Her heart ached for the longing in his voice, but she had no idea what to do for him.
“Do me a favor, Gen. Fight for him.” The tiger moved away, the floorboards creaking under his weight. “Now, unless I miss my guess, he’s out there in Fred’s meditation garden tormenting himself. Go out there and kiss him or something. I’m going to play Call of Duty.”
Genevieve blinked at him as he walked over to the television and the PlayStation that sat on the entertainment center beneath it. Manifesting two human arms, he turned on the system, picked up the controller and settled back on his haunches as it booted.
Genevieve watched him start shooting zombies, trying to work up her courage.
“Gen?” he said, without looking around.
“What?”
“Go neck. Or whatever.” His voice dropped to a mutter. “Lucky bastard.”
She laughed and headed into the kitchen, then opened the door into the back yard. As the door closed behind her, Genevieve took a deep breath, savoring the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass.
It was a lovely space, surrounded by a high wooden privacy fence lined with rose bushes and azaleas. A huge magnolia reigned over one corner, limbs spreading wide in a cloud of glossy oval leaves. In the spring, it would be covered in blossoms the size of saucers.
Beneath the great tree stood a lovely little water feature. A spring chuckled its way from a crown of stones, tumbling into a pool occupied by koi and water lilies.
Kurt sat on the ground beside the pool in the lotus position, his hands resting on his knees, palm up. His eyes were closed, his face not so much peaceful as expressionless. She knew it was more mask for his pain than anything else because there was a faint wet sheen on his cheeks.
He’d been crying. She wondered if it was for Fred or for himself.
Probably Fred. When things went wrong, Kurt’s instinctive reaction was to fight instead of whine.
Unlike, apparently, his mother, who’d complained because she’d found out about her ex-husband’s death from television news. The woman was an incredibly self-absorbed bitch.
Had she even told Kurt she was sorry his father was dead?
“You know, your mother could’ve gone to jail for what she did to you. You can get twenty years for felony magical influence.”
His eyes didn’t even open as he spoke, as if he’d known she was there. With his senses, he probably had. “It’s a pretty toothless law, almost impossible to prove.”
“Fred still could’ve brought charges against her.”
Finally Kurt opened his eyes. She almost wished he hadn’t; there was such pain in them. “She would have claimed he was lying to get back at her because she’d left him. A Bard’s magic doesn’t leave the kind of evidence an Arcanist’s does. No obvious effects on your aura. Besides, Fred would never have admitted he let her do anything like that to him or his child. It shamed him that he hadn’t realized what was happening.” He smiled slightly. “Dad took that whole King of the Jungle thing seriously.”
“I still can’t believe she did it. Even aside from FMI being both immoral and a felony, she took a big risk.”
“It never occurred to her he’d catch her. Even if he did, she probably figured she could sing her way out of it.”
Gen snorted. “Then she was definitely delusional. I’m good, but even I wouldn’t play that game.”
“You’re a hell of a lot smarter than Melody. And you’re not a bitch.”
“Flatterer.”
He looked thoughtful. “You’re also far more courageous than she ever was. Which is part of the reason I find you so attractive. Fear tends to bring out a predatory reaction in any cat, even a Feral, which we have to control. That gets incredibly exhausting after a while. But you don’t seem to fear me even when you should.”
She shrugged. “If anybody can be trusted to control himself, it’s you. Everybody has animal impulses, Kurt, including those of us who haven’t melded with big cats. One of my boyfriends had zero magic, but he scared me a hell of a lot more than you at your angriest.”
His vivid eyes narrowed, taking on a deadly glint. “Who was this asshole?”
“Don’t worry, I took care of him. The first time he tried it, I told him he’d never get another erection as long as he lived. I was bluffing -- I’d have gone to jail -- but he didn’t want to take the chance.”
“Hell, I don’t blame him. Still needed his ass kicked.”
“And he’d have gotten worse than that if my dad had found out about it. Fortunately, he was a cowardly little jerk, and I never saw him again.”
