“No?” she echoed mockingly. “You don’t own —”
I lunged for her, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck. She shrieked — but with indignation, not fear. Her magic surged forward, battering me, tearing my clothing, shoving me back.
I lost my grip on her neck. She wrenched away from me. I slammed my foot to her knee. An awkward glancing blow, but she stumbled.
I kicked her in the stomach, throwing her back into the snow.
“In the house,” I snapped, addressing everyone at once.
No one listened to me. In fact, by the tenor of the magic, the witches and Jenni had joined Aiden and Opal on the patio. But I didn’t have the time to check.
Samantha scrambled to her feet, snarling.
“No, Zans!” Christopher shouted.
Her hands flicked forward, launching metal projectiles carried on a wave of her magic. But not toward me or Christopher. Toward the people arrayed on the patio.
“Shield!” the clairvoyant shouted.
Witch and sorcerer magic snapped into place, but I was already running for Samantha before her volley made contact with the hastily erected ward, then rained to the ground.
The telekinetic sneered at me.
Then disappeared.
I stumbled to a stop.
Magic shifted along my spine. Christopher’s magic, but not triggered by the clairvoyant. I spun around.
Samantha abruptly appeared in front of Christopher. She slammed her open palm to the clairvoyant’s chest, throwing him backward into the snow with her magic as much as the physical strength of the blow. Then she grabbed Paisley by the scruff of her neck, pausing to sneer in my direction once more.
The strike against the observers on the patio had been meant to draw me away, and I’d fallen for it. I ran, knowing I was too slow, feet sliding in the snow.
Paisley looked at me pleadingly, confirming in one terrible, pained-filled moment what I’d already been fairly certain of — she couldn’t hurt any of us. Any of the Five. She couldn’t fight off Samantha herself.
“No, Zans!” Christopher cried again, scrambling to his feet.
Samantha disappeared, dragging Paisley with her.
I stopped moving.
I stopped breathing.
Willing myself into a cool, calm detachment, I reached for Samantha’s magic where it was embedded under my skin. I waited for the slightest glimmer of it. Waiting, watching.
The telekinetic could teleport, but only short range. And I’d already felt how compromised her power was. She wouldn’t be able to move far. But I’d had no idea she could even move creatures other than herself. That was a new aspect of her abilities, presumably triggered when her power came back after being completely stripped by me eight years ago.
An unfortunate aspect, at least for me and Paisley.
Magic shimmered.
I was already running as Samantha and Paisley appeared halfway across the yard, midway along the garden fence.
The demon dog keened in pain.
Zans stumbled, her magic fluttering. Stuttering.
I wouldn’t be able to close the space between us before she managed to teleport again.
So I reached for the power that bound us, not knowing what the hell I could do with that connection without actually touching Samantha. Just desperately knowing that I couldn’t let the telekinetic drag the demon dog with her again. She was hurting Paisley. She might even manage to kill her. From what I was able to sense of it, their magic wasn’t compatible. Even though Paisley appeared to teleport, I had often wondered if she was actually sidestepping through dimensions. Or perhaps the incompatibility was because Samantha’s magic was damaged somehow.
I didn’t know. And even if I had known, that knowledge wouldn’t have helped me in the moment.
The telekinetic’s power welled up.
Still running, I reached toward her, straining. I grabbed at the magic that belonged to me. My power embedded under her skin.
Ah, yes. That was mine.
I clamped down on that power, holding that sliver of myself in the here and now. Because Samantha wouldn’t be able to teleport without taking the blood tattoo embedded in her spine with her. At least I was hoping she wouldn’t.
She gurgled a scream, losing her hold on Paisley. The demon dog stumbled, falling into the snow, then scrambling to gain her footing.
I brushed away the fear that came with seeing Paisley hurt, stepping toward Samantha even as I continued to pull the magic embedded in the blood tattoo toward me. My power, embedded into skin and nerve and bone.
She screamed again, falling to her knees and twisting back toward me.
