“Aren’t you Cajun?” Elijah dropped into the second twin bed across from Ivy.
She glanced up, her green eyes narrowing. “I’m Irish. We came over in the late seventeen hundreds by way of New York.”
“Ahh, like any good Irish family.” He’d meant it as a joke, but it was clear from her dagger-like gaze she hadn’t taken it that way. “Sorry, wolves are the butt of everyone’s jokes, especially Cajun wolves.”
“Yes, well,” Ivy moved her finger down Royal toward Canal. “I don’t see a reason to poke fingers at someone’s heritage.”
He bit his cheek to stop from pointing out that she was keen to dismiss someone because of it.
“How much longer?”
“It’s been eleven minutes. It took me longer than that to sense for other magical signatures and longer still for us to confirm those rooms didn’t hold Jared and his crew. You’ll live.”
“Not many people are brazen enough to tell an alpha to sit the fuck down and shut up.”
She tucked hair behind her ear and didn’t bother to look up. “I didn’t. I told you to be patient and that things take time.”
He chuckled. With every passing minute, he understood the real reason Ivy filled her mother’s shoes. She was powerful, sure, but she didn’t take shit from anyone, and she didn’t hesitate to call someone’s bull. Confidence was damn sexy, and Ivy wore it well.
“You’re in a rush. Slow down. I can’t function at a million miles per hour—no caster can. I get that wolves are about raw speed and power, but witches aren’t. We need to ground ourselves, and frankly, I’m losing energy.”
“I knew we needed to find food,” Elijah growled, upset he let her talk him into heading to the hotel to avoid being questioned over his police uniform.
“Tell me something,” she finally looked up. “Why did you join the police? Most leaders don’t do anything aside from lead.”
Elijah shrugged. “Alpha’s protect. My pack didn’t need too much protection out in the swamps. We were self-sufficient.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “About six years ago a little girl stumbled into the territory. Her parent’s wrecked their car and were nowhere in sight. She got too close to one of the feistier wolves, and he attacked. If I hadn’t jumped between them, there’s no telling if she’d be alive.”
Ivy said nothing but kept her gaze on his, listening intently.
“I realized there were probably a lot of people in harm’s way thanks to my kind. Sure some shifters likely worked to help people, but I wanted to help my city.” He shrugged. “It seemed appropriate.”
“So, you’re a hunter.”
“Is that a problem?” It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand what she meant, he simply wanted to know what she thought of it.
“Not at all. I don’t interact with too many wolves. From my experience, there are three kinds of pack members in New Orleans, the helpers, the homemakers, and the hunters. The helpers are out in the city doing service jobs. The homemakers do just that, and the hunters,” she looked him up and down. “They protect everyone else.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I will always protect what’s mine.” The words hung in the air. Elijah meant them the way they came out, and he enjoyed the way Ivy’s pupils dilated.
“Yes, well,” she flinched. “I need to stop saying that.”
He smiled. “Tell me about your parents.”
Pain crossed over her expression. “I can’t think about them, not right now knowing they’re just over Canal Street.” She dropped back to looking at the map. “This is the only one that makes sense, but it makes literally no sense at the same time.” She snarled and shoved the map off the bed. “I need a break.”
“We don’t have time for a break.” He hated how insensitive he sounded. “I know you said it could take Jared time to recover, but if it doesn’t, he’s prepping to kill a lot of people soon.”
“I know. I can’t help being tired, Elijah. Distract me, I’ll keep looking.” She pulled the map back up onto the bed, running her finger over a tear she created. “Did you always want to be Alpha?”
Difficult question. What he wanted hadn’t mattered. “I don’t know.”
Her face scrunched up as she quirked a brow. “You don’t know?”
“My father didn’t want to be Alpha. He couldn’t kill the man who raised him. My brother, Erik, isn’t cut out for leadership. He thinks with his heart, not his head. An alpha is a skill lying deep within someone, it’s not something that can be forced onto someone.”