“I’m not surprised.” The curl of Kurt’s upper lip suggested he’d love to find her idiot ex- and hit him a few times himself.
And a small, unworthy part of Gen would have loved to watch.
Suddenly unable to sit still any longer, she rose to her feet and started wandering around the back yard. Pausing, she studied a neat flowerbed. “Is this a butterfly garden?”
Kurt rose, all muscular feline grace. “Yeah. One of Dad’s projects. Whenever he was feeling particularly stressed, he’d come out here and dig in the dirt.” He gazed around them, a half smile on his face. “It’s funny. BFS was his life’s work, but I feel his presence here more than anywhere else in the sanctuary.”
“I can see why.” Gen inhaled, drinking in the perfume of the flowers and the smell of the falling water. She’d always loved being in nature -- feeling the magic of life, of the ancient earth itself. She let her eyes slip closed to drink it all in.
The feeling was especially intense here, in the heart of BFS, with its plants and cats, with its spring-fed lake bubbling up from deep underground. There was such power here. She’d felt it when she laid the wards around the house. Such old, old magic. Magic she’d drawn on when she’d fought Indigo Ford.
The same magic Indigo drew on to cast that spell in the arena. An idea niggled at Gen’s consciousness, and she dropped to her knees on the ground. For a moment she hesitated, picturing those four strange sigils from the terrorist’s spell, the ones her mother hadn’t been able to identify.
Lips pursed, she sketched one of the four sigils in the rich, dark soil. As her finger moved through the Earth’s aura, she felt the turbulence the shape imposed on the magical field. Her heart began to beat faster, and she drew the next sigil in the series.
The sensation of turbulence increased. It reminded her of the feel of a key turning just before the lock clicks open.
Genevieve hesitated a moment, wondering if it was safe to do this.
Only one way to find out. She bit her lip and sketched the final sigil.
The power of the earth surged up through her finger and into her arm, up her spine, to spear into her brain in a blinding rush of magic. Genevieve sucked in a startled breath as the power stormed through her, more intense than anything she’d ever felt.
This is the key. This is how Indigo harnessed the Earth’s power. The terrorist had found a way to embed the sigils in the earth’s magical field.
Which suggested that the longer the spell was in place, the stronger it would grow as it burned its way into the earth’s aura.
Gen stared at the sigils as they rotated slowly in the air behind the darkness behind her closed lids. Hell, how did I manage to break the arena spell at all? She thought back to Indigo’s first attack on the house, when Gen had drawn on Dave’s power to reinforce the wards.
And then there was how making love to Kurt let her recharge her magical batteries.
She went still, soaking in the magic of the sanctuary as it rolled up through her knees. She could feel all the animals and plants around her, but it was more than that.
Lifting her eyes, Gen gazed up at Kurt’s house. Five generations of Ferals had lived there, working the land and raising Feral animals in intricate mystical rites.
BFS was a place of power.
Gen closed her eyes and looked at the rotating sigils. Flashes of imagery appeared in her mind, snippets of possibility.<
br />
When she opened her eyes again, she found Kurt watching her, frowning. “You just thought of something. I need to know what.”
“I think I know how we can turn the tables on the Wicked Bitch of the West.” Genevieve sprang to her feet and headed inside.
“You’re beginning to irritate me.”
She stopped to give him a brilliant smile. “I just figured out how Indigo made her spells so hard to break. What’s more, I know how we can put them to use.”
“I gathered that. My question is, are you going to share with the class?”
So she did.
Chapter Sixteen
An hour later, the sun was setting, painting the garden in shades of gold and rose. Kurt watched Genevieve as she moved around the garden perimeter, airbrushing sigils in preparation for the spell she’d described.
She looked so graceful, a slender, long-legged figure in shorts and a BFS T-shirt. Her shining mane of red hair curled around her shoulders, emphasizing the feminine strength of her features.
As she bent, the airbrush rumbling in her hand, her shorts drew tight over the smooth, lush curve of her ass.
