My Wicked Enemy by Carolyn Jewel

Author:Carolyn Jewel
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Paranormal, General, Romance, Romantic Suspense Fiction, Witches, Fiction, Demonology
ISBN: 9780446178235
Publisher: Forever
Published: 2007-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

F en sent her magic sniffing after Carson. Nikodemus let her play a while, got her frustrated, then crushed her attempt to break in. Any other time, Carson could have handled Fen on her own. Her mind was damn near proof against fiends. But this wasn’t just any time, and nobody, especially not some whacked-out psycho blood-twin, was taking on his connection to Carson. Fen’s eyes went wide when the blowback hit. He made sure it was enough for Fen to get the message to stay the fuck out.

“Who are you?” Fen asked.

“Someone you shouldn’t piss off,” Nikodemus said. That made two things that didn’t add up. Blood-twins who didn’t share a response to someone they met, and now Fen asking him what he was. She freaking ought to know. She ought to have known what Nikodemus was the minute he got in the door, if not sooner.

“Warlord,” Harsh said. Playing the diplomat so Fen wouldn’t blunder into some serious hurt. How warm and fuzzy for Harsh to be protecting the psycho he loved.

He felt sorry for Harsh. Seeing the two of them reminded him that being in love was nothing but physical and mental misery. Coming home after a long time away and finding out everything, including the love of your life, had changed for the worse, sucked. This bullshit was exactly why Nikodemus had told himself he’d never fall in love ever again. You just ended up making excuses for someone. Excusing the inexcusable. Love plain made you stupid. The problem was, he was worried he was looking at his own case of stupid coming on. He wasn’t exactly making excuses for Carson, but it was damn close. She’d behaved courageously the entire time he’d known her—not what you expected from one of the magekind. This whole thing had him fucked up bad. Get her fixed and get him cured. Right. Then they could get on with their separate and incompatible lives.

The male, Iskander, went on staring at Carson like he’d never seen a woman in real life. Ridiculous. His sister was about as hot as any female got. They were blood-twins. Of course Iskander was doing his sister. So why, when his sister was telegraphing emotion, was Iskander not reacting in like fashion? He should be. The two of them should be reacting as one. He checked Harsh. “You said they were blood-twins,” Nikodemus said.

“They are.” Harsh reached up to smooth back the hair he didn’t have anymore, stopped, then crossed his arms over his chest.

Carson’s magic was spinning out of control again, one minute nerve-shredding, ball-shrinking mage, the next eerily like one of the kin. “I thought mageheld fiends had short hair,” she said. She took a step toward Iskander but looked back at Nikodemus. “Don’t they?”

“He isn’t mageheld, Carson,” he replied. But it sure as hell freaked him out that she had the same mistaken thought about Iskander that he’d had about Fen. He could feel them, though. They weren’t mageheld. They were just freaks.

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