“And you possessed that skill. Victory or not, if there’s one word that comes to mind when a person looks at Elijah Vikander, it’s leader. It oozes out of you, and it’s attached to your aura. It’s a sort of tan-orange.”
“And that means I’m a leader?”
“It signifies you’re a Supernatural first. We’re the only creatures with two colors surrounding us. Second, yes. Those colors mean logic and daredevil. It doesn’t take a genius to talk to you and see you like control.”
“Pot meet kettle. You’ve been trying to steer me since this began.”
She smirked. “I didn’t say I wasn’t controlling. I’ve had to be, to keep things together.”
Elijah didn’t understand why talking to her was so easy. He barely said this much to Sam on a chatty day even after all these years, yet, with her, it just came out. You want her to know you. He scowled at the thought.
“Something wrong?”
“Just thinking about all the ways this has gone wrong. Any closer?”
Ivy hadn’t even looked at the map since he’d started talking. He didn’t want to push, but she needed to focus again.
“I can go grab some food. There’s got to be some clothes in a room I can take.”
She gasped playfully. “You would steal?”
“I would borrow. If you need food, I’d rather not wait until morning to look for a tailor and hope one had something in our sizes.”
“I’ll be fine.” She looked back down at the map. “I have to believe he stayed close to the Quarter. It wouldn’t make sense to use that crystal shop as a starting point if he needed to be all the way in the Garden District.”
She impressed him again. He’d come to the same conclusion and kept his mouth shut so as not to interrupt her process. “Right. If I had my guess, it’s going to be one of the hotels on Royal. Not too much else stayed around. Jared doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to pay attention to history to find something he didn’t already know existed.”
“There’s only seven hotels. My instinct says he’d go someplace smaller, less known to hide out. But the other part of me thinks a popular, iconic hotel would make his attack more impactful. Maybe we should split up.”
“Absolutely not.” He took her hand in his and immediately felt a small jolt. “Hey.”
“If you touch me, we’ll wind up finishing what we started when this is all over, and we can’t do that.”
“So you just zap me with fire because you can?”
She shrugged. “It was needed.” She looked up again. “What was fighting your grandfather like?”
Elijah froze, and her hand fell from his. Taking his grandfather’s life remained the single worst moment of his existence. He didn’t talk about it, ever. For months after he succeeded as Alpha, Elijah would close his eyes at night and see his grandfather as he’d looked moments before Elijah strangled him.
“Like betrayal. But someone had to do it or someone else would, and they would have been a lot less considerate in doing so. My grandfather was well loved, but the more viciously an alpha gains power, the more loyally the pack follows.”
Why did I tell her that? A scowl twisted over his lips as he thought about the fire a moment ago. “You cast a truth spell on me, didn’t you?”
She raised a brow. “What makes you think I can cast without speaking or moving? The truth potion wore off hours ago.”
He pulled away, sliding off the bed to put space between them. “I
thought you wouldn’t do something like that, but then you burned me because it suited you.” He ran his hands through his hair. “My fucking god, you did cast a spell on me to be attracted to you, didn’t you?”
“Excuse me?” Her voice went up an octave as she stood. “I just finished telling you not once, but twice, to not go there and you think I spelled you to want to do that?” She took a step closer. “Why? Because I’d get some kick out of turning a sexy, virile man down?”
“Because you wanted pack information.”
“Yes, Elijah. I’m running through the fucking past with you trying to chase down a threat to all our kind because I secretly want to gather information to pick up where our ancestors left off.”
Fire danced in her eyes. Hell hath no fury . . .
“No, Elijah, I did not cast a truth spell on you just now or slip some fucking potion into your drink to make you desire me. You desire me because I’m everything you aren’t used to. I’m beautiful, brilliant, and not willing to submit to you because you have muscles that could make a girl wet with desires and a body begging to be ridden.”
His eyes widened.
