Niall held Charlotte’s limp body in his arms. She felt hot to the touch and so he’d pulled the sweater off her. One moment she’d been ranting at him, saying things she could not have known, and the next she was trembling on the bed, having a seizure.

After the tremors stopped, he held her and waited. That is when the guilt set in. He should not have made love to her. Though she spoke with newfound strength, and accepted the supernatural events she had lived through, she was still fragile. He should have been stronger. When she kissed him, he should have been able to resist.

Fool that he was, he knew if she were to kiss him again, he’d succumb to her. That said, he wasn’t foolish enough to believe she had actually wanted to be with him. There were many more plausible explanations as to why she’d kissed him. Her body craved his magick to fill in the missing pieces. Or the potion the lidérc gave her had residual effects and made her try to pull life from him. Or…or…

“Tell me how to fix this for ya, Charlotte.” Niall tried to bury the burden of his feelings. “Tell me how to make it better. I don’t know how ya see the truth, or how those memories have come back, but I am glad they have.”

Charlotte gasped and flailed in his arms. He held her loosely, letting her move while trying to keep her from injuring herself. She smacked him across the face. Her eyes opened in surprise at what she’d done, blinking rapidly as she looked around for any possible backlash to her unseemly behavior.

“Niall,” she whispered, pushing up from the bed. Charlotte reached for his shoulder, finding a scar from when he’d been shot. She then pulled back the covers to expose his naked thigh to check a second bullet wound. The delicate way her fingers pressed at his skin caused his body to react and he couldn’t hide his growing arousal. When she moved to his stomach, he realized what she was looking for.

Niall grabbed her hand. “What are ya doing?”

“I saw them shoot you.” Her gaze again strayed toward his scars. “How did you survive falling off the cliff? What about that gray werewolf you were fighting? I remember standing there thinking he was older than you, and this is going to sound insane, but that he was around since before Vlad the Impaler became ruler of that place… I can’t remember what it was called now.”

“Wallachia,” he supplied. The comment about Vlad the Impaler was exactly what a local had told him when he was asking about the gray wolf legend in the area. How could she know that?

“That’s it.” Charlotte sighed with relief. “It was weird. For some reason, it was like we were in Eastern Europe, but I’ve never been to Eastern Europe, have I?”

“Not with me.” Niall didn’t understand what was happening. Charlotte remembering her own past was one thing, but to remember an event that only he and a few Romanian hunters knew about?

“And the hunter said something, and I understood him,” she continued. “Omora? Omoah?”

“Omoara-l,” Niall said.

“Right.” She nodded. “It means…I knew what it meant.”

“Kill it.” Niall pulled the covers over his lap to hide the evidence of his desire for her.

“So how did I learn to speak…?”

“Romanian.” He sighed, not liking that she knew all this about that night.

“I speak Romanian?” She moved her mouth as if trying to get the foreign language to come back to her.

“No. I do.” Niall saw her shiver, and he lifted his hand to stoke the fireplace without bothering to get out of bed. The fire burned brighter. “Ya were looking at a memory from my past.”

“So, was that gray wolf really like a thousand years old?” she asked.

“More like six hundred,” he corrected. “I didn’t stop to ask him about his birthday.”

“Wow. I guess I never thought that…” Her eyes widened and she looked at him. “How old are you?”

“Old,” he mumbled.

“No, really. When were you born?”

“1655.”

“Wow.” Charlotte’s mouth dropped open a little before she started laughing. “Never mind, you really are old. And the rest of your family?”

“I’m the youngest sibling,” he said.

“Wow.”

“Ya keep saying that,” he muttered, suddenly feeling those hundreds of years.

“It’s just that I would have assumed you were the oldest by the way you act all protective. Aren’t the youngest children supposed to be the carefree, wild ones?” Her smile was infectious.

“Ya don’t think I’m carefree?” The very idea of such a word being applied to him was comical in its absurdity.

“I think you’re,” she paused and her smile fell into something more thoughtful, “burdened.”

“I’m not burdened,” he lied.

“I disagree. When we were in Romania—”

“Ya somehow peeked in at one of my memories. I’m not sure how. I was in the Carpathian Mountains. Alone.” Niall glanced at his mansion bedroom, reminded of where they were. She touched his chest and he tensed. He held his breath, feeling her touch like an electrical shock through his system.

“I should be mad at you,” she said softly.

“Ya have every right. I should not have taken advantage of ya,” Niall agreed.

“The sex?” Charlotte laughed. “I’m pretty sure I took advantage of you. But let me give you a heads-up. That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I’ll probably try to retake advantage sometime soon.”

Pleasure filled him at her words, and he did his best not to appear too eager. It was difficult enough not staring at her in her bra, knowing that beneath the covers she still had not bothered to put on her panties.

