The pressure diminished but his expression hardened. You are speaking to me telepathically and you are experiencing my personal frequency, my realm vibration. No one can do that except when I allow it, but you accessed it freely. And you are…human. This cannot not be happening.

She was struggling to breathe. But his touch, and the flowing waves, had her trapped. She strained toward him, but he kept a grip on her arm, holding her away from him. He squeezed his eyes shut. This is impossible. You can’t be what you seem to be. You can’t be. You’re human. This is unacceptable.

Abigail slid her hand up his chest and reached his mouth. She ran her thumb over his lips.

How inappropriate and thank goodness they were standing at the back of the crowd. In the distance, she could hear another groomsman making a toast. Though it was nighttime, the floodlights lit mostly the band, the bridal table, and the dance floor. This far back, she stood in the shadows.

Time came to a swift stumbling halt.

Abigail looked at Gerrod as if for the first time. She felt a call so deep in her soul, driving her toward him, that to not respond, not to say ‘yes’, felt like a crime for which she would be punished if she didn’t obey. She needed this vampire, craved him. For the first time, her vein began to rise in her throat, because that’s the only way she could describe what she experienced. She needed him to take her blood because that would complete something essential between them, as essential as the nature of a kiss, as critical as the fulfillment of lovemaking.

Yet, she was human and didn’t truly belong in the realm world. She belonged in Flagstaff, the nearest access point to the Merhaine Realm.

The tip of his tongue teased her thumb. You taste of the sweetest herbs. Dear Goddess, please forgive me.

Before she knew what he meant by sending that particular message, he took hold of her arm, swung her in the direction of the forest, and led her twenty yards into the dark, a good distance from the crowd that now applauded. Music began at the same time, a lively folk song made for dancing.

He dragged her behind a tree and hauled her into his arms.

She fell against him, limp, her body in full surrender and not caring that this was so inappropriate and doomed to cause all kinds of problems.

For some strange reason as she stared up at him, though the forest was dark, his face was lit in a glow. Vampire magic? He was incredibly beautiful, his black brows thick and arched, his clear blue eyes thickly fringed, his nose straight, his lips full, his cheeks pronounced.

He leaned close, his lips trembling over hers.

“Do I have permission to kiss you?”

God, yes.

“Yes,” she whispered, panting against him, her fingers grasping the soft cloth of his loose Guard’s shirt. She dug deeper until her fingers found purchase in the hard muscles of his arms. His lips touched hers and the previous waves began to flow, heavier now.

She parted her lips and his tongue entered her, piercing her, plunging in and out.

She connected her hips low and felt the long rope of him. Her knees weakened further.

She suckled his tongue and he groaned again. The waves came faster now and seemed to pluck at every part of her body at once. She wanted to fall on the ground, but in gentle stages he eased back. But by then she was in agony and breathed hard. She pressed her forehead into his shoulder.

What is happening? she asked.

I fear it is something that will alter your life forever, unless you are wise, and choose to leave Merhaine. You would be wise, Abigail, not to come back and I’m begging you to do just that. You are not realm. You don’t understand our customs. My people would have great difficulty accepting you.

But beyond that, the Invictus have grown active again. A polite euphemism for death and destruction.

She drew back, but in her heels the uneven ground put her off-balance. She started to fall.

He caught her, righting her, then held her steady.

“Just tell me one thing,” she said. “What are the waves that you send through my body. They almost undo me. I…that is…you could have…I wouldn’t have objected.”

She met his gaze but she was blushing.

A soft strange growl left his lips. So vampires growled at such moments. He wasn’t human, but why didn’t that seem to matter to her? And why could she speak with him mind to mind? She should have cared, it should have been paramount. And her vein still throbbed, begging for him to take her very life-force.

“I swear you’ve enthralled me,” he said, a deep furrow now between his brows. “This must be your doing, Abigail. It was there from the first.”

“Gerrod are you saying that you’ve been attracted to me since that first day?”

“I won’t deny it.”

“I thought you disapproved of me.”

“I’m frustrated, even distressed, that I’m drawn to you, a very different thing.”

She put her finger in the furrow between his brows and rubbed. He let loose with a sigh, closing his eyes. She added, “You’re worried all the time.”

