Free Lust Eternal by Sabrina York Page A

enough, when he tried to draw the
incantation on his latest little concubine. He would realize that part of the
spell, at least, was broken.
    Served him right for being so damn insistent. By simply
repeating his request seven times, Keeshan had lost the one tool he needed to
battle the lust of the lamp.
    How long would it take him to figure out the rest?
    Duvalli’s mind roiled.
    Irritation and…some other emotion swirled in his gut. He
needed a release.
    At his gesture, the curtain to the antechamber rose.
    “Come,” he commanded. And obediently, she entered the
great hall. Duvalli allowed himself a self-satisfied smirk as he watched her
cross the chamber, her head down, hands folded demurely at her waist, the way
women held themselves in her time. She would not be so demure in a moment, he
resolved.
    She stopped before him and lifted her eyes to his. They were
brown and beautiful and lushly lashed…and absolutely indifferent as she
surveyed him. “You summoned me, my master?” The words, from her lush,
berry-ripened lips, in her husky voice, sent a shudder down his spine.
    In response he spread his legs and opened the flap of his
breeches.
    She knew what he wanted, what he needed, just as he knew she
would comply.
    She always did.
    She had for centuries.

Chapter Nine
     
    Keeshan returned to the lamp to find Aimalee in the sleep
chamber, curled in a ball and weeping. He fell to his knees and wrapped her in
his arms and held her until the racking sobs stilled. “What is it?” he asked,
kissing her temple.
    It took her a minute to catch her breath, to be able to form
words. “It’s-it’s Carter.”
    Keeshan’s brow furrowed. Damn Carter. How he wished Aimalee
had never met the bastard. But then if she’d never met Carter, she wouldn’t
have found the lamp. And he would never have found her.
    But still. Carter was an ass.
    “What about him?”
    She gazed up at him, her lashes bedewed with tears. He had
the not-so-fleeting urge to wring Carter’s scrawny ascot-swathed neck. “I saw
him.”
    Keeshan’s heart lurched. Surely she hadn’t—
    “I asked the mirror.”
    Oh hell. She had.
    “I asked the mirror to show me Carter and-and…”
    He pulled her closer, rocked her back and forth. “What did
you see?” He had to ask though he did not want to know.
    “I’m not sure. It fogged over before I could see
everything.”
    Keeshan sighed. “It does that.” Damn mirror. If he did not
know the mirror was a soul as enslaved as he was, as ensorcelled and entombed,
he would smash it into smithereens. But the mirror had no choice. Like all of
them, it had to dance to the piper’s tune. Had to obey. “The mirror is obliged
to show what is asked and compelled to fog over just as emotions begin to
rise.”
    “That sucks.”
    His lips quirked in a tiny smile. “Yes. The only way you can
watch is by remaining dispassionate. Which is virtually impossible.”
    “Can you help me?” Damn. She was so beautiful, her soul so
pure, shining through.
    He cleared his throat in a rumble and steeled his spine.
“What do you need?”
    She shifted around on his lap, suddenly enthused. “I was
thinking… If it’s the emotion of the asker clouding the vision, maybe
you could ask the mirror to show you Carter. I could sit beside you in the room
and watch. Then maybe my emotions won’t cloud things up.”
    Keeshan stared at her, unsure how to respond. Damn it all
anyway. Magic didn’t act like that. It wasn’t situational. There were no
cheats, no tricks that could outwit a spell.
    But she was so hopeful, he hated to refuse outright.
    It was probably for the best. Let her see how fruitless this
quest was. Maybe then she would stop trying to catch a glimpse of the man she
should never have loved. But…
    What if it worked? What if she saw Carter in all his
selfish, misogynistic, faithless glory?
    Could she bear it?
    Could he?
    “Aimalee, I don’t think that is a good idea.”
    Her hope crumbled.
    Why did that send a shard