"Tell me more about this ... magical marriage," she asked Bram.

He hesitated. "Every unmated wizard, remain here. Felicia must understand who her options are. The rest of you discuss a plan for rescuing Tynan."

Amidst a chorus of affirmative murmurs and back pats, nearly everyone left.

Marrok and Olivia, closest to the door, exited first. Ice and Sabelle followed, hands linked. Ronan and Kari whispered furiously, the former tossing a concerned glance back.

"Let me know if you need an ear to bend," Sydney murmured to Felicia before she and Caden left the room.

Suddenly, only Hurstgrove and Lucan remained with her and Bram. The room should have seemed much larger, but His Grace stood too close.

As soon as the door shut, Bram once again began pacing. "Mating is relatively simple. As I said, a wizard speaks the Call. You answer, Bind to him."

Why did she get the feeling he was oversimplifying?

"Hurstgrove and Lucan are the only two unmated wizards?"

"Simon," Duke corrected again.

She ignored him. Though calling the others by name didn't trouble her, it seemed too ... intimate with him.

"Tynan is also unmated," Bram clarified. "But I don't know if we can recover him in time. Raiden is technically single, but he's currently with Tabitha, the witch who carries his youngling, so ... no."

"Bram." Lucan's tone held a warning. "My presence here is ludicrous."

"Don't start--"

"Don't you start." He shook his head and reached for Bram's throat. "She does not belong with me. Nor I her, and you know that."

Felicia winced at the sight of these two friends fighting because of her. She stepped forward, ready to stop this argument.

Hurstgrove beat her to it, wrapping a harsh hand around Lucan's wrist and squeezing. "Let go. Now."

Lucan cursed, growled, then yanked his hand from Bram's neck. Then he turned electric blue eyes on her. Startling, beautiful, almost glowing, those eyes against his coffee-colored hair and bronzed complexion made Lucan a striking man. Gorgeous. But unstable. His volatility, lurking just under the surface, would explode without warning. It was only a matter of time.

Lucan was in agony without Anka, just as Deirdre had been without Alexei.

Having a mate who could never have feelings for Felicia would keep matters simple ...but she wondered if his sanity could handle bonding with another. Honestly, she didn't think so. She refused to do the one thing guaranteed to push someone broken-hearted over the edge.

"Lucan, it's ..." She shook her head. "You don't have to say a word to me."

Now, barring a miracle rescue of Tynan, she had only one wizard to choose. The thought made her shivery and hot all over.

"Thank you," he murmured, then sent Hurstgrove a solemn glance. "Duke, I would never subject anyone to the hell Shock has put me through."

Shock. A mate thief, Lucan had said. Was he implying that he wouldn't steal her from Hurstgrove, as if she was already his mate? Shock, and now Lucan, both thought so.

Curious.

His Grace closed his eyes, his lips flattening into a thin line, but he said nothing to refute Lucan. Even more curious.

"We appreciate that, Lucan," Bram began. "But these are desperate times, and--"

"Don't speak to me of sacrifice," Lucan warned. "What have you lost but a pile of stones and a woman you had for one night?"

Bram charged Lucan now, backing him into a wall. "The 'pile of stones' had been in my family for eleven centuries. Though I had Emma for one night, she is still my mate.

We didn't have the two hundred years together that you and Anka shared, but we share a bond, just the same."

Felicia sucked in a shocked breath. Lucan and Anka had been mates for two hundred years? "How long do you live?"

"Around a thousand years," Lucan admitted. "I'd spend every one of them with Anka, if I could."

Felicia's jaw dropped. An entire millennium?

She turned to Hurstgrove. "How old are you?"

"Forty-three, exactly as Mason said."

"A child by magical standards," Bram quipped. "And before you ask, I'm three hundred ninety-eight. The big four-zero-zero is coming up."

Mind boggling. "If I agree to this magical marriage, how long must the union last?