Christopher joined me, keeping pace with me.
Paisley began crawling back toward us.
“Stop! Stop!” Samantha cried.
I didn’t stop. I pulled and pulled at the magic that belonged to me. Magic that had originally been taken from me without permission. Power that had been anchored to Tek5, increasing her own abilities. It was mine.
To have.
To hold.
To squeeze.
So I squeezed.
Samantha fell back, writhing. Screaming silently now.
I stepped up, leaning over her. Holding my hand in her line of sight. I relaxed my fingers.
She sagged to the ground in relief. She was bleeding from her nose. She met my gaze, starting to sneer.
I closed my hand to a fist again, squeezing the magic I’d reclaimed.
She arched up in pain.
“Socks,” Christopher whispered.
I glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at me.
He was looking back at the patio, at our audience.
I followed his gaze, instantly locking my eyes with Aiden’s. Magic shimmered in the depth of the sorcerer’s gaze, his hand forward, fingers stretched, holding a ward in place. His expression was inscrutable. Ember stood to his left and Jenni to his right. Both of their expressions were neutral. But Opal …
Capri was clutching Opal to her. I saw fear etched across both their faces.
A different emotion flitted through me. It might have been regret. I squashed it.
I had never pretended to be anything other than what I was. I would never have let Samantha kill Paisley. Not even if I scared Opal saving the demon dog.
The telekinetic started laughing. “New trick, Socks?” She spat a mouthful of blood into the snow. The bright red was shockingly stark against the melting white.
Paisley stumbled to her feet, pressing against my leg. She was panting in pain.
Samantha’s gaze fell to the demon dog. “Oh. Shit.” She coughed again. “I’m sorry, okay? You don’t understand —”
“Understand this,” I said, my voice low and deadly. “Christopher and Paisley are under my protection. If killing you guarantees their safety, I won’t hesitate to do so.”
Samantha laughed harshly. “Please. You must have figured it out by now. We are you. You can’t kill us.”
I smiled nastily. “No, Tek5. Thanks to your idiotic kidnapping attempt, I just learned something very interesting …” I raised my hand, slowly curling my fingers inward, giving the magic of the blood tattoo on her T1 vertebra a slight tug.
She sucked in a shaky breath. “So? You can hurt me, so what? Killing me is completely different. It’s a death sentence.”
“Not for me,” I said mildly, dropping my hand. “But apparently, if I tear my magic from you, reclaim it for myself, it will be a death sentence for you.”
Samantha frowned. “You can’t …”
“What do you think I was just doing?”
Her mouth dropped open.
I turned away from her, kneeling and reaching for Paisley. The demon dog pressed her nose to my neck. She was shaking, wheezing. I smoothed my hands gently over her head, shoulders, and back, leaving a brush of my magic in my wake.
Paisley panted, leaning into me.
I brushed my hands over her again and again, gently amplifyi
ng her magic. Her healing ability.
“Shit,” the telekinetic groaned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d hurt her.”
Christopher helped Samantha to her feet, holding the bulk of her weight. “She’s part demon. You should have known her magic wasn’t compatible.”
“Socks is amplifying her.”
“Which part of ‘part demon’ don’t you understand?”
“Fuck. You have turned into an asshole.”
“You just tried to murder someone I love.”
Paisley stepped back from me, whirling to snarl viciously at Samantha.
She held her hands out. “I said I was sorry.”
“Not to her,” Christopher said.
“Fuck.” The telekinetic shook her head. She was holding herself oddly, as if her entire body hurt. “I’m sorry, Paisley. It was an honest mistake. And Socks made me pay for it, didn’t she?”
The demon dog snorted, turning away and trundling back to the house. Opal pulled away from Capri, reaching her arms out. Paisley climbed the stairs so the young witch could hug her.
So much for keeping the demon dog away from the witches.
“Was that … did she accept my apology?” Samantha asked. “And how about a boost for me, Socks?”
I straightened, walking back toward the house. “Go away, Samantha.”