“But here’s the thing. I don’t know why I’m attracted to you. I don’t know why I didn’t put up a fight and insist on pairing with Renard. But I didn’t. You know what else I won’t do?” Her index finger poked into his chest every other word. “I won’t stay in this hotel room and take this. I don’t need your damn shifter senses to get this done. I don’t need your bravado and muscles to save me from anything.” She got so damn close her breath tickled his lips. “I don’t need you.”
His wolf clawed at the surface, growling with the need to put her in her place. The man hungered to show her she absolutely did need him, even if not in the way she meant. She stood too close for Elijah to ignore the seductive curve of her body and the scent of woman that lingered in the air. Ivy wanted him as much as he wanted her, even as she tried to deny it.
“I’ll do it alone,” she huffed and turned to leave.
Only Elijah caught her wrist and tugged her against him. “Tell me to stop.”
Her eyes widened like a doe caught in a trap, but she said nothing. Elijah claimed her lips, possessing her with a fierceness only a shifter could impart. He growled deep in his throat as her arms wrapped around his neck. Elijah didn’t care that she was a witch, only that as he devoured her, she reciprocated.
His heart slammed into his chest, and he could feel hers doing the same as their tongues tangled together, fighting for possession of the kiss. He smelled Ivy’s growing desire as the unique scent he’d come to know as hers mingled with the smell of sex. Elijah knew if he slipped his hand under the skirt he’d find her wet. Willing.
Dropping her wrist his hands went to her backside, cupping it and using it to tug her against him. She nipped at his lower lip and ground her hips against his. The demur witch didn’t exist with him—or maybe she never had at all.
It was Ivy whose hand slipped between their bodies and cupped his throbbing shaft through the dark blue trousers. He hummed as he grew harder under her touch despite the fabric separating them. Once more, Jared could wait, the whole fucking world could wait as far as his dick cared.
“What about not doing this?” He whispered against her ear before nibbling it and dragging his hand over her breasts. His hands slipped under the crop top and massaged over the pebbled peaks until she moaned.
“Something has to be done.” She sounded breathless, and Elijah liked it.
He took her lips under his again with a punishing force and stepped her back toward the bed. She took the hint and laid back, the ridiculously small skirt riding up far enough for him to lose control—or would have been if not for the absorbable white panties under the fishnets.
“Cute,” Elijah lowered himself over her boy, trailing kisses down her down as he went.
Ivy’s legs went around his waist, and she pressed against him. “No one was supposed to see past the fishnets. I wasn’t going for sex, just the illusion of it.”
He pushed the fabric aside and rubbed his index finger over her. “So wet for a woman who claims we shouldn’t do this.” Allowing his finger to dip inside her core he swirled it, watching as her eyes fell shut.
“Shit,” she hissed, arching her back off the bed. “That should not feel that good.” She mewled, her hips rocking on his finger.
“It’s going to feel a hell of a lot better in a minute.” He slipped a second finger in and tried to focus on her, and not the raging throbbing against his zipper. He took care of his partner first. Pleasure had to be earned, and he’d found partners much more giving when they’d enjoyed themselves.
“Elijah,” Ivy whimpered, her hands grasping the sheets by her side. “ugh,” short, panted breaths followed.
Elijah watched, taking in every detail, every change, as pleasure overtook the witch. If he were more animal than man, he had a feeling he’d try to claim her. Elijah Vikander was a man first and a wolf second. Ivy was an itch to scratch. A beautiful, fucking wonderful itch.
“Elijah,” her head thrashed to the side.
That time, Elijah bit his cheek and let his eyes fall shut so he could wrap himself in her pleasure. No one ever tempted him that way.
“Elijah!” She shouted, but no pleasure laced her tone.
His eyes flew open. Sure enough, the sensual look vanished. Ivy’s eyes were wide.
“Jared’s close.”
“Fuck,” he snarled, sliding his finger free. “Now?”
“Trust me, pretty sure I’m more upset than you are that moment.”
