“You’re killing her!”
“No,” Hazel croaked, wincing as the movement caused the blade to cut into her skin.
“No? Why won’t she open her fucking eyes then!” The rough voice growled into her ear. “Wake her up!”
“Drop your weapon!” The Trappers were surrounding them, lethal looking guns drawn, all pointing at Hazel and the witch who held her. “Drop the blade or we’ll shoot.”
“You can’t, you’ll hit Hazel!” Mahdyia said.
“You can’t!” The witch laughed, mockingly, raising his hand to brandish a flame. “You can’t get close enough to save her. It’s too late for all of you!”
Hazel felt the heat of it, smelled the singeing of her hair. She could hear and feel the magic building in the Trapper’s weapons as well. They’d take the shot, kill her to spare the rest. She wondered if her destiny really was up to interpretation.
“Drop your weapon, dissolve that spell!” the lead Trapper bellowed, trigger finger twitching.
“Don’t shoot!” Bas stepped in front of the Trappers, blocking Hazel from their line of sight. He had his hands up. “I can help.” He turned before getting a reply, only glancing at Hazel for a second before focusing on the witch who held her.
“Fredrick, right?” Bas still held his hands up. “I worked on you, over there.” He pointed toward the ground where a sleeping bag was still laid out, where Chanda stood clutching her arm. She’d been hurt somehow, probably when Fredrick woke to find himself free of his collar. “I healed you. Me and the other Healers here, we aren’t out to hurt you. We’re here to help you.”
“Wake her up!” Fredrick screamed. His movement brought the fire closer, making Hazel feel like her face was burning.
Where was Duke? She shifted her eyes, trying to find him.
“We can’t, not yet,” Bas said.
“You lie!” With another roar, Fredrick launched his ball of fire.
Bas maneuvered out of the way. The Trappers ducked. The fireball exploded against one of the stones. Magic splattering like it was filled with gel, flames sticking. To get that on your skin would be devastating. Everyone seemed to realize it at the same time.
“Get down, now!” The Trappers screamed, weapons raised.
Bas jumped forward, his lips moving, his eyes set on Fredrick. Hazel felt his spell launch, she felt it strike her like a sticky web, enveloping her, dosing her magic until it was only a muted flame and then nothing.
Fredrick screeched then let her go in a frenzy of movement, trying to pull the webbing off of himself.
Hazel stumbled to her knees, hands in the dirt, the Trappers moving in. And then Duke was there, practically covering her with his body, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
Fredrick was screaming, whether from Bas’s spell or the reality that he was being collared again. Either way, he was incensed.
“You okay, Hazel?” Duke panted into her ear, his voice quivering slightly.
She pushed herself up to her knees, flexing her arms to get him to let her go. “I’m not hurt,” she said.
He sat back too, letting her go so he could stand.
Mahdyia was standing above, worry etched on her face. “You sure, Hazel?”
Hazel looked around. Bas was watching her, gauging her reaction no doubt. “I can’t feel anything.” It was disorienting. “I think…I think I’ve been bound.”
She’d never felt anything like it. No pulse of magic beating at her or humming through her.
“It won’t last forever,” Bas said. “You’ll be fine by morning.”
“It’s so...so…sticky!” Not in the literal sense, but magically speaking, it was like super glue.
“I drew on your magic and his, Fredrick, to wield it. Custom made. Works better that way.”
Hazel was impressed and also kind of disturbed. It was so quiet all of a sudden in her head.
“You cast a binding spell? On Hazel?” Mahdyia looked ready to explode as she turned on him. “Are you some kind of idiot? Do you know what you’ve done?”
“No, Mads, it’s okay.” Hazel looked from Mahdyia to Duke. “I’m okay, really.” She tried to stand but her legs were wobbly. After a failed attempt, she let Duke help her up, leaning on him once she was on her feet. “He did what he had to do. No harm done.”
“Your powers though!” Mahdyia was at her other side now, propping her up, checking her out. “He had no right! It was reckless.”
