Feline the Flames (The Firehouse Feline Book 2)

by L. A. Boruff

  "You're full of surprises." I can tell he wants to push for more information, but he'll respect my boundaries.

  The time is coming when I'm going to have to come clean about my past and my former association with people who would consider us their enemies. But it isn't now. It can wait until Will's here too and Callie has had less to drink.

  “I want to..." Her words fall away, pulling both of our attention back to her.

  I rise to my feet. "I think it's time to get you to bed," I say.

  "I can stay up."

  "No, Callie, you can't," Hank says. "You've been awake too long. But you don't have to worry, the house is warded, and we'll be awake guarding the place."

  "Okay." She sways again.

  A sappy smile spreads across my face. This woman is getting to me unlike anyone ever has.

  “Come on, let's get you upstairs." I try to put my shoulder under her arms, but she's either more exhausted, or drunker than I thought, as it doesn't work.

  Resorting to a tactic I know won't fail, I scoop Callie up into my arms and carry her from the room. I don't say anything to Hank, though I'm sure he'll have questions for me once I get back. That hardly matters. He'll respect my wishes when I tell him I want to wait until everyone is around.

  I climb the stairs, being careful not to bang Callie's head against the walls as I go.

  Her bedroom is sparser than I expect it to be, with nothing more than a few scattered personal items and the furniture. I guess it's because she moved around a lot before coming to Blackwater. Maybe that'll change now she has some roots here. So long as we don't get ourselves killed before she can.

  "Do you want me to get you anything?" I ask.

  "Water?" she suggests sleepily.

  I chuckle. It must be bad if she's asking for it even before sleep.

  "I'll get some in a moment." I lay her down in the bed, and pull the covers up to her chin.

  There's a glass on her nightstand and a water bottle next to it.

  Perfect, I don't have to go searching around her house for one. The water sloshes into the glass, rousing her from her sleep for a moment.

  "It's okay, we've got you. Sleep now." On impulse, I lean over and kiss her forehead.

  "You'd be one of them, right James?" she murmurs.

  I guess she's talking about one of three mates, but I'm not sure. It doesn't matter though. I’ll tell her the truth. This woman has a hold on me that I can't explain.

  "For you, I'll be anything," I promise, though I don't think she hears me as she snores seconds later.

  I shake my head in bemusement and stare down at her captivating face.

  She's changed everything. And not just for the witches. Things will never be the same for me ever again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Callie

  It’s late when I spring from my dream, crying hysterically. I press my hand to my mouth and try to keep my tears silent. There were so many moments in my life where I wanted to be held while I cried, but this isn’t one of those moments. Right now, I need something else.

  My gaze goes over my darkened room, and I spot my bag with the book in it. Giving a silent thanks to whichever guy brought it upstairs, I move to my bag and yank the book out, then dig until I find my phone.

  Not thinking about the fact that it’s barely two in the morning, I dial the familiar number, then hold my breath.

  After a few rings, a tired voice comes over the line. “Hello.”

  Instantly, I curse myself. I shouldn’t have called him. He told me that we weren’t really family when his family threw me out, but Parker had always been the closest thing I had to family.

  “I’m sorry I called,” I say.

  He’s quiet for a long minute, his breathing even. “It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

  I wipe the tears from my face. “I was just thinking about that day. About Papa.”

  Again, I feel immediate regret. He’s the only person who was there that night, but he doesn’t understand what I feel, because he blames me for what happened.

  “What about him?” Parker says, sounding a little more awake.

  I struggle to find the words. “About how he died.”

  More silence. “Grandpa said you stole food. He said he was going to beat you with that belt. He had you by the arm, his belt in one hand, and you were screaming and crying.”

  “I’d never been that scared in my life,” I say, heart racing.

  “And then he died.” Parker finishes, a coldness washing over his words.

  “But.” I choose my words with care. “You said I killed him. That you saw a glow or—”

  “My therapist said that never happened,” he says, cutting me off. “She said that you were just a little girl. That you were the victim, and that I need to stop blaming you for what happened.”

  It’s true. That day was one of the worst of my life. I didn’t see a glow. I didn’t know anything but the terror I felt. The man I was forced to call Papa had beat me many times, always saying it was a punishment for my bad behavior, but the look on his face that night—I knew he was going to kill me.

  When Parker said there was a glow, then blamed me for his death, I never considered I might actually be at fault. I just thought it was because he hated me and that he needed someone to blame.

  But now? What if the simmering magic inside of me did kill him?

  I wipe away more tears that roll down my face. “So, have you stopped blaming me?”

  Another long pause. “I don’t know what you want me to say. My parents didn’t ask me if I wanted to have some stupid, broken foster kid in my house. And my papa didn’t like you. I didn’t blame him. If he bruised your ass a few times, you deserved it.”

  I swallow around the lump in my throat. “But you still think I had something to do with him dying? You said something about a glow?”

  “Fuck,” Parker says, the angry curse exploding from his lips, reminding me of the cruel boy I knew. “Only a bitch would call someone in the middle of the night to ask about the person she killed. And yeah, I still think you did it.”

  The line goes dead.