“What I meant was, I should be mad at you for taking my memories, and lying to me, and being an asshole, and for being a slumlord…but I’m not. I find I can’t be, and I can’t explain it.” She studied him and arched a brow. “Actually, that’s a lie. I am mad about the slumlord part.”

“I’m not a slumlord,” he defended. “I have workers going through fixing everything they can find. I even ordered ya a new bed to replace the damaged one in your apartment.”

“You did?”

“Aye. Dar hit the family with bad luck when I was away on a hunt and that spilled over onto our properties in town. Lydia’s house was hit by gremains. This house was hit with ghosts, goblins, demons, amongst other things. Our apartment building was plagued with broken pipes and bad wiring, and…oh, crap.”

“What?”

“Gremains.” He sighed in frustration. “Bad plumbing, bad wiring, broken generator…we probably have one hiding out in the building somewhere. It’ll keep breaking things until I catch it.”

“Is that a kind of gremlin?”

“Aye.” Niall sat up on the bed, mentally listing all the things he needed to take care of. “They’re mischievous little pains in the arse that like to disassemble anything mechanical or electrical, basically anything that can be taken apart.”

“What is it? What’s wrong? Why did your expression go all,” Charlotte gestured at his face, “dark and gloomy?”

“I shouldn’t be lying around. My ma sent Uncle Raibeart to deal with the fairies and goblins, so either he’s tied up and trapped inside a goblin’s den or engaged to a fairy. Either way, he’ll need rescuing. I’ll get the gremain out of the apartment building, but there is at least one more in the forest who will be looking for a new home to destroy. The hauntings can wait, except for that wraith. It’s going to be tricky figuring out why she’s here.”

“This is what I mean when I say you’re burdened,” Charlotte said. “Surely Raibeart can take care of himself.”

Niall wasn’t so sure. How his uncle managed to survive each year was a mystery.

“Fine, if not himself, then surely someone else in the family can look after him.”

“They could, but Malina is busy reconciling with Dar and probably trying to avoid our ma. Margareta won’t lend a hand. She and Cait hate goblins. Erik will be helping at Lydia’s. That leaves Rory and Euann, and those two would end up captured next to Raibeart because they probably couldn’t stop bickering long enough to get the job done.”

“I think maybe you’re underestimating your family,” she said.

“I didn’t say they weren’t capable, I just know from experience they’ll come to me to take care of it.” Niall made a move to sit up. He didn’t want to leave her, but he knew he should.

“Wait.” Her hand on his arm stopped him, keeping him on the bed more effectively than a petrifying spell. He felt her move on the bed behind him. Her hand moved up his arm to his face, turning his cheek to look at her.

“I don’t regret what we did. For some reason, I think you might.” Charlotte’s eyes gazed into his. Hope filled him at her words, tempting him with dreams he never allowed himself to have. “We clearly do not get along on a day-to-day basis, and I’m not saying we should go steady or anything, but you have to admit the sex was great. We’re both adults. I may be delusional about a lot of things in my life, but I know what this is. You don’t love me, and that’s okay. I don’t expect you to. I’m not asking for romantic dinners and promises, but if we enjoy—”

“Ya want us to be lovers.” He tried to condense her point to get her to stop talking about it. All the pleasure he felt faded at her notion of what he felt, and what they could be to each other.

“Why not?” She smiled. Damn, but it was a beautiful smile.

I would let ya see the truth if that meant ya would look at me once the way I see ya every day.

The words from the past whispered through his mind, but he would never say them, not when she was conscious and looking at him.

When he didn’t readily answer, she added, “Maybe the sex was so good because we’re always arguing.”

“And how would this arrangement work?” The idea of his family finding out that Charlotte wanted to use him for his body but nothing else didn’t settle well with him. His siblings would tease him relentlessly about it, and each time he’d be reminded of what he couldn’t have.

“Well, you see, when a girl likes a boy,” she moved to her knees and kissed the corner of his mouth, “and when a boy likes a girl,” she kissed him again.

“I meant other people,” he explained, resisting the temptation to throw her down on the bed and continue the game she’d started.

“Oh.” Her expression fell somewhat. “I mean, I suppose, if you wanted, you could be with other…”

The words hit him worse than the time he’d been kicked in the gut by a possessed donkey. “I meant, do we tell other people?”

She looked at him for a long moment before shaking her head. “I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business what we do.”

He desired her almost as much as he wanted to yell at her. This woman was the most frustrating, stubborn, aggravating…

Charlotte kissed him, cutting off all thoughts. He felt the warmth of her tongue poking between his lips. He was hers to command.

Niall ran his hand up her thigh, pulling her so that she fell back onto the mattress. He tugged her bra strap to free a breast. Just as his mouth was lowering, voices invaded from the outside hall. He paused, lips hovering over a tight nipple.