“It’s okay, Mads.” Hazel touched heads with her cousin. “I’m okay. It feels…” She looked at Bas again. “Peaceful once you get used to it.” She laughed at the idea of that. No pressure. No expectation. “Thank you for that.” She nodded at Bas and didn’t exactly know if she was thanking him for saving her life or thanking him for giving her freedom, if only for a few hours.
He wasn’t sure about her, she could tell from his narrowed stare. She smiled and tried to convey gratitude. He nodded then turned away, walking over to Chanda and Tate.
“We’ve got this,” the lead Trapper said as he hauled Fredrick up by the collar. “She’s had enough healing time. Wake her up and get her on her feet.” He pointed to the other witch, Delilah, who was only now starting to rouse. They collared her immediately while she was still disoriented and pliable, not wanting to have another explosive situation, Hazel was sure. Delilah wasn’t totally healed but no one argued with the Trappers. Delilah was well enough to make the journey. The Healers at the Scrub would tend to her there.
Hazel rubbed the side of her face. Dizziness struck her suddenly, her head spinning. “I think I need to lie down,” Hazel said. She meant for Mahdyia to hear her and do something about it, but it was Duke who responded.
“I’ll get you to your tent.”
And there was no argument. Not from Hazel or from Mahdyia. Just Duke leading her away from the stones that she couldn’t feel, and away from the witches that she couldn’t sense.
Bliss. Silence. And yes, peace.
Duke had to practically carry her up the hill. She was giggling by the time he got her to her tent.
“You okay?” His frown was deep, making him look intensely concerned.
“I’m…I’m great!” Hazel giggled again. “I can’t feel anything! For the first time in my life. I mean, it’s weird, sure, to not have any power but it’s so…so…quiet.”
He was looking down at her, she was looking up, their bodies close, his arms around her suddenly, hand splayed on her back, the other in her hair. She tilted her head, locked eyes with him.
His eyes were smoldering. Burning her up with the heat of his lust.
“Kiss me,” she said, lifting herself on her tip toes. “Kiss me, now!”
“Hazel,” he groaned and then pressed his lips to hers. Gentle at first, tender, soft.
Her body zinged and when he started to pull back, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him down. Fierce passion exploded through her, her lips devouring his, tongue entangled with his. Swirling, tasting, sucking, moaning as they tumbled into her tent.
She couldn’t get his clothes off fast enough, getting tangled in her own in the process. Naked was good. Her skin was so sensitive, responding to his hands, his lips. She licked her way up his chest, circling his nipples, nipping then soothing. She slid her body against Duke’s, feeling his muscles tense, his hands moving to her hips, his cock jerked up to greet her as she rolled herself back up to sit on top of him, then sheathed herself to the hilt.
She liked riding him. Loved how he felt under her. How his hands moulded to her breasts, tweaking her nipples, cupping her flesh. She pumped him fast, abrading her clit with each stroke, a delicious sensation, the pulse of her rising orgasm making her moan long and low, her eyes closed, head tilted back.
He rolled her, so her legs were over his shoulders, ankles to ears, his hands on her hips as he drove into her harder, faster, going as deep as her body would allow, his balls smacking her ass, his expression fierce. Claiming her. Marking her. She shivered and closed her eyes against it.
Too much…too much.
She couldn’t stop the wave of her climax from cresting, not when he was driving so deep, stroking so relentlessly. She couldn’t stop the flashes of ecstasy as he erupted into her, plunging until every last spasm was wrung from her body and his.
He stared down at her, letting her legs slide from his shoulders, his hands guiding her feet to the floor, his semi-hard cock still buried deep, still pulsing.
His eyes sparkled like they always did, looking stunning. “You are—”
She flexed her hips, rolling her pussy along his cock, interrupting whatever he was about to say.
His eyes flashed wide, then hooded immediately, his train of thought no doubt lost.
She fingered her nipples, flicking as he had done, watching as lust fell on his face, his eyes hungry for her.