  Why in the hell did I call? Why?

  Because I needed to know if I actually had magic inside of me? Dangerous magic? Yes, that’s why I did it. Because even if it took a call to a person who filled my dreams with nightmares, I needed to know the truth.

  I hit the red button on my phone and drop my face into my hands as my heart aches. Parker and his family were so nice until their grandpa moved in. Then, things turned into a nightmare. I’d almost forgotten about it, but something about the glowing book and losing the woman, my grandma, brought all those feelings back up.

  As I lean over the book, the only item I had from a real family member, I find myself crying harder. I’ve never been the type to feel sorry for myself, but maybe it was all the brandy, or maybe it was just how much life has changed since I arrived here, but I’m feeling more than a little sorry for myself tonight.

  Blinking away tears, blue light filters in behind my eyelids. Opening my eyes, I stare down at the book in shock. The blue light radiates from it, and when I reach out to touch the cover, it flips slowly open.

  Words start to scroll across the page.

  My dearest granddaughter,

  I have spent many years trying to find a way to break the spell I cast over you, and unlock your powers, but no matter what, all roads lead to the same path. Only through a great act of sacrifice, and a great cost of power, can you be free.

  Unfortunately, taking a life seems to be the only solution.

  Not any life, but the life of a great witch.

  I’m the one who did this to you. When the time comes, I’ll be the one to pay the ultimate price. There is no other way.

  If you’re already reading this, and thus have the book, I can already assume I’ve died. But don’t think I took my life in a simple act, I know from experience that all I have to do is let my presence be known to my enemies, and let down
my wards. So don’t waste time thinking about how it happened, and know that I performed a spell to be certain I didn’t suffer before I went.

  As much as I want to be there for you, I’ve lived a long life.

  I won’t regret this sacrifice for you.

  But now comes the hard part for you, Callie, I have contained the power released from my death in this book. To unleash the spell, you need only find witches willing to perform it for you. In your current state, you can’t. And then decide if you will feel the repercussions of the spell, or if you’ll have the witches bear the burden.

  Act soon, my dear one, because until you do, all those I protected are at the mercy of cruel people.

  You are their warrior now. It is not an easy burden to carry.

  Love,

  Grandma

  On the page, a simple spell appears.

  One life has been taken,

  For one life to return.

  A price will be paid by someone dear

  Willingly.

  Holding nothing back.

  And then the crime that was done,

  Will be undone.

  My hands shake as I pull a piece of paper off my desk and write down the spell, then I close the book slowly. There it is. This will undo the curse that has ruined my life since I was a child.

  And all it cost me was my only link to who my family were.

  Feeling numb, I go to my bed and lay down, drawing my knees up to my chest, ashamed as more tears fall. I thought I was willing to do anything to be normal, but I didn’t mean this. Never this.

  If I could go back in time, I’d continue to shift into a cat if it meant I could have one person in my life who loved me as much as my grandmother seemed to. A woman, who after not knowing me for nearly all my life, sacrificed herself for me.

  Suddenly, I hear the door to my room open. I turn my head slightly to see Hank’s shadow in the doorway.

  He moves a little closer, and his eyes widen in surprise when our gazes meet.

  “Lay with me,” I say.

  He moves forward and wipes the tears off my face, then silently slides into the bed and curls around me.

  Hank doesn’t love me. None of the guys do, we haven’t known each other long enough for that. But for tonight I’m going to pretend they do, because tomorrow everything changes. My powers get unleashed. My cat, my only constant companion, will be gone.

  And apparently, I’m supposed to save a bunch of people.

  “Hold me tighter,” I say.

  I’m relieved when he does.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hank

  Curling around Callie is a true test of how chivalrous I am. All I want to do is slide my hands up and down her body, massaging, caressing, and generally driving her into a frenzy that I can then calm. With my dick.

  But that’d make me a bit of an ass, given that she seemed so upset.

  Still, I breathe in her clean, freshly-showered scent and snuggle closer while keeping my pelvis pulled back so she can’t feel how turned on she makes me. She’s had one hell of a day, the last thing she needs is a horn-dog harassing her for sex.

  “Hank,” she whispers.

  I start, surprised she’s awake. I thought she’d passed out.

  “Touch me.”

  Oh, fuck. I want to so bad the tips of my fingers practically tingle. But she’s vulnerable and had several large glasses of brandy a few hours before. And I just heard her crying in her room alone minutes ago. She’s a mess. I can’t take advantage of her like that.

  “Hank?” Shit. I’ve been quiet too long while I debate with myself.

  “Yeah?”

  “Just making sure you’re awake.” Her voice is soft and vulnerable.

  I can’t take advantage of that. I can’t. Damn it. “As much as I desperately want to do what you asked, I don’t think right now is the time.” Fuck a duck, that’s hard to say.

  “Don’t you want me?” She shifts in my arms until she can see my face, from the moonlight streaming through the window.

  “Of course I want you.” All I would have to do is shift my hips and she would feel how much I desire her. “I want you so much that I’m aching for you.”

  “Then take me.” She twists more and leans in my direction, pressing her lips to mine and clutching the collar of my shirt with her small hands.

