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not look happy, but then the fold he’d attempted had torn up the mesh super-structure which held the wings together.
    He was all healed up, but his face was still pale. Busted wings hurt .
    He looked around, his gaze landing on her for a moment, before he asked, “Where’s Duncan?”
    “He was in the hall talking to Alex. And since Alex is already here, I don’t know where Duncan is. On the phone, maybe.” She shrugged.
    Duncan had been so remote of late, even Luken didn’t evince the smallest surprise at her answer. The entire team knew they’d split up, though she currently resided in his home.
    No one knew what to do with Duncan, not even Luken who could usually draw a bead on one of his team’s issues, then work swiftly to get the problem resolved. But he’d become increasingly distant with everyone.
    Though his visions had been his strongest emerging power, he hadn’t had a single one since the recent battle at Endelle’s palace. For months, prior to Yolanthe entrancing him, he’d utilized his visions during battle in order to lay out the position of the enemy and in doing so, he’d saved a lot of lives. As Merl had indicated earlier outside, his visions had all but dried up.
    Luken moved in the direction of the bar, sliding behind to slam a tumbler on the counter and pour a scotch, neat. He threw it back and poured another.
    Her lips twisted. “Well, you sure had some fun tonight.”
    He met her gaze. Damn, but Luken had the most beautiful blue eyes, as clear as a Caribbean sea. His hair was almost as blond as hers and even longer.
    “How you doin’, Rachel? You’ve become one helluva a fighter in the past month. You look born to it out there, like your brother Gideon. Sure you don’t want to take up sword-work?”
    She shook her head. “I can hardly lift the practice sword you gave me. I don’t have the muscle.”
    He settled his elbows on the bar and sipped his scotch. Of course, with his back hunched, his shoulders appeared extra-massive, sending shivers over her arms and down her sides.
    She swiveled slowly away from him, her skin on fire as desire rippled through her. Creator help her, she couldn’t start lusting after Luken.
    He patted her arm and it was all she could do to keep from moaning. She felt guilty as hell, but she was a man-hungry, hormonal mess. The breh-hedden had crashed down on her and now all she could think about was sex, Duncan’s hot-as-hell body, and how she wasn’t gettin’ any.
    “Rachel? What the fuck?” Duncan’s deep voice hit the air.
    She pivoted slightly, swiveling once more on her stool, as she turned in the direction of the entrance. Duncan stood in the doorway, scowling at her.
    Oh, shit. Busted. But maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. Duncan ought to get a clear picture of the state she was in.
    For a moment, time slowed to a standstill and all she saw was his thick, dark brown hair, in waves to his shoulders and his beautiful green eyes. He began moving toward her, walking with his usual lethal grace, the way a stallion would move, muscles quivering.
    His eyes always got to her, an incredible green, heavily fringed with black lashes. His dark brows were thick and arched. His symmetrical features gave him a powerful appearance with high, pronounced cheekbones and a strong, angled jaw.
    His nostrils flared. Her scent had to be flooding the room given the level of her need.
    He crossed quickly to her and at the same time, Luken moved almost as fast to get out of Duncan’s way.
    When Duncan got close enough, she slid from the stool to stand about a half inch away from him and gripped both sides of his weapons harness. “We need to talk.” Her voice sounded hoarse.
    His green eyes flashed, but he addressed her telepathically, What I want to know is why the hell your garden scent has suddenly filled this space?
    She glared in response. Why do you think?
    He took her arm and guided her none too gently toward the hall. “Fine. Then let’s talk.”
    Once in the