Chasing Steel: Capturing Magic Books 1-3

by Jessica Sorensen

  When I open my mouth, that’s what I fully plan on saying, but then Ash suddenly captures my hand and tugs me toward the door that leads outside, throwing over his shoulder, “You guys start getting set up. I need to talk to Harlynn.”

  East gives him a strange, almost surprised look, but weirdly doesn’t say anything. And even weirder, I suddenly get this heated feeling inside my chest, glowing and warm, like something is melting inside me. Like maybe my heart.

  What the actual hell?

  “Is everything okay?” Asher asks as he glances at me.

  I nod evenly. “Yep. Everything’s just peachy.”

  He eyeballs me, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t press either, which is completely unlike him.

  I start to question if something’s up with him when the heat swells inside my chest, building and pressurizing like it’s about to explode out of me. But, by the time we step outside, it fizzles.

  Still, it feels strangely like magic, but a different kind of magic than what I’m used to. One that’s a lot more powerful. I can’t help thinking of the nightmare I had last night, where Asher’s father told me to destroy that world. The heat, it felt very similar to what I felt right before I was about to do just that.

  And I have this awful feeling in my gut that something terrible is about to happen, and I’m going to be the cause of it.

  Harlynn

  Asher surprisingly takes me outside. It’s been some hours since I’ve stepped foot out of the world traveling vehicle, so the bronze glow illuminating from the ground, mechanical trees, and shimmering sky burns my eyes. After several blinks, my eyes adjust.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as Asher steers me around to the front of the vehicle. Then he stops there, releasing my hand to yank his fingers through his hair as he stares out at the land.

  “I think I need to be honest with you.”

  “Okay. Honest about what?” Uneasiness stirs inside me. “And why are you acting so weird about it?”

  His shadowy eyes lock on me. “Because it’s not in my nature to be honest.”

  He’s right. Genies are rarely honest, but I think I’ve already established that Asher isn’t your typical genie.

  I recline against the front of the vehicle. “Well, now that you brought it up, you have to tell me.”

  His gaze burns into mine. “Do I?”

  I nod. “Yep.”

  He forcefully presses his lips together, as if he’s struggling to remain calm. “You know, no one has ever gotten underneath my skin like you can.”

  “That’s not the first time someone has said that to me,” I inform him. “And I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

  “Yeah, but …” He steps toward me, his boots scuffing against the bronzed polish ground. “I’m not sure if I think it’s bad or not.”

  “Me getting underneath your skin?” I question dubiously. “Because, usually, it seems like I’m annoying you.”

  “Oh, you do annoy me,” he assures me. “But it’s a different kind of annoyance than I’m used to.” He chews on his bottom lip. “In fact, sometimes I crave it.” He takes another step toward me, his boots bumping into mine.

  The way he’s looking at me, it makes my skin crawl, and that heat in my chest begins to sear again.

  I look away from him, my heart pounding in my chest. “That’s kind of fucked up.”

  “Well, I’m kind of fucked up.” He places his hand against my cheek and forces me to look at him. “We all are, really.”

  He’s right. Every creature and human out there is fucked up in their own fucked-up way, which is a lot of fucks.

  I nod in agreement, the movement shaky, though I don’t know why. Or maybe I do and just don’t want to admit it.

  He’s touching me again.

  And looking at me with heat in his eyes.

  And that heat is spreading through my chest.

  “So, why did you bring me out here?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject and hopefully put a simmer on this heat kissing the air and my skin.

  He blinks, as if he completely forgot why. “Right.” He pauses, a crease forming between his brows. I expect him to step back then, but he doesn’t. “I need to tell you what’s going to happen tonight, but before I do, I want you to know we won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Okay …” I say warily. “I thought you guys were just having a party to steal a soul so we can steal the steel books and find out what I am.”

  “Actually, if tonight works out the way we hope, we might not have to steal the steel books.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  He eyes me over curiously. “Why do you seem so sad about that fact?”