He was as hard as a 2 x 4, his balls hot and tight, his zipper digging into the thick shaft of his erection. Stoli rumbled eagerly in the depths of his mind. His need only grew as she drew sigil after sigil, encircling them with magic.
Despite the throb of hunger, Kurt frowned, wondering how good an idea this really was. He didn’t doubt it was necessary. He’d survived the last fight with the bear only because of Jake. Otherwise they all would’ve been screwed. His friend had come entirely too close to getting killed as it was.
If the terrorists tried again in the next couple of days, Jake would be in no position to back Kurt up. Genevieve had greatly shortened the healing process, but he’d needed surgery for his shattered shoulder and collarbone. He’d be in the hospital through Wednesday, at least.
Being Jake, he also complained about being bored out of his mind. Kurt planned to pay him a visit in the morning, after he took Fred’s suit to Bobo Funeral Home.
The visitation was scheduled for tomorrow night, with the funeral the day after. Both events were likely to be hip deep in reporters and photographers who’d do their best to make a painful situation agonizing.
Genevieve stepped forward a pace, and bent again. He watched, trying to divert his attention from the ache of his grief. Dad, if this works, I’ll be able to avenge you.
If it worked.
Genevieve painted the last of the sigils on the grass, completing the circle. Turning, she moved to the circle’s center, where she’d laid out a BFS quilt one of the volunteers had made. She sank to her knees on the lion logo, as graceful as a geisha.
When she closed her eyes, Kurt felt her magic rise. Curious, he closed his own and saw her glowing softly behind his eyelids, straight and slender and lush.
Rose light gathered at the points of her breasts and between those long, lovely thighs. The color deepened as he watched, as if reacting to arousal. Glad I’m not the only one.
Her magic rolled over his skin, bringing every hair on his body to bristling attention. Stoli made a deep sound in his mind, the tiger equivalent of a purr, all rumbling pleasure and rising hunger. The currents of her magic on his skin grew warmer, a flush of heat that made his balls even heavier as his cock lay like a rifle barrel behind his zipper. Kurt moved forward before he had time to think better of it, craving a taste of her.
Her glow brightened. Different shades of pink and rose rolled over her glowing skin, currents swirling through her aura.
He caught a glow from his peripheral vision, and looked down. Stoli burned around him even without being fully manifested to the human eye.
Kurt swallowed with the hot rise of lust, craving the taste of her silken mouth. Those lush lips glowed as red as a Valentine heart against the pink of her aura.
He fought the impulse to reach for her, knowing it was a bad idea to touch someone when they were working magic. If you distracted them, they could lose control of the spell.
Gen’s eyes opened, glowing brilliant blue and turquoise against her aura. She looked up at him. She wanted him to kiss her. He could feel her need as vividly as Stoli’s.
Kurt bent, slipping his hand into the cool silk of her hair, the curls sliding over his fingers. He covered that glowing mouth with his own, tasting the hot femininity of hers, the blend of mint and ozone.
Her magic struck him like a blow, flaring through his aura. The sensation startled him, reminding him of the first time he’d touched Stoli’s consciousness, when they’d bound him and the cub.
Kurt would’ve pulled back, but Gen reached up and touched his face. He sucked in a breath against her mouth as her power surrounded him in a shimmering dance of sparks. His eyes flew wide.
Night had fallen in the time he’d had his eyes closed, though it had been twilight when he closed them. Sunset should have taken a good ten or fifteen minutes.
Yet now it was dark, and she glowed.
I lost time. Almost as if her spell did something to me… The thought sent a knee-jerk bolt of unease through him, but he ignored it. Genevieve was no Melody. She’d never betray him.
Gen leaned into him, licking and suckling his mouth, biting softly at his lips, his tongue. Her taste and scent flooded his consciousness like a storm surge cresting a levee.
He trusted her as he never trusted anyone, even the men he’d fought beside. More than Jake or Dave -- or even his father. As much as Kurt had loved Fred, he’d had a streak of ruthless bastard as wide as the Great Wall of China. Genevieve motivated him with her simple belief in him.
