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didn’t hang around. Turning on her heels, she raced into the
darkness.

Chapter Two
     
    The fire exploded in a mass of violet flames and will-o’-the-wisps
lit up the trees around him. Bane reeled back, covering his face with his arm
as the things swarmed him, burning his skin with tiny pleasure-pain bites. As
soon as it had started, the flare was gone, plunging the small camp into
darkness. He swore, bright spots swimming before his vision.
    Oh Lady, she was good. He hadn’t expected that, not at all.
He’d felt her pulling power from the earth around her, but just a trickle.
Enough to deal with the ropes, but nowhere near enough to cause an explosion
like that. Then at the last minute he’d felt her open herself fully and rip
power from the earth. He’d never heard of a faery being able to do that. Ever.
    Rolling to his feet, he blinked to clear the bright spots
from his eyes just in time to see her disappear into the trees opposite the
fire. Roused by the sight of her running, the predator within him roared to
life. After that little trick, she should run from him. Once he got his
hands around her slender throat…
    With a roar, he leaped over the fire and took up the chase.
Red mist descended over his vision and adrenaline poured into his body,
energizing his large frame as he crashed through the trees after her.
    She was fast and nimble on her feet as she dodged and wove between
the trunks ahead of him. He was faster. Big as he was, no one had ever outrun
him, not the swiftest warriors in Briac’s army and certainly not his little
slip of a faery.
    The wood thinned out ahead of her. He grinned as she shot
him a look over her shoulder. Panic blossomed on her face as she realized how
close he was. There was no way she could make it to the thicker trees beyond
the clearing and they both knew it.
    She tried anyway, bursting into the open and racing across
the open space. The moon emerged from hiding, highlighting the slender figure
on a headlong dash into the woods ahead.
    Begrudging admiration filled him at her determination,
despite the fact that she was headed right for the bulk of the elven army,
camped just beyond the rise ahead. He liked a woman with spirit. They were more
of a challenge and sweeter when he finally had them shivering in submission
under him.
    He burst into the open less than a heartbeat behind her. He
was so close he could smell her panic and that elusive scent that clung to her
delicate skin. She was just a hairsbreadth out of reach. His heart thundered in
his ears, breath rasping from his lungs as he drove his body forward,
determined to catch her. The last thing he wanted was to have to share his
prize with the rest of the army.
    Her hair whipped around her face as she risked a look over
her shoulder again and paled. Her squeak fed the beast inside him, the part
that liked to hunt and chase. He almost had her, just a few more steps and she
was his.
    She put on a burst of speed, a last desperate attempt to
break away from him, but he wasn’t going to let her get away. Digging deep, he
used the big muscles in his legs and threw himself into a tackle.
    He hit her squarely, wrapped her up in his arms and twisted
at the last minute. They hit the ground. His shoulder took the brunt of the
blow, pain flaring for a second as they rolled in the silver-tinted grass. He
ignored it, concentrating instead on the small woman in his arms.
    Screeching like a banshee, she became as wild as a feral cat
as soon as they touched down. Blows, kicks and scratches came from everywhere
at once. He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth as he blocked furiously and
tried to hold on to her. She’d become as slippery as a shadow eel, sliding out
of his grasp any way possible.
    He swore, low growls in his native tongue. He could have
used magic, knocked her out cold again, but didn’t. She was way more fun when
she was awake, and besides, he needed to question her. He couldn’t question a
sleeping woman.
    The fight