Free The Crossing (Immortals) by Joy Nash

turned the problem over in her mind. The spell
she'd used on the faerie villages was out. The victims of
that spell had to be unaware of the spell-caster's presence.
Mac was only too well aware of hers.
    There was another spell she might use, though. One
that was much more elemental. Heat flashed through her
body; her mouth went dry.
    Risky. Very risky.
    Did she dare?
    The car slowed as sheep pasture gave way to houses.
They were entering another village. A tourist sign pointing the way to Culloden Battlefield flashed by her window.
    "Where are we going?" she asked, hoping her voice
sounded normal.
    "Patience, love." A right and a left turn guided them out
of the village and onto another country lane, pasture and
moorland on either side. A tall iron fence ran along one
side of the road, punctuated by stone pillars and topped by
an electric wire. Mac braked in front of a closed, locked gate. Security cameras, mounted atop the gateposts,
swiveled in their direction.

    Artemis sensed magical protection as well, a glimmer of
an incredibly complex pattern of wardings. If she wasn't
so wound up, she would have enjoyed examining it more
closely.
    "We're here, love."
    "Where's `here'?"
    "One of my homes away from home."
    He leaned out the window and pressed a button mounted
on a post. "Mac Lit," he said into what looked like a
speaker.
    Immediately, the gate creaked open, its two halves swinging outward. Mac spoke a low, lyrical spell. Green lightning flashed between the gateposts. A shower of sparks
exploded, then twinkled into nothingness.
    Mac put the car in gear and drove through. A second
spell restored the wardings behind them. The gate shut
with a brutal twang. Like a jail cell door. A chill ran down
Artemis's spine. Well. This certainly put a crimp in her escape plans.
    The driveway was long, lined with stately oaks. After a
half mile or so, it branched right and left to frame a
ridiculous expanse of lawn, manicured to within an inch
of its life. A peacock strutted by, his harem of hens waddling in his wake. A perfect foil for the stately mansion behind them.
    Built of honey-colored stone, the structure rose five
stories. Lace curtains fluttered from the windows, and
graceful eyebrow dormers peeked above the tiled roof. A
curved split stair swept from the drive to a set of gleaming
mahogany doors.
    Mac cruised to a halt at the foot of the stair and turned
to face Artemis, one arm draped atop the steering wheel.
"Like it? I bought it last year. Used to be an English duke's hunting lodge or some such thing. I've installed brilliant
security, both mundane and magical." He gave her a
cheeky grin. "As you've no doubt noticed. We'll stay the
night here and sort things out."

    Stay the night? Did that mean what it sounded like?
Artemis's heart tripped a double beat. Mac might be handing her the perfect opportunity to get what she needed.
She searched his sea-green eyes, trying to read his intentions. His gaze remained annoyingly inscrutable.
    "All right."
    He shot her a look. "No argument?"
    She smiled. Provocatively, she hoped. "Would an argument get me anywhere?"
    His grin widened. "No."
    Her stomach did a flip. Goddess, but he was drop-dead
handsome when he smiled. He should be locked away.
Their gazes met, and lingered.
    Two uniformed servants chose that moment to appear,
one man at Mac's door, the other at Artemis's.
    "Welcome, sir," said the one on Mac's side. "So good to
see you."
    "And you, too, Fergus." Mac's glance back at Artemis
was both amused and apologetic. "They came with the
house," he told her in a low voice. "Couldn't very well turn
them off, could I?"
    "I suppose not," Artemis murmured as she gave her
hand to the servant who had opened her door. He helped
her from the car as if she were a duchess, his eyes betraying not a hint of censure at her scruffy attire.
    Mac's attendant bowed. "Luggage, sir?"
    "None for me. But the lady..." He sent Artemis an inquiring