His hands were on her hips again and he flipped her around, barely breaking contact as he did. Plunging back into her from behind, deep thrusts that had her moaning all over again, lost in the sensation of being fucked good and hard.
How could she have ever thought she’d had enough of this man? How could she survive a lifetime without him?
He reached forward to cup her breasts, holding them tight in his palms while he drove into her, his body covering hers so that all she could feel, all she could smell, all she could hear, was him.
With one hand bracing her weight, she ran her other hand down to her pussy, forking her fingers around his cock as he thrust, giving him more friction so that he groaned louder with each stroke. Squeezing her tits harder until he finally released her, pinching down to her nipples, flicking the hard points until she was crying out the same way.
She moved her hand up, fingers pressed into her clit, rubbing until her climax rose again—wisps at first, a slow delicious rise that made her want to squirm away from its intensity.
His cock stiffened more, his thrusts became urgent, his need palpable, matching hers. She cried out as her orgasm rammed her, his following close behind. Pumping her full of his cum until all she could do was collapse to the floor, wrung out, spent and giggling once again.
“What’s so funny?” He pulled out of her then laid down, taking her in his arms as he did, breathing heavy as he pressed his lips to her forehead
“You and your empathness.” She giggled again. “I just realized that’s why it always feels so damn good. So damn impossibly good. It’s your magic.” Of course he could make her feel that way—his powers were all about stoking those emotions, feeding into them. Just like Mahdyia had said, he was honey to her bee.
He kissed her again, then pulled back so she could see his eyes. “You feel your own magic back?”
Hazel frowned, confused. She tested her powers. Nothing. “Nope.” She giggled again before nestling into his chest with a sigh. “Blissfully silent.”
There was a pause. Just his breathing and his heart thundering. Lulling her to sleep.
“Then it’s impossible for you to be influenced by my magic. The binding would prevent that from happening. My magic only works on you if it’s got a source to connect with.”
Her eyes flew open wide. What?
He gripped her harder so she couldn’t rise, capturing her in his embrace.
“So you can’t say it’s not real,” he whispered into her hair.
Okay, that threw her. Big time.
She tried to poke holes in it. Tried to will her magic back so she could prove that she had a spark of something that he could stoke. But there was nothing. No way to prove him wrong. Her thoughts swirled for hours and all the while she couldn’t bear to rise from his embrace. She kept her head on his chest and listened to his heart thunder away.
Exhaustion won though and somehow she managed to fall asleep. But while she was sleeping, she was dreaming about her mother and the Circle and chasing something…something that was just out of her reach.
She’d woke in a panic, surprised that Duke didn’t stir. She took it as a sign to get out of there.
Her powers were back. She felt the zing of the magic around her, including Duke’s. The peace she had felt the night before had vanished and rather than sit there staring at his gorgeous body, mulling over his words and how they made her feel, she slipped out, washed up and put her clothes on.
She fingered her mother’s amulet, the stone smooth under her thumb. She’d put it back on to remind herself of obligation, of duty. She slipped it under her tank top, hated the cold feel of it against her skin.
It was early enough that the others hadn’t stirred, the sun just cresting the horizon, the night’s chill still frosting the grass.
She sucked in a deep lungful of crisp air and sat quietly on the stone slab altar. It had been nice to be without powers for a bit but to go permanently without them was not something she craved. Her powers were threaded through her being, part of her personality. Without them, she’d acted impulsively, irresponsibly.
What Duke had said was also problematic for her. So the passion was real. Fine. Her feelings not influenced by his magic. Fine.
No, it wasn’t fine. She sighed. What she felt for him was not fine. It was distracting. It was powerful. It conflicted with everything she thought she understood. And yet, it felt so right. So damn good.
She didn’t believe in soul mates. That was always just fairy tale and fantasy. She didn’t love him.
But she sure did like him a lot. Like a lot a lot.
“I won’t put that in my report.” Bridget came up from behind, two steaming cups in her hands.
She startled Hazel out of her thoughts. “Um, what?”
Bridget offered her a cup then sat down next to her on the stone. “What happened last night. I won’t put that in my report to your mother.”