“Well, that was an overreaction,” the telekinetic muttered to Christopher. “Are you going to help me find Bee or not?”
The clairvoyant sighed. “Just go … check into the Lake Cowichan Lodge in town. I’ll talk to Socks.”
I shut their quiet conversation out as I watched Ember step back into the house, her shoulders tight. Capri was still staring at me in open horror. Opal had her face buried in Paisley’s neck. Aiden stepped down the stairs toward me.
It was the blond witch’s expression that told me everything I needed to know. I had just taken down a stranger without touching her, without a spell or a weapon.
Capri Pine finally knew how dangerous I was.
And dangerous Adepts who had other random dangerous Adepts show up on their doorsteps didn’t get granted guardianship over teenaged witches. Even if the young witch in question wanted to stay.
So that was that.
It had been an idiotic notion anyway.
My magic churned around me ineffectually. Even amplifying Paisley hadn’t settled it. I needed a fight. I needed to pummel something, someone. I was in no shape to discuss anything with anyone, especially not if Capri Pine was in the same room.
Aiden strode off in the direction of the barn, his gaze still on me. I glanced back. Christopher was listening to something Samantha was saying. The telekinetic gestured with one hand while holding a piece of fabric to her bleeding nose.
She shouldn’t have still been bleeding.
I might have been the strongest among the Five, given my ability to steal, even if not always to wield, power from other Adepts. But all of us had been bred — genetically constructed — to be stronger, faster, and to heal quicker than regular magic users.
I hesitated at the stairs to the back patio, realizing my feet were freezing. But instead of putting on my boots for the last few steps into the house, I veered right, following Aiden.
The sorcerer was waiting at the base of the exterior stairs that led to the barn loft. His expression was still inscrutable, though he smiled tightly as I stepped toward him, pulled by some impulse I didn’t try to analyze.
“Pentagram,” he murmured, flicking his sharp gaze to where I could feel Samantha and Christopher approaching.
I stepped by him, climbing the stairs. He followed. I paused at the top landing, setting down my boots and gazing across the snow-covered garden. Aiden stood beside me. I clenched and unclenched my hands, wishing I were holding my blades.
I could feel Samantha’s gaze on me. I turned to watch her walk between the house and barn, trailing behind Christopher as he led her off the property. I assumed she’d parked on the main road, then had circled Aiden’s wards, looking for a weak spot. After spotting the sorcerer and the young witch, she had waited in the woods for the clairvoyant or me to pick up her presence.
Except something was wrong with her magic. I hadn’t even felt it until I’d been standing near the fence myself.
Samantha crossed from my line of sight, continuing up the drive and taking her bound power with her.
I rolled my shoulders, stopping myself from following her and taking my frustration out on her flesh. “I miss my blades,” I muttered to Aiden.
“I know.”
I met his steady gaze. “Did I scare you?”
He laughed quietly. “You amazed me, Emma.”
“I scared the damn witches. I …” My voice caught at the memory of Opal cowering in Capri’s arms. “I … scared Opal.”
He nodded, reaching to open the door to the loft. “Witches are easily flustered by any display of power. But I would argue your assessment of Opal’s reaction, though my assurances won’t matter as much as hers.” He pressed his hand lightly to the small of my back, coaxing me to step into the loft. “Let’s see if we can drain the excess energy you’re carrying into the pentagram before you try to sign any more documents.”
“Afraid the sight of me wielding a fountain pen will send the witches screaming from the house?”
He laughed quietly. “Unfortunately, we need their help right now. I don’t have any personal contacts anywhere near, not even for hire. I have a rough idea of the spell the sorcerers were trying to use in San Francisco. Let me set you up in the pentagram, then the witches and I will deal with cleaning up after my brother. It’s my responsibility. And you can deal with Samantha.”
