Magical Seclusion
Biomystic Security Book Three
Jaliza A. Burwell
Magical Seclusion
Copyright © 2019 by Jaliza A. Burwell
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copy Edited by Bookends Editing
Book Cover Design by Jessica Soltes
Printed in the United States of America
For those who need an escape.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Author’s Note
Next in Series
From the Author
Stalker Links
Chapter One
The pieces of paper mocked me. I glared at the pile of invitations, wishing the elementalists would just give up. Anytime soon would be great. The stupid fancy paper said otherwise. I was tempted to set the heavy stock on fire right then and there. Maybe it’d help mend my confused heart and mind.
I grinned and decided to roll with it, shoving all of them off my workbench in my lab at Biomystic Security and straight into the trash bin. Then, I used the magic inside of me, letting it curl out, and with a simple thought, the trash bin lit up with flames. Imbued with my magic, the fire caused the flames to flicker with spots of purple dancing with the red and orange. The heat fanned against my skin and comforted me.
Snickering, I enjoyed grim satisfaction as it crawled through my body at the sight. Now if it were only so easy to purge everything else going haywire in my mind. I didn’t even know where to start. Scratch that. I knew exactly where I wanted to start: the elementalists.
They were stubborn, but so was I. I had no intention of meeting with them. Unfortunately, they didn’t know how to take no for an answer. I’d been telling them to go fuck themselves since they’d showed themselves at Shanton’s campsite. They’d been refusing to listen, and since then, had become a curse to remind me of who I could have been, but wasn’t. I’d been proud of who I became, getting to where I was on my own, but they were a reminder that I was still not fully myself. I want to discover myself on my own—without them. They didn’t need me when I was born, and I didn’t need them now that I was nineteen.
Being stalked for a month, invitations always sitting there, no matter where I went, was pushing me over the edge. I already had enough going on as it was. I didn’t want to deal with them too. Through our initial meeting, I knew they wanted to fit me into their mold. That was never going to happen, not with my experiences and knowledge there to prevent that. No mold of theirs was going to be enough for me.
I sighed and ran a hand through my brown hair, knowing that when I went home tonight, another invitation was going to be waiting. At least they weren’t leaving them in my apartment. Never in my apartment. They either hadn’t been able to break in or they were at least being slightly considerate, because I would hunt them down and destroy them if they went into my territory.
If only the elementalists were my only issue, then I’d be okay. I’d be sane. Instead, I had to deal with confused emotions that seemed to randomly bubble up inside of me. I didn’t want to deal with them. I wanted to shove them back, ignore them, pretend they never existed. It’d make my life so much easier. I needed to focus on my projects and not on the fact that the guys had promised me dates and then disappeared.
I saw them around, even talked with them briefly, but it was like the whole ‘taking you out on a date soon’ promise never happened. It hurt. It really did. To their credit, they’d been busy. Once word got out about how we’d helped Shanton get his hands on an ancient artifact, people came to us for all their little problems. From what I could see, everyone was stressed and always running out the door. So I barely saw the guys, and I no longer fit in their schedule. That really burned.
The sound of bubbling water drew me out of my deep thoughts, and I rushed over to my current project, adding some more herbs to the boiling mixture. The air filled with the scent of mint and the air ventilation sucked it toward the ceiling. I held back a yawn as I watched the mixture roll around in the water, some bubbles popping from the aggressive heat.
I needed to get this part done, and then I’d be at a good stopping point for the night. I eyed the door, expecting to see Lombardi there, being all judgmental. Even I knew I was overworking myself. The problem was this was time-sensitive. Once I reached a certain point, I needed to move quickly to place all the safeguards on the device I was secretly calling Magic Be Gone, or MBG. The safeguards needed to be in place, otherwise, anyone could use it, and that was the last thing I wanted to happen.
Besides, I had the time and desperately needed to keep my mind off the others. There was a growing ache, and for the first few days I didn’t even realize it was because I missed the guys. Once it dawned on me what I was feeling, I grew angry and frustrated. They were here, in the same fricken building, and I still managed to miss them. I shouldn’t have allowed them to get so close. I shouldn’t have believed them when they promised to take me out on dates, to build a relationship. My past had taught me better—people lied all the time.
They definitely changed their minds once we got back from that assignment with Shanton. Probably realized how ridiculous the notion was to date one girl, and a nineteen-year-old at that. To them, I was a child.
I shook my head, trying to break my thoughts. The little insecure girl in me was coming up with theories, and I hated her for it. They were good theories, like, maybe they only told me they were interested because we were in a stressful situation at the time. Granted, they had taken me out on a date and we got to relax in a hot spring, but we’d also just come out of that crazy maze, barely alive. High-stress situations created high emotions. They could have been running off of that when they told me they all wanted to date me.