You spoke of Mathias breaking Lucan's bond with Anka, but can the bond be broken voluntarily?"

Bram nodded. "Most mates assume the longer lifespan of the two. So if you mated with Duke, you'd have nine hundred years, give or take, with him. But it's possible to separate once the danger has passed, go back to your mostly normal human existence."

Felicia waited for the acrid burning, but it never came. Perhaps she really could return to her normal life.

But the idea of bonding, even temporarily, with Hurstgrove rattled her. His abduction and their heated kiss aside, she'd known him a mere forty-eight hours. And the way he made her feel, he was much too dangerous to her heart.

"Is breaking a bond as simple as entering into one?"

"No. Assuming an Untouchable can truly bond with a wizard, ending the pairing is an uncomfortable process for the female. But once done, you'll recover quickly. And you won't remember your mate at all. You can go on with your life as planned."

"Bram ..." Hurstgrove snarled at him.

"Not a word. Felicia must know how this impacts her."

She studied the Doomsday Brethren's leader. It wasn't what he said that gave her pause; every word rang with truth. "What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing that affects you."

Given the absence of stench, Felicia had to believe him, but the murky way he phrased everything troubled her.

"Say yes," Bram urged. "If you do, you'll have a bond with a wizard who will give his life to keep you safe."

Aware of Hurstgrove's gaze on her, she recoiled. "That kind of sacrifice is something a person only does for a loved one. We won't have that sort of relationship, correct?"

"Saving a mate is a wizard's first instinct, regardless of emotion. Typically, mates develop feelings for each other, but ... bonds may not be the same for an Untouchable."

Felicia studied Bram with narrowed eyes. "There's no love involved?"

"It's not mandatory or compelled, no."

Another truth. A relief. She'd simply keep her heart--and body--out of the equation. She glanced at Hurstgrove. Well, she'd do her best, anyway. "All right. What do I do?"

"Felicia." Hurstgrove grabbed her shoulders. "Mating is--"

"Good girl," Bram cut in as if Duke hadn't spoken at all. "The Doomsday Brethren have to prepare for Tynan's rescue. It's roughly two hours until nightfall. Rest.

I'll return then, so we can proceed."

Chapter 8

WITH A COMPASSIONATE SMILE, Sabelle led Felicia through the shadowed cave, holding a candle. "Almost there."

"Thank you."

The witch's smile brightened. "Except for Ice, I'm used to easily reading minds.

So odd not to read yours."

A hint that the witch wanted her to open up? Felicia bit her lip. So many thoughts racing through her head. In a few hours, her entire life would change--again. She barely knew Sabelle, or anyone else here. Trust never came easily to Felicia, if at all. Yet they knew about her special gift. They were honest and willing to protect her at the risk of their own lives. She had no one else to talk to, to help her understand what was happening.

Felicia yearned for Mason's soothing voice. Whenever emotions threatened sound logic, he was always there. But she'd bet Mason didn't know what his brother was. Even if he did, how could she ask him for advice before temporarily bonding with Hurstgrove?

Mason would never understand.

Finally, Sabelle stopped and opened a door. "Sorry it's so far from the others.

Bram hopes that by secluding you deeper underground, you'll be distant enough to allow us to use magic, should it become necessary."

In other words, if Mathias attacked.

Feeling vaguely guilty, despite the fact she couldn't control the power, Felicia nodded and entered the little room nearly consumed by a wide mattress on a simple frame, piled high with quilts. A little water closet with a nearby sink was attached.

"Thank you."

"It's not much. We haven't had time to add more than the necessities." The witch shrugged with apology. "Would you like something to eat? Drink?"

She shook her head and kicked off her shoes. "Just some answers, if you please. If you have any information about people like me ..."

"Like I said, I haven't much. But I'll start looking through my grandfather's writings and bring you whatever I find about Untouchables." Sabelle cocked her head and sent her a considering stare. "I'm surprised you're able to sense lies, since you dampen magic. But there are some races whose traits are genetic, not magical. Vampires, lupines, fae, and I suppose, Untouchables."