“Erik, no, I don’t care what you say right now,” Lydia’s said from outside his door. “She’s my best friend, and I can’t stand that she thinks I wanted to hurt her. I need to make sure she’s all right and that your family didn’t try to petrify her again or—”

Niall pulled his mouth away. Both he and Charlotte glanced toward the door.

“Lydia, wait—” Erik protested.

“She can hate me all she wants, but I’m going to check on her,” Lydia said sternly. Charlotte gasped and scrambled beneath him to get up.

Niall lifted his hand to magickally turn the latch in the door to lock Lydia out. He rolled to the side and reached for his jeans. The doorknob jiggled. He didn’t have time to dress the usual way; he waved his hand over his body, materializing the clothes to hide his nakedness.

“Help,” Charlotte whispered. She’d righted her bra and was rummaging around the bed for her sweater.

“Open it,” Lydia demanded. “Your brother better not be messing with her thoughts again. He promised me that he wouldn’t harm her.”

Niall magickally dressed Charlotte in one of his old T-shirts and sweatpants. They were too big for her, but at least they were clean. She grabbed her sweater and threw it toward the corner of the room before trying to smooth the covers.

“Open it, or so help me, Erik MacGregor, I’ll lay a hand on you and suck all your magickal power out and do it myself,” Lydia said.

The door unlocked.

“Thank you,” Lydia huffed. “Now move.”

Charlotte pushed her hair back. Niall stood beside the bed.

Lydia pushed into the room. “Charlotte, I know you’re in here. I need to talk to you.”

Charlotte pretended to yawn.

“I know you’re mad at me, but I can—” Lydia skidded to a stop as she saw Niall was also in the room. “Niall, what did you do? I told you, we can’t take anything else from her. It’s not right. I shouldn’t have let you in the first place.”

“I didn’t,” Niall protested.

“He didn’t,” Charlotte said at the same time. “In fact, he’s the only one who’s told me the truth.”

“She remembers everything,” Niall said.

“Hey, sorry about the intrusion.” Erik appeared from behind his wife. His gaze moved over Charlotte and his brother before going to the floor. He tried to pull Lydia’s arm. “Fíorghrá, we should let Charlotte rest.”

“No, not until she forgives me.” Lydia stepped deeper into the room. “Char, please, I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you everything.”

“Maybe I should go.” Niall started to leave, but Erik was staring at him strangely and he stopped.

Lydia teared up and sniffed. “I’m sorry. Please, Char, you can’t hate me. I didn’t know how to help you. When you saw Erik shift on my lawn, you were so freaked out. You started babbling about aliens and all kinds of crazy things. Then later, when Brad and Joe took us to Sheriff Johnson’s house, you nearly died by taking in Iain’s magick. I think you might have died. I would have agreed to anything to have you back. You haven’t even been able to go near Iain without the both of you feeling sick. Please, you can’t hate me! You can’t quit our friendship. You must forgive me. I love you. You’re the sister I never had.”

“Of course, I forgive you.” Charlotte tossed the covers aside and slid off the bed. She caught the waistband of the sweatpants with a fist to keep them from falling.

Lydia hurried to give Charlotte a hug. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Charlotte answered. “I was just angry earlier and needed time to try to sort things out.”

“Well, I’ll tell you everything.” Lydia smiled, even as tears wet her cheeks. “I want to tell you everything.”

Charlotte went in for another hug, but Lydia stopped and looked down.

Niall glanced around the side of the bed to find Lydia standing on Charlotte’s discarded underwear. Lydia lifted her foot and frowned. She looked first at Charlotte and then over at Niall.

“We should let Charlotte rest,” Erik said. It was then Niall realized his brother had spotted the underwear when he walked in and had instantly suspected what had happened.

“Charlotte?” Lydia asked. She looked at her friend and then Niall again. “Are you…? Did you…?”

Charlotte looked helplessly at him.

“Are you sleeping with Niall?” Lydia blurted, as if she couldn’t believe such a fantastical thing. “But, I thought you hated him?” Lydia turned to Niall. “I thought you hated her?”

“We should go.” Erik grabbed Lydia a little more forcibly and pulled her with him. “Charlotte, I’m happy to see you’re feeling better. Lydia and I would love it if ya came by the house as soon as you’re able. I’m sure there is much for ya two to talk about.”

“But…” Lydia said in shock. Erik managed to get her out of the room, pulling the door shut as they left. Through the door, he heard Lydia say, “But they don’t like each other!”

“So much for keeping it a secret.” Charlotte gave a small laugh.

“Yeah, I should go take care of those things before…” Niall’s words trailed off as he followed Lydia and Erik out of the room. He couldn’t listen to another of Charlotte’s definitions of their just-secret-lovers relationship status.

He hid around a corner until he was sure Lydia and Erik had left. He didn’t want to explain, especially when he didn’t know the answers himself.