“Yes.” His voice was always little more than a deep, gravelly growl.

“One of the fae told me that there are a million realm in Merhaine. Is this true?”

He nodded.

“You have charge of a million souls then?”

“I do.”

“No wonder you rarely laugh.” She had meant to tease him but when he didn’t even smile, when he looked away from her, she finally understood his most essential self. He was responsible and he put those responsibilities above everything else in his life including his own happiness.

“No wonder your people thrive,” she said.

His gaze snapped back to her. “Why do you say that?” Again that deep furrow appeared.

“You’ve laid your life down for your people, no doubt for decades. Why wouldn’t they thrive? But what of you, Gerrod? What of your own happiness?”

He stared down at her with a stunned look in his eye as though she had asked something never heard of before. Then he just looked confused. But as other thoughts intruded, his face hardened. He looked like a vampire who had been standing in a strong wind for a very long time, centuries perhaps.

“We should get back.”

She nodded. The moment had passed. The only understanding that had been reached was that she desired him and he desired her, and that the realm world had no place for a human female in a mastyr vampire’s life.

As he turned to offer his arm, however, a strange keening sound broke through the forest, a sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Abigail turned toward the sound and watched as a red mist moved between the trees toward the reception.

“Red wind,” she whispered.

His gaze shot to her once more. “You can see that?”

She nodded.

He turned back as well. “The Invictus are here. Dear Goddess help us this night.”

“I will path you,” Gerrod said. “It’s the fastest way. Do you trust me?”

She blinked as though surprised. “Yes, of course.”

He didn’t exactly have time to explain. He slid his arm around her waist, dragged her against his side, lifted her off her feet, and sped back to the reception.

Her hand clutched his soft shirt, but other than a small, ‘oh,’ she didn’t offer a single protest.

Five seconds later, he took her to Augustus. “The Invictus are coming. See to everyone.”

“Yes, Mastyr.”

He turned to Abigail. “Go with Gus.”

She nodded in several quick bobs of her head.

He looked around, still holding her hand. There were at least three hundred realm-folk at the festivities, including the caterers and musicians.

He telepathed Jason. How far away are you?

Seven minutes.

Hurry. We’ve got Invictus sign.

He looked down at Abigail’s hand not understanding why he was so damn reluctant to let it go. He met her gaze and saw in her eyes so much compassion that he had to look away.

Finally, he released her hand. “Go to the castle with Gus. Go quickly.”

Again, she did nothing more than nod in agreement as though she understood. Well, she had been in and out of Merhaine for a year now and she had numerous realm friends. She would have heard many times about the Invictus. She would understand the trouble they faced.

“Go,” she said softly. “Do what you do best.”

He searched her gaze. Satisfied that she truly was all right, he turned on his heel and headed straight for the groom. He spoke swiftly to him. Gillet handed him the microphone.

He faced the people he knew so well. The red wind drew closer, flowing through the trees, brightening. He was always surprised that so few could see it.

“The Invictus are upon us. Please move into the castle with all due haste. Stay away from the forest. No one will be safe there. I will create a shield.”

He heard Gus calling out in a powerful voice, bidding the guests follow him. The wedding party began to move, a little slow at first, as though stunned. But soon, those closest to the castle were running.

Once the crowd was past him, he began spreading his power off to each side, high in the air, wider and wider, a barrier of protection. The Invictus would not be able to pass, but would be forced to do battle with him. As he had done for the past century and a half, since he had reached mastyr vampire status, he gathered his battling power.

And there they were, at least twenty powerful Invictus wraith pairs. Their mates came to do battle as well, some vampires, a couple of trolls, several fae, and one elf. But all were soldiers now. Most of the realm-folk that had made the decision to bond with a wraith, sported spiked hair and gold loops hanging from their ears. All were air-borne in a strong form of levitation. Apparently, pairing with a wraith to form Invictus sharpened all powers. Blades of varying kinds were the weapon of choice.

As though the numerous pairs acted as one, the blades began to spin and then fly toward him. The massive shield held, deflecting the blades, which made it possible for him to bring his battling power down his arms, readying at the tips of his fingers, the frequency vibrating strongly. Once he was warmed up, the same power would also fly in scattered blasts from his chest, shoulders and arms.