to her ears as Bran’s was.
    “You do recall what your end of this bargain is, don’t you?”
    There was a masculine growl and movement on the mattress beside her. “The damn book is there on the nightstand. Take it.”
    “It means nothing to me until it’s been deciphered. The Scribe has written it as a fable of what may come to pass. It’s riddled with clues that I don’t understand. But Mairi has the ability to understand it.”
    “I don’t care about the book,” Bran growled.
    “You should. The Soul Stealer is morphing, Raven. Changing into something more dangerous than he was before. The fact that he is also looking for the book is warning enough. We must find that flame and amulet.”
    “What the hell are you after, Suriel?”
    Suriel . His image swam before her and Mairi felt his presence—and a host of conflicts swirling in him.
    “The book decoded,” she heard him reply. “And I will have it.”
    The door slammed shut, jarring against the wood frame. Mairi jumped, struggled to sit up, but her body was weak.
    “Here, let me help you.” Mairi felt big hands on her arms as they tenderly pulled her up. Behind her, she heard pillows being plumped before she was carefully laid back. A warm cloth scented with lavender was placed over her eyes. “This will help with the swelling.”
    She heard numerous doors opening and closing. Music from the floor below, and the occasional male voice. She was not in her apartment. And this was not Sanchez sitting beside her, holding a cloth to her face.
    Grabbing the thick wrist, she forced his hand away and looked up into Bran’s mismatched eyes.
    “So, Sleeping Beauty awakens,” he said with a smile. “And about time, too.”
    “What day is it?”
    “Tuesday. You have lost two days.”
    “Where am I?”
    “Velvet Haven. And you’re safe.”
    His gaze darkened as he looked at the side of her face. Gently, he ran his fingertips along her swollen cheek. The throbbing she had felt suddenly left, leaving nothing but warmth