And now that we were back and they’d been able to calm down, that wasn’t the case anymore. Maybe they regretted telling me that and were using their jobs to stay away from me.
Not wanting to dwell on theories, I bit my lip hard enough to come back to reality. I couldn’t get lost in those assumptions, it hurt to think about it. It actually physically hurt me to think they didn’t really want me. Somehow, they’d all crawled into my heart and settled down, finding a spot. I didn’t even know how they did that, easily stripping away the independence I fought tooth and nail for.
Either way, they weren’t here now and it sucked, only making me angrier. I wanted to get into trouble with Davies, and hash things out with Rhett. I wanted to make Venni smile and draw out Alijah’s protectiveness. I wanted to tease Elliot and turn him into a guinea pig. Someone needed to piss Lombardi off so I could watch him ex
act retribution. Hell, I’d take dealing with Shanton’s cocky determination too. There was something alluring about a man who did what he could to get what he wanted, and Shanton did that without throwing others under a bus. All I wanted was to spend more time with them, get to know them.
Sighing, I rubbed my face. I wanted fricken company. To feel a man pressed against me, lips on my heated skin, hands roaming my body.
“Shit.”
I was horny.
Hissing caught my attention, and I swore as I dove to the pot and took it off the hot plate. Scalding hot water splashed over the rim and drenched my hand. “Fuck!” I nearly dropped the pot, risking the loss of hours of work.
When I released the pot onto the lab bench, my hands were shaking, skin red.
“Damn, Sparks, what the hell?” Ami said. She grabbed my hand and tugged me to the sink, turning the water on. When it was lukewarm, she held my hands underneath. “I come in to check on you only to see you nearly killing yourself? What are you doing anyway?”
I blinked several times and glanced at the open door. I didn’t even hear her come in.
“Thinking too hard, apparently,” I mumbled.
She snorted. “You shouldn’t daydream when you’re working.” She let go of me and when I went to remove my hands she said, “Don’t. You need to leave it under there for a while.”
I nodded as she dug through the cupboards.
“What are you looking for?” I asked, not liking her going through my stuff. Everything was right where it needed to be.
“Where do you keep the cream for burns?”
“Drawer right in front of you.”
Ami dug out the tube of cream and placed it on the counter with a small clank. Turning, she leaned her butt against the counter and stared at me, her gray eyes hard. Words were on the tip of her tongue, she just didn’t know how to say them. She was practically fighting with herself by the twitching of her expression.
“Don’t try to be tactical now,” I said when she showed no sign of speaking up.
She let out a breath of air. “Good. Laila Porter, you are a complete idiot.”
“Wha—”
“You’ve been down here for days. You’re exhausted and yet you keep pushing your limits and now you’re hurting yourself. We’re going out tonight, we’ll have some fun, and then you get to go home and rest.”
“Can’t I just go home?” I asked.
“No, because then you’ll go to your lab and keep working. I’m going to tire you out.” She smirked and tucked a strand of her black hair behind her ear. She’d recently had it cut into a pixie style and it looked good on her, the slight curls adding soft waves and making her look more feminine and innocent. Considering she was a meathead, this put her at an advantage while people kept dismissing her. It gave her an edge out in the field.
“It’s Thursday,” I said.
“So?”
“No one goes out on Thursday but the creeps.”
She shrugged. “Then maybe we can start a bar fight. I need a good fight.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s not happening. You know I don’t fight.”
“Aw, Sparks, I’ll protect you,” she pleaded, leaning closer to me. “Please. Pretty please.”
I laughed and used my soaked hand to shove her away, getting her work shirt wet. She laughed as she grabbed my hand and shoved it back underneath the water.
Ami refused to let me take my hand out from underneath the water for a few more minutes and then helped apply the cream. The redness had already started to lessen as it healed, my magic doing what it could. I couldn’t heal much on my own, but I could do enough to get rid of the discomfort, and the burn cream would do the rest. My hand was going to be red for a few more hours, but at least I wouldn’t have any blisters. A human would have had to go see a healer, but I wasn’t human.
Staring at my current project, I longed to keep working. This one was dangerous, but once I finished, it’d be worth it because then our human meatheads had a way to survive when they came up against powerful magical beings. The original idea was to have it contain both magic and energy users, but that was too complicated. So I narrowed the focus onto magic-users since they were the hardest to contain when they were powerful.