"Apparently." Felicia smiled wanly. Silence ensued.

Time to deal with the elephant in the room: mating with Hurstgrove.

How would it affect her relationship with Mason? Was it even fair to contemplate marrying him now that she knew he loved her, when she would never love him the same way in return? Felicia bit her lip. Not likely. But how could she abandon her best friend?

Betray him?

In the midst of this upheaval, she couldn't get Hurstgrove out of her head. He'd gone to a lot of trouble to protect her. But he was also the same man who had shagged four women in one night. The same one whose tabloid exploits were legend. If they mated, how long before he snuck away to satisfy his sexual urges with someone else?

How much would it hurt?

What a bloody mess.

Concern softened Sabelle's perfect face. "What would you like to know?"

Anything. Everything. Felicia only knew there was much she didn't know--and she had no notion which questions were the right ones to ask. "I ..."

"I know you didn't ask for my opinion," Sabelle rushed on. "And God knows my brother gave you way too much to think about in a day, but if you're to choose someone to mate with tonight, you should know more about your potential mates."

"Like the fact Lucan is still in love with Anka, and Tynan apparently has a death wish?"

Relief crept across Sabelle's face. "Exactly."

"Not difficult to figure out, really. Lucan seemed unwilling to get involved. And Tynan is irrevocably in love with a memory. And he isn't here, besides. That limits my choices."

Easing the door shut behind her, Sabelle crossed the room. "I think that's best.

Romantically speaking, Duke is--"

"Please," Felicia interrupted Sabelle. She didn't need to hear the end of that thought. "I don't want to know about Hurstgrove's love life."

His emotional entanglements should receive the same weight as Lucan's or Tynan's. But she simply couldn't bring herself to hear about Duke being deeply involved with another.

"Duke doesn't have one. A sex life, yes. We all do. In magickind, we must have energy to power our magic or we die. Sex is the most potent, expedient way to get it."

Felicia's eyes popped wide. It sounded so crazy, yet Sabelle told the truth. "Sex is like ... food?"

"In a manner, yes."

So all of Hurstgrove's sexual exploits of tabloid fame ... had they merely been the means by which he'd fed his magic? Was sharing sex with someone like sharing a meal to magickind, casual and common? What about their kiss, had that been for energy? Or something more?

"You're still confused." Sabelle looked at her expectantly.

Indeed, Hurstgrove having sex wasn't optional. He must slake his lust--and build his energy--either with her ... or someone else. She must decide which. Either choice was fraught with its own landmines. "Mulling."

"Duke is an excellent choice of mate for you. He'll care for you well, in every way."

"He's my fiance's brother."

"I've only known Duke for a few years, but ..." Sabelle hesitated. "Other than the familial relation, what objection do you have to him as a mate?"

The Duke of Hurstgrove made her want. Feel. Yearn for something beyond the comfort, friendship, and security her head knew made a relationship work. The odd connection to him, her craving for him--that could ultimately destroy her if she let him into her heart. Given that sex was food to him, she'd be crazy to think she'd be the only woman he'd ever eat a meal with again, so to speak. Though he should be nothing to her, Felicia didn't kid herself. His casual snacks would crush her. She'd never had Deirdre's outspoken nature or fiery strength, and look what cheating had driven her strong-willed sister to.

"Hurstgrove and I ..." Felicia winced. "Not a wise notion." But what other choice could she make?

The witch's blue eyes dissected her. "I don't mean to pry, but ... did he kiss you?"

Felicia flushed, wondering how Sabelle had guessed. Kiss seemed like such an inconsequential word for the scorching, consuming way he'd claimed her mouth and made her ache for what she should never want. Hurstgrove was the sort of man who could easily take a woman's heart with his stunning looks, practiced seduction, and illusion of caring--then rip it to shreds when he moved on.