  I moan, near my breaking point. If she pushes much harder, I’m going to give in.

  Of course, she pushes harder. Her soft hand moves from my collar to my chest, where she strokes and touches me, as if memorizing the muscles of my body.

  She can’t know it yet, but my chest is my spot. My spot.

  Dammit.

  “Callie.” I inject forcefulness and power into my voice. Not with magic, just the tone. I need her to pay attention. “You drank a lot of brandy. The last thing I want is for our first time together to be marred by you resenting me tomorrow.”

  "I really am not as affected as you think I am. I know I got a little bold, but I also slept, and I drank water. And I'm bold when I'm not drinking. Yes, I can still feel that it's in my system, but I am in complete control of my emotions and my decisions." The light of the moon gives just enough illumination for me to see the earnest look on her face. And then she moves her hands again, splaying them across my chest.

  My moan turns into a growl as I lean forward and capture her mouth. If she’s sure, and she’s not drunk, who am I to argue? Before I get too into everything, I do a simple spell in my mind to create a barrier to prevent pregnancy. Witches are not prone to sexually transmitted diseases. It is possible to catch them, but very, very rare. It’s not on my radar.

  I finally allow my hips and hands to move, pushing my dick forward into her side. When she feels the hard-on I’ve had for her pressed against her thigh, she stiffens. I freeze immediately, terrified I’ve done something to offend her or kill her desire.

  “Is something wrong?” I whisper against her mouth.

  “No, I was just surprised.” She kisses me, then moves her lips to my jaw, and when I feel her nibble, I flex my hips again, my dick rubbing against her thigh through my thin pajama pants. I’d snuck over to the firehouse and grabbed some essentials for us using a concealment spell. When I walked out of the upstairs bathroom after changing into my PJs, I’d heard Callie crying.

  And here we are now. “Surprised by what?”

  “I don’t want to say.”

  That doesn't make me feel any better. "Well, now you have to tell me."

  “The size,” she whispers. “It’s just bigger than I expected.”

  Not puffing out my chest is one of the harder things I’ve done in life. “You’ve seen it before,” I point out. “In cat form, though.”

  “Yeah, but it’s different seeing it and feeling it.” She shifts, turning again so that she can face me. She’s a bit more in the shadows now so I can’t see the look in her eyes, but the tips of her mouth curl up before she moves one of her hands from my chest to my dick.

  I suck in a deep breath, fighting the urge to move too fast. I’m extremely lucky that she wants to do this, I would hate to scare her off with some of my more ferocious sexual tendencies.

  I let her take the lead and set the pace. Her fingers slide under my pajama pants, tracing the spot on my skin where the elastic material digs into my hip a little. My hands won't stop moving, from her face to her shoulders and finally her hips. Her nightshirt slides up when I touch her thighs, and I realize she isn't wearing pants. It’s then I realize she has no underwear on either. She truly is amazing.

  She dips her hand fully inside my pants and clasps my hard cock. Attempting not to lose myself in the sensations, I slide my hand around her body and cup her cheeks, letting my fingertips curl around and put pressure near her core. I am by no means a playboy, but I do have the ability to use the Internet. And I have read a lot of those articles in those magazines for girls that give instructions—if a guy is smart enough to read it.

  Putting pressu
re on her inner thighs at the botwtom of her butt cheeks does something inside her, which is my goal of course. She arches her back and purrs, literally purrs. I move my fingers a little bit farther in, closer to her core. As if paying me back, she slides her hand to my base and flattens it against my groin, curling her fingers into my swollen sack, as if teasing me. Tit for tat I guess.

  If she’s going to play that game, then I will stop with my teasing immediately. I pulled my hand back and glided up her inner thigh, going slow. I’m not teasing anymore, I’m giving her plenty of time to say no if she changes her mind.

  She doesn't stop me. She shifts on the bed again, opening her thighs and settling on her back, her head resting on my right hand and her body ready to feel my left hand. Pulling my hand away from her core, I slide my pants down and free my erection.

  Her small hand doesn’t even completely circle it. She adjusts again so she can grab it with both hands. This is starting to turn into a game of how many different ways can Callie lay on the bed. I chuckle, but it turns into another moan as she tightens her grip and slides her hands up and down on my shaft.

  I slide my hands between her legs again, wasting no time now. Finding her center, a slide in Callie, her juices surrounding my fingers and soaking my hand immediately. She’s wet and ready for me. I curl my fingers forward and find the raised, bumpy spot inside her that is sure to drive her wild.

  Sure enough, as soon as I apply pressure on the spot, she writhes underneath me and her hands pump frantically up and down my dick.

  I know I can make her come fast this way, but I want her first orgasm to come from my cock, even if I give it some help first with my fingers. After working her into a panting, moaning mess, I pull my fingers out.

  She grunts in protest. “I’m not done,” I whisper and lift myself onto my knees as she settles back onto the bed. Once again, I move slowly so she has time to say no or show her protestation. Instead, she wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me closer.

  Fuck, yes. I slide in and my whole body relaxes as the anticipation leaves, but immediately after, I tense up, ready to move and feel her tightening around me.