I didn’t want the situation with Elliot to happen again. In late August, he was put into a coma after getting hit by a magical attack. He was one of the few pure humans working for us, and while he was somehow one of the elites, he was still more vulnerable than the other meatheads. In general, we were faster, sturdier, and had other gifts, whether with magic or energy, to fall back on for help. Even our bodies healed faster.
But a pure human like Elliot didn’t have that.
I wanted to create something for them. I glanced at the pot I was now going to have to dump and start all over. Hours of work destroyed. I needed that potion to help me with the next step. I swallowed a scream of angry frustration. The last thing I wanted was Ami thinking I needed a psych evaluation.
“Get out of your head!” Ami said.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Fuck this, this is an intervention, let’s go.”
“I need to clean up.”
She narrowed her eyes and glanced around my lab. “Five minutes. I’m going to clock out and come right back. You better be ready to go.”
I believed her and got to work as soon as she left, making sure to lock up behind her. By the time she came back down, intending to drag me out, I was ready to go. I smirked at her, but she just shook her head and still managed to drag me out of the building.
Chapter Two
Bodies pressed against me as I held onto Ami and moved to my own beat. She was right, I needed this. Nothing but the music filled my thoughts and I let go. A man managed to wedge himself between us, and he grinned down at me, showing two very sharp incisors. He wasn’t a vampire though, I could feel his energy nipping at my skin when he put his hands on my waist.
I returned the smile and he pulled me closer as we moved as one on the dance floor. My heart wasn’t in it though. I wanted Davies here, or even Rhett. I had a theory that Rhett had moves on him and was just keeping them from me.
After the song ended, the stranger realized he wasn’t going to get more than a dance from me and moved on. Ami came back.
“You need to loosen up,” she yelled in my ear. I winced. The music was loud, but she somehow managed to be louder.
“I am,” I said.
She rolled her eyes, and I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m going to go get a drink,” I said. My skin was heated from all the moving, though the club itself wasn’t hot. There was a simple spell in the air to keep it cool.
Ami nodded and managed to pull a man to her to grind against.
I pushed through the crowd until I reached the bar. When my eyes met with the cute bartender’s, I flagged him down.
“What can I get you?” he asked, voice husky.
“Mojito,” I said. He nodded. I would probably have normally flirted with him for fun, but my heart wasn’t into it. My heart wasn’t into the night’s festivities at all. Despite being surrounded by so many people, I still somehow felt lonely.
“Having fun?” a familiar voice asked in my ear, sending warm shivers down my body. I glanced over and smirked at Elliot, warmth flooding through me. He managed to look just like all the other twenty-somethings in the bar tonight with a black blazer over a gray t-shirt. I gave my eyes permission to drink him up and wander down to his black jeans that were nearly painted onto him. The man had serious definition and those jeans showed it off. Elliot was a runner and the thickness of his thighs as the fabric stretched over them proved that.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you were working.”
He raised an eyebrow, his eyes knowing. “And you’re still nosing around the company,” he said.
The bartender slid my drink over, and before I could leave enough money to cover the drink and the tip, Elliot handed over the tw
enty, telling the man to keep the change.
“I am working,” he said and ran a hand through his dark brown hair, slicking it back away from his face. Elliot was a pretty boy with dark hair and gray eyes that looked into your soul. Eyes of the female population were drawn to his lean frame and lightly tanned skin. One thing I had learned about Elliot was that he cared deeply—deeply enough to sacrifice himself. I knew because he did that for me when he went up against the syphon. He’d do it again if given the option.
He looked past me briefly, and I turned to face the dancing crowd with my drink in hand. This allowed me to see what had caught his attention using my peripheral. There was a couple down at the end of the bar, flirting heavily with each other. The woman was drop dead gorgeous with long flowing red hair, light eyes framed by heavy makeup, and pale skin. The man was a typical clubber, taking on more than he could handle. I focused and felt the waves of lust coming off of him and disappearing into the woman.
“Ah, I see,” I said. Elliot was watching the siren. Sirens lured men to them and fed off their lust. The men would be fine, just tired afterward, and they’d never know that they’d made out with a woman hidden behind a glamor. Sirens weren’t always pretty. They ranged from beautiful to grotesque, and when they were hungry, they used glamor. Like how I used makeup to hide my own flaws.
The woman grabbed the guy and dragged him onto the dance floor. I grinned, seeing an opportunity and not afraid to take it. “Dance with me?” I asked, turning to Elliott.
“No, no way,” he said.
“You’re working,” I said. “You need to blend in and right now, you aren’t.”
“I’m talking to you, I think I’m blending in just fine.”
“Yes, but I’m about to go out there and dance. You’ll be stuck here, staring out onto the dance floor without a drink. That makes you a creep. You don’t want to come off as a creep.”
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