  “I’m not,” I lie.

  “You are,” he reads right through my bullshit.

  I don’t want to tell him. Tell him that I was looking forward to impressing the three of them with my awesome thieving skills. I’ve been relying on them so much that it was going to be nice to be useful for once

  “I was just looking forward to stealing,” I tell him a half-truth. “That’s all.”

  His eyes search mine. “While we might not be stealing the books anymore, the role you’re going to play tonight will help us out tremendously.”

  It’s like he can read my thoughts, which is very, very unnerving. Being able to read someone either means he can read minds or he’s been observing me enough that he’s starting to pick up on my little ticks. And since I know genies can’t read minds, it has to be the latter.

  I try to clear my expression of all emotion, but I’m pretty sure I miss the mark.

  “Okay, what will I be doing?”

  He hesitates for a moment. “We need you to be … bait.”

  I crinkle my nose. “Bait for what? The incubus’s soul you’re gonna steal? Because I’m fine with that. I just thought East said he didn’t want me doing it.” He didn’t want me to have to try to seduce a creature so soon after the incident with Yellow. And I’d been oddly touched when he said it. So much so that I had to leave the room so I could cry.

  “It’s not for that,” he assures. “For now, we’re not focusing on trying to steal the books.”

  “Right,” I say. “Okay, then what am I bait for?”

  Again, reluctance flashes across his face. “We want to lure Maple out of her hiding spot.”

  My eyes widen. “Maple, as in the half-genie that’s related to you and tried to capture me with Maxton?”

  He heaves an exhausted sigh. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but if we can get ahold of Maple, then we can find out what you are, why my father wants you, and how to break your curse.”

  While I hate the idea of seeing Maple again, if they did capture her, he could find out all those things. Still …“How do you plan on capturing her?” I wonder.

  “Leave that to us. What we need from you is to go to this party, and we’ll make it known that you’re there. More than likely, Maple is going to show up and try to kidnap you so she can take you to my father.” He cups my face between his hands and looks me straight in the eye. “But I want to stress two things. One, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. I know how you feel about being around genies.”

  Again, I’m touched. They’re always so worried about how I’ll feel.

  “I don’t feel that way about all genies,” I find myself saying without any forethought. The moment the words leave my lips, I want to retract them.

  Then he starts to grin, and I mentally start kicking my own ass.

  “I didn’t mean you,” I lie, and it’s probably the stupidest and worst lie I’ve ever told.

  “Liar,” he mocks, but his eyes don’t match his playful tone.

  No, his eyes are swirling with smoke.

  My heart begins to thunder in my chest so forcefully I can barely breathe.

  “What’s …? What’s the other thing you wanted to tell me?” I manage to get out in a shaky tone that makes me cringe.

  He looks me straight
in the eye. “The other thing is that I want to make sure you understand that, if you do this, I promise that East, Arrow, and I will make certain nothing happens to you.”

  “You can’t promise that,” I whisper.

  “I can promise whatever the hell I want.”

  I smash my lips together, unfamiliar emotions stirring inside me. Never has anyone looked out for my wellbeing like this.

  “I don’t … Why …? Why are you doing this?”

  His brows furrow. “Doing what?”

  “Helping me. Trying to figure out how to break the curse.” Deep down, I know why. He just doesn’t know I know. I want him to admit it. Admit that he’s been cursed, too, with the same curse I have.

  But all he says is, “Because we want to help you and take down my father.”

  His avoidance to tell me the truth causes something to shatter inside me. More like, snap.

  “I know,” I find myself telling him. “I know about the curse.”

  He stares at me like I’m being stupid. “I know you know. It’s your curse.”

  I give him the same look back. “No, I know about your curse.”

  A heartbeat of a moment ticks by, and then the color drains from his face. I didn’t know that could happen to a genie.

  “I don’t know … How …?” He sucks in a gradual breath then leans forward, placing a hand on each side of my head and trapping me between his arms. “How did you find out?”