Hazel took a sip of the tea, peppermint with honey. It slid down her throat, giving her a pleasant burn all the way to her stomach. “Oh yeah, with the Fire witches? Right, better to keep Mother in the dark on that.”
Bridget snorted into her cup. “Well, that and Healer Hart, right?” She nudged Hazel.
Hazel sputtered her next sip.
“Oh don’t get me wrong, I totally get it. Did get it, in fact, back in the day.” She winked at Hazel, grinning. “So I know he’s too fine a male specimen to pass up.” She patted Hazel’s knee before standing. “Don’t worry about your mother finding out. What happens in the field, stays in the field. This is your time to enjoy yourself and I won’t be the one to roadblock that.”
Hazel’s heart was thundering. She struggled to keep her face neutral. “You and Duke…”
“Oh yeah, years ago.” Bridget chuckled, waving her hand in dismissal. “We had a thing when he was an intern. No worries, I get it.” She winked again. “So have fun!”
Hazel had a frozen smile on her face. Frozen like frosty and firmly held as she watched Bridget walk away.
She’d had a thing with Duke? A thing with Duke?
Hazel tossed her tea out of the cup to splatter to the ground.
Funny that Duke had never said a word to Hazel about that.
Not haha funny either.
Hazel stood from the stone. She put her cup down where she’d been sitting. Brushed her clothing for twigs or dirt or whatever, squared her shoulders, and then headed to her tent. Where Duke was.
She didn’t like that he’d been with Bridget. And she didn’t like that she didn’t like that.
15
She didn’t like the taste of jealousy in her mouth, or the feel of it in her heart.
Vulnerability was a weakness she didn’t have time for.
So she stopped her trek to the tent. Stopped herself cold.
“Morning, Hazel,” Tate said. He was starting to dismantle his tent. “You sleep okay?”
Hazel nodded. “Yes, I did.” She frowned as her brain circled around a sudden plan. “Hey, Tate, can I ask you something?”
Tate stopped what he was doing. “Sure thing. Shoot.”
Duke had asked her once if she was so
secretive because she had another lover. If there was someone else keeping her from him. That was before he’d known who she was, who her mother was, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t apply now.
Hazel moved closer to Tate. “You know what’s been going on with Du-Healer Hart?”
“The unwanted attention?” Tate gave a knowing look. “Oh yeah, I can see it. I’ve been trying to keep him from getting to you. Sorry that I haven’t been on it as much. Things got crazy last night.”
Hazel rested her hand on his forearm and leaned into him. “I appreciate your help. I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping me a bit longer? I mean, while we’re on the field trip.”
Tate’s eyes were wide, his cheeks growing red. “Of course, anything you need.”
“Well,” Hazel said. “If you and I pretended…uh…you know…”
“To be interested in each other?”
“Well, yeah, I mean, just so that Healer Hart gets the message. I think if he thought I was interested in someone else…”
Tate was nodding with her words. “Brilliant idea! I’m totally on board.”
“You don’t mind?” Hazel winced. “It’s just pretend.”
He smiled and patted her hand. “I know you have an important destiny, Hazel. I’m honored to be your friend and happy to help.”
Hazel beamed, problem solved. “Thanks, Tate!” She stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, or meant to anyway. Tate turned his head so that their lips brushed. “Oh!”
Tate’s face went scarlet. “Hehe, sorry.” He shrugged. “Better for the show though, right?”
Hazel’s face was hot too. She nodded. “Better for the show.”
“Hazel!” Duke’s voice echoed from across the stones. “Can I speak with you over here?”
Tate smirked down at her. “Uh oh!” He winked. “You need me to step in?”
Hazel smiled back, shook her head. “I’ll handle it.”
She met Duke halfway, ready for battle. Far enough away from the group that they wouldn’t hear the argument, not far enough that they wouldn’t see it though.
“So you leave my bed and immediately go off and flirt with another guy?” Duke was fuming, his nostrils actually flaring.
The Witches of White Willow Page 12