“You have no idea,” he stared into her gaze, at her lips, which seemed to be begging him to claim them again.
“I felt him. Well, the signature of his casting. He’s close too.” She rolled off the bed and moved quickly to the second one where the map sat. “He’s here,” she let her finger drop. “The Hotel Monteleone. It makes perfect sense. History. Power. Money. He’d go there to attack. He’s doing something right now.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Elijah growled low, rising off the bed and adjusting his damn erection. “I was going to bring him in and let him face Council justice, but now,” he looked at her and saw all the promise just taken from him. “I’ll kill him.”
Ivy cleared her throat and grabbed for the silly curtain she wore as a skirt. “He probably just saved us from making a mistake.”
“You keep saying that with your mouth, but your body disagrees.”
She shot him a look as she shoved her athame back in the waistband of the skirt. “Later. We’ll have this stupid conversation again later.” Ivy crossed the room, tugged the door open, and vanished out of the room.
Next time you pick a woman to desire, get her to get you off first. He snorted. There would be a later. That was twice she’d melted to his touch. He and Ivy were far from done. The more time he spent with her, aside from the momentary slip thinking she could ever spell him for attraction this strong, the more he grew to admire her.
“She’s sexy as hell, I’ll give her that.” He grabbed his coat and followed her, hoping she hadn’t gotten too far ahead.
11
Ivy’s head swam. She’d been less than a minute away from a deliciously desired release. Stopping Elijah had been nearly as hard as allowing herself to kiss him.
Don’t be stupid. The second he touches you, you damn near throw yourself at him.
Her attraction to Elijah made sense on a physical level. A woman would have to be dead not to appreciate the sapphire blue eyes, Viking cheekbones, and waving dark blond hair. The man looked more like a god than a man, never mind a wolf.
Then why does it seem like you’re interested in more than his looks?
They’d said less than fifteen sentences to each other at a time before today, and while she danced with some wild guys in her youth, that ended when her parents died. Elijah represented everything she never wanted though—his masculinity seemed toxic when she watched from a distance
at meetings.
Only, he’d been quite the opposite with her. His touch bordered on compassionate when she’d broken down at the shop. Not only that, but he’d willingly spoken about his life with her. The man she thought Elijah was didn’t talk. He seduced. He fucked. He left. He wouldn’t share himself, and he certainly wouldn’t waste time pursuing a woman who pushed him away.
Stop it, Ivy. Focus on the magic.
The blanket of ambient magic from the short, but explosive burst, still lingered in the air. If it dissipated, odds were Jared moved on. She’d almost mistaken the jolt of power as the release Elijah taunted her toward, but it had seemed a bit distant.
Like sexual release, a robust blast of magic could lead to a euphoric feeling for any caught within range. Ivy practically vibrated with pleasure between the two acts. Pleasurable or not, an outpouring of that nature meant Jared did something horribly unacceptable.
Elijah’s presence behind her as she stormed down Royal Street was a comfort she didn’t know she needed—or wanted.
Nearly sixteen years of her life boiled down to this very moment. Time travel happened. Sure, Ivy meant to go back in time a year or so, even a day or two, but this? Her heels clicked against cobblestone streets she hadn’t walked on since she’d been the witch equivalent of a teen.
“Are you okay?” Elijah asked gruffly from just a step behind her.
Ivy sucked in a deep breath, and when she let it out, she imagined the sexual tension, fear, and even excitement, slipping out on the exhale. “I’m something.”
“You’re positive this was Jared?”
She closed her eyes and prayed for serenity. “It was Jared. I can’t imagine a caster would practice so hastily in a time when we kept ourselves secret.” Ivy sped up, racing toward the Hotel Monteleone. “I can promise you, it’s not a habit of mine to be on the precipice of an orgasm and walk away. Even if it’s not the right man to be giving me one.” She muttered the last part and hoped the nearby mule and carriage drowned out the words.
Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 227