  I honestly thought he was going to try to lie his way out of this.

  “I overheard you guys talking, like, my second day with you,” I say with a shrug.

  He gapes at me. “And you didn’t say anything until now?”

  I shrug again. “It didn’t seem important at the time.”

  He intensely carries my gaze. “And it does now?”

  I shake my head then shrug for the third time in the last minute. “No … I don’t know …” I bite down on my tongue so I’ll just stop talking.

  He stares at me questioningly, and I wait for him to ask something, although I’m not sure I’ll give him truthful answers. Then his lips abruptly come crashing down onto mine.

  I gasp, and my first instinct is to lean back. But then warmth—his warmth—spreads through me, and I end up leaning in. He groans as I do, then he sweeps his tongue into my mouth. He pauses for a split-second, and I think he’s going to pull back like he always does, but then he’s kissing me. Like, really kissing me, his movements out of control and almost sloppy, but it doesn’t bother me. No, my dumbass falls into the kiss, all thoughts of why I shouldn’t be doing this—kissing him—vacating my mind.

  He eventually slows down and, again, I think he’s going to pull away. He doesn’t, though, just slowly kisses me, branding his lips against mine as he lets his hands wander to my hips. Then he delves his fingers downward, digging into the fabric of my dress and causing the hem to ride up. I should reach down and tug it down—my legs are so exposed—but my dumbass lifts my leg up and hitches it over his hip.

  He moans, biting down on my bottom lip and causing me to whimper. Then he trails his fingers down my hip to my thigh, bare skin to bare skin.

  His skin is so warm, is the first thought I have, followed by this weird butterfly sensation fluttering in my stomach. And that sensation only gets more fluttery as he slides his fingers underneath my dress, traveling up my leg to cup my ass.

  My heart slams against my chest.

  Holy shit. Holy shit. Asher is touching my ass.

  I should stop this.

  Stop this now, Harlynn.

  “I should stop, right?” he whispers against my lips, apparently on the same thought wave as me.

  No, Harlynn. Say yes.

  But all I do is kiss him, fusing my lips against his and slipping my tongue into his mouth.

  A shudder rolls through his lean body as he grips my ass, pulling me flush against him and grinding his hips against mine.

  Memories of the last time we did this flicker through my mind. It was right after the thing happened with Yellow. Asher had put a stop to the kiss when I started to cry and told me I was trying to cover up what I was feeling. And I was. Right now, though, all I feel are those fluttery butterflies, the warmth of his hand, the hardness of him, and this sparkle ticking across my skin. I have no fucking idea what that is, but it feels so good.

  He grinds his hips against mine again, and the sparkle turns to sweltering, wonderful heat that spreads through me like magic. And maybe that’s what it is—his magic. But I’ve tasted and felt his magic before, and this feels different. It feels more potent, more out of control, more within me.

  I loop my arms around him and clutch on to him, feeling like I might combust. He lets out a helpless groan as my fingernails scratch his flesh, and then his lips leave mine. But he doesn’t stop moving his hips against mine, finding a rhythm. A wonderful rhythm as he looks me in the eyes, his eyes nothing but shadows. Dark, twirling, desire-filled shadows—

  I cry out as that heat in my body reaches an explosive temperature, and my fingernails pierce his flesh as I try to hold on to it. Eventually, however, it fades into a fading flame.

  And without it, reality comes crashing down on me.

  Oh my gods, I think I just had my first orgasm.

  With Asher.

  And with Asher right after Arrow kissed me.

  And I kissed East.

  I’m turning into one of their aftershow women.

  Asher is all riled up and doesn’t seem to notice my panicked state emerging. “That was …” He breathes heavily then kisses me, softly but with a purpose. When he draws away, however, he takes in my expression and frowns. “Shit … I said I was going to wait until you wanted it, but …” He searches my eyes, and his frown etches deep into his lips. “You weren’t ready, were you?”