With her love.
She loves me. That thought rocked Kurt back on his heels so hard he would’ve fallen, but she straightened into him, bracing him with her slim body, arms coiling around his neck.
Her skin felt so hot, he’d have thought she was running a fever, if he hadn’t known it was the magic running under her skin. Sweat dewed her body, taking on an opalescent glow in the light of her magic.
She released his mouth, drawing back until she could see his face. “Make love to me.” He could feel the movement of her lips against his own, as if she kissed him with her speech.
“I love you.” He blurted it, voice hoarse, meaning every word.
The moment the sentence was out of his mouth, something in him panicked, fearing to be vulnerable as he’d been to the last woman he loved like this: his mother.
Stoli growled in the depths of his brain. Kurt had no difficulty whatsoever translating the tiger’s emotions: Don’t be an idiot.
And the cat was right.
Genevieve froze, looking up at him in wonder, her full lips parted. “I love you, too.”
He could read the truth of that in her aura, the hot rose glow spinning faster in currents of agitation and desire. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, his mouth covering hers, tongue thrusting, teeth nipping. Magic seemed to explode between them like fireworks against the sky.
In the depths of his brain, Stoli roared in triumph.
* * *
Kurt kissed Genevieve as if she were water and he was dying of thirst, claiming her with none of the hesitation he’d shown a moment before. Magic boiled around them -- hers, his, and Stoli’s, swirling together like a whirlwind. Her hair floated upward, born by those whipping currents.
That’s never happened before.
And then she couldn’t think anything else at all, because he grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and jerked it up over her head. She didn’t see where he threw it. The bra went next, his fingers hooking between her breasts to rip the silk as if it were cooked spaghetti.
One big palm cupped her right breast as he slid the other hand behind her back. Lifting her off her feet, Kurt bent her backward and lowered his dark head to the nipples that had ached since she’d begun casting the spell. His tongue lapped and swirled over and around one peak, as possessive fingers caressed the other.
Ge
nevieve gasped, her knees going weak, shivering in helpless need. She’d never known anything like this blend of magic, pleasure, and desire. The spell seemed to be enhancing the pleasure.
Her need built into a hard blaze that made her shudder. Sweat rolled along her skin as her pussy grew wet.
Kurt was just as affected, judging by the thick length of him pressing against her belly.
With a feline growl, Gen clawed the hem of his shirt upward. The minute her hand connected with bare flesh, their joined magic leaped like a bonfire sprayed with gasoline. They both gasped.
Growling softly, Kurt helped her drag the shirt off and toss it aside. His body gleamed like golden marble in the spell’s shifting light. Gen gathered the surging power and started feeding it to the spell, making the sigils glow even brighter.
He spilled her back onto the blanket, grabbed the snap of her shorts, flicked it open, and tugged down the zipper with a metallic whisper. Gen canted her hips upward so he could strip off her panties and shorts in one ruthless jerk.
Dropping them on the blanket, he fumbled for his belt buckle. She reached to help, her own hands shaking just as hard as his with magic and desire. At last they freed him of the belt, and stripped the briefs and jeans down his thighs, pausing only long enough to toe off his shoes.
Then his hot weight came down on top of her. As he caught himself on powerful arms, the thick muscle stood out in relief, corded shoulders limned in moonlight. He looked down at her, his eyes glowed, hot and bright.
Tiger eyes.
Kurt lowered himself until his muscled chest met her breasts, and the hard jut of his cock brushed her belly. They both gasped as magic burst through them with another hot flash.
He kissed her again, slow and sweet, his tongue entering her mouth in a wave of magic. He groaned at the sensation, and so did she, half blind with delight.
Everywhere they touched, the magic danced in iridescent flashes she could see even with her eyes open. “Well, the amplification spell is definitely working,” she gasped against his mouth.
Arcane Kiss (Talents Book 1) Page 21