I stepped into the loft obligingly, scrubbing a hand over my face. “That’s not going to work, Aiden. A spell, draining my energy into a pentagram or a magical vessel. My magic doesn’t work on …” My gaze fell on the neatly made bed to my left, centered under the windows. “… inanimate objects …”
Aiden shut the door behind us, flicking the lock. I stepped back into him, pressing my back to his chest. Tangling my fingers through his, I wrapped his arms around me.
He pressed a kiss to my temple, getting a mouthful of hair.
Magic shifted between us, through our entwined fingers, under my palms, across our forearms. “But there’s something else we could try,” I murmured.
“Oh yes?” His voice was husky. He dipped his head, lips finding the sensitive skin behind my ear. “Now?”
I guided his hands to my breasts, and he cupped them obligingly. But there were too many layers of clothing between us. “We’d need to be quick.”
“Since I didn’t even manage to get a single item of clothing off either of us the last time, I doubt that will be a problem.”
I spun around in his arms, already unzipping his jacket. “I mean quick … as in fast … hard …” I met his gaze, seeking his consent. “Aiden?”
He buried one hand in my hair, slamming his mouth over mine. And that was all the extra encouragement I needed. His desire shot through me — picked up by my empathy, instantly tripling my own need. I relaxed into it, loosening my tight hold on my magic, on my anger and frustration over Samantha’s appearance. Over losing Opal, and having my house invaded by judgemental witches. I let it all flow out of me.
Tongues thrusting and lips sucking, we removed jackets and coats, sweaters and T-shirts in a tangle of limbs and need. Magic was undulating all around us.
I tugged off my tank top, baring my breasts. Aiden groaned — a harsh, deep articulation of desire torn from him involuntarily. He leaned down, capturing a nipple in his mouth. But I twisted away to undo his pants, reaching into his boxers to stroke his hard length.
He moaned, hips bucking.
I captured his mouth with mine, kissing him deeply. “I don’t want to play. I just want to be with you.”
He made another noise deep in the back of his throat, agreeing. I shimmied out of my panties. He shucked the rest o
f his clothing. With only our mouths connected, I pulled us the three steps to the bed. I sat, then crawled back into the center.
He remained at the edge of the bed, watching me.
I lay back, bending my knees.
He swore in that archaic language with which he commanded magic, then switched to English. “Yes. Let me watch you.”
The magic laced through his words slid over me. I shivered, reaching up to cup my breasts and tease my own nipples. I’d never seen him fully naked before. He was the most beautiful person I’d ever laid eyes on. I never wanted to look away. But I needed to see him up closer.
“I want you in me,” I said. “Now, please.”
He grinned at me teasingly. “On top? Really?”
“Aiden!”
Laughing, he climbed over me, not actually touching me until he captured my lips with his, murmuring between kisses, “I’m not going to last without a condom or a rune, and I don’t know you well enough to make you orgasm in this position.”
I laughed, breathless with desire, reaching down for him, guiding him toward my center. “Aiden, I feel everything you feel. If you come, I’ll come.”
He pressed against me, against my core. I lifted my hips in one final invitation, aligning us.
He thrust once, twice, then all the way, gasping into my mouth.
Scoring his back lightly with my nails, I rocked my hips, matching his steady rhythm. Magic and desire and pleasure built between us — my empathy picking up his emotions and doubling everything I was feeling myself. I settled into the flow, melting into the bed, delighted to be pinned by his weight.
Aiden rose over me, propped on one arm, our upper bodies separated, slowing the pace. He teased the nipple of my right breast.
I groaned in disappointment.
He laughed, sliding his hand down my torso, slipping his thumb between my legs, trying to pleasure me.
I wrapped my legs around his lower back, pulling him off balance so I could grab his ass, then kiss him. “Aiden,” I demanded.
He moaned, increasing the pace. Then my empathy picked up the moment he finally and fully let go, riding his own pleasure to completion.
He cried out, convulsing over me.
I clung to him, letting his pleasure flood through me, triggering my own orgasm. Aiden collapsed on me. I wrapped my legs around him, savoring the lingering aftershocks.
Mystics and Mental Blocks (Amplifier 3) Page 6