  His concern warms me before reality throat punches the cold right back into my body.

  “I can’t …” I remove my leg from his hip and duck underneath his arm. Then I hurry around the world traveling vehicle with every intention of going into my room and locking the door so I can no longer do stupid things, but he captures my arm before I make it to the door. I’m not surprised. This is totally his MO. Just like it’s my MO to try to jerk away. He lets go, which is definitely not his MO. Then he hurries around in front of me and blocks the door.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice sounds calm, but his gaze is flooding with all sorts of emotions. “I thought you wanted it, but I clearly misread the situation.”

  I cross my arms, feeling like the biggest dumbass to ever exist. I mean, I’ve spent years talking about how disgusting I find the whole aftershow women and men thing, and now, here I am, kissing three different band members on the same day! And I let one give me my first orgasm.

  Stupid orgasms. They make me stupid.

  Okay, I take that back. They’re not stupid. I’m just stupid.

  I look at Asher, at his worried expression. He clearly feels bad about what happened and, while I hate admitting it, he shouldn’t. I wanted it. I shouldn’t have wanted it, but I did. Which is becoming the story of my life.

  “You didn’t misread the situation,” I admit, unable to look him in the eyes. “I just messed up.”

  When he says nothing, I turn my head to look at him.

  His eyes are on me, and his lips are pressed together as he assesses me.

  “Can I ask why you feel that way?” he asks cautiously.

  I don’t want to tell him—I really don’t—but maybe, if I do, he’ll stop looking at me like I’m going to break. Because I’m not going to break. I am strong.

  “I’m not an aftershow woman,” I say in the most confident tone I can muster. “I know I’m going to be pretending to be one tonight at the party but, in real life, I can’t be one.”

  “I know that.” He angles his head to the side in confusion. “Why are you saying this?”

  “I don’t know …” I grow flustered at saying my thoughts aloud, and that pisses me
off. After all this kissing and grinding I’ve been doing, you’d think I’d gotten past my embarrassment over talking about sexual things aloud. Apparently, even orgasms don’t magically cure that.

  Woman up, Harlynn. You need to get over this.

  “It just seems like, with all the kissing and touching that’s been going on with all of you, that I’m starting to take on that title.” I release a shaky breath. “Not that I’m blaming you guys. My dumbass is the one making all of the bad choices. But I’m going to stop now.” No matter how good it feels. “Because I’m not going to be the band’s whore for reals.”

  “How many times have I told you that no one looks at you like that?” he says in a shaky tone, like he’s struggling not to grow angry with me.

  “I know, but it just feels like I’m starting to take on the role.”

  His gaze sears into mine. “Why? Just because we all kissed you, doesn’t mean we think of you as our whore.” He steps toward me. “It’s not unnatural with paranormals to fall in love with multiple creatures. Humans are the ones that are so unsettled about that. But humans are unsettled by almost everything.” Another step toward me. He’s close enough now that he can touch me. And he does, hooking a finger under my chin and angling my head up toward him. “Can I ask when did Arrow kiss you?”

  “In the shower this morning,” I mumble.

  “You took a shower with him?” I can’t tell if he’s irritated or just thrown off by my statement.

  “We weren’t showering,” I stress. “He was trying to help me turn on the shower, but he couldn’t figure it out, and then all this water was spewing out of the floor, and we slipped, and our lips … Anyway.” I clear my throat as my cheeks start to warm. “It doesn’t even matter. He stopped it, took off, and then apologized.”

  “Did he?” Asher mumbles with a curious expression. “And what about when East kissed you?”

  This one is a bit harder to admit because …“He didn’t kiss me,” I say quietly. “I kissed him. But only because he used his magic to heal my eye, and my brain went a little fuzzy for a moment.”

  “Your brain went a little fuzzy for a moment?” He appears amused by this, which I find a little odd after I just confessed to him that I made out with both of his friends. Then again, they share aftershow women all the time, something East has told me countless times.