Warrior Enchanted: The Sons of the Zodiac

by Addison Fox

  “I want you, too.” He leaned down and cupped her face in his hands, pressing his lips to hers. “Always.”

  Her fingers were light at his waist and made quick work of the jeans he’d hastily thrown on to go look for her. Her small hands ran the thick material down his body, stopping to linger on his backside with a sexy squeeze. The side of her breast brushed against his arousal, and the simple touch had him shuddering.

  How could she do this to him? How was it even possible?

  No matter how many times they were together, it was always like this.

  Desperately needy and infinitely sweet.

  She continued her unerring course to the floor, her fingers running languorously over his thighs, then his calves, until his jeans pooled on the floor. Before he could reach for her, her clever fingers were back at his waist, dragging his T-shirt up and over his head.

  “Now, that’s much better.” Her smile gleamed in the moonlight as his shirt landed with a soft thud a few feet away. “Nothing like an even playing field.”

  “I can’t argue with you there.” He bent his head to take her mouth, arousal heavy in the air between them. Her hands ran over his chest, across his pectoral muscles and up over his shoulders as the kiss spun out between them.

  She was so tiny, the top of her head coming only to the upper part of his chest. Not for the first time, he wondered how a woman so small and so very delicate could make every inch of his large body ache.

  Yet it did.

  He burned for her—body and soul. It lived and breathed within him, a desperate, driving thing that consumed him from the inside out. Life without her was unimaginable.

  And yet he knew—just as she did—that what they had was fundamentally fleeting. Their time would pass. This age would turn into the next.

  No matter how fervently he wished it, she couldn’t see the next one with him.

  Emerson wondered at the sadness that telegraphed to her from Drake’s large form.

  Had she done something?

  Dragging her lips from his, she placed both hands on his cheeks. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” With a slight shake of his head, he offered her a smile that didn’t quite reach the green of his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

  She nearly stopped right there to force the issue, but something held her back. No matter when they’d ever been together—in bed or out—he’d always been so strong. So completely in charge.

  But the look on his face reminded her of that night so long ago.

  The first night she’d seen him when she was a teenager, his head pressed to the door as his shoulders sagged, seemingly against the weight of the world. He’d captivated her in that moment, the contrast of outward strength with such a deep, inward struggle. She’d thought it long gone. But looking at him now—sensing it, really—she saw the familiar.

  Saw the man she’d fallen in love with so many, many moons ago.

  “Love me, Drake. Please.”

  The words had the desired effect as whatever weight dragged on him evaporated. Before she could sense his intent, he had her up in his arms and moving them toward the bed. He followed her down onto the mattress, covering her with his large form.

  She reveled in these moments, no matter how many times she told herself he was a drug she needed to quit cold turkey. Reveled in the feel of that large body covering her—consuming her. She felt small and protected and so very, very feminine.

  When she was in his arms, she didn’t feel like she had to do everything on her own.

  Didn’t have to be everything on her own.

  When she was in his arms, she could be bare, both literally and figuratively.

  Human.

  Vulnerable.

  When she was in his arms, the words she’d carried in her head her entire life—that no man could accept the power inside of her—quieted and faded away.

  Drake shifted, moving down her body until his mouth was flush with her breast. The hard, urgent tug of need unfurled in her stomach as he ran his tongue over her nipple before dragging the tip fully into his mouth.

  Oh God, he made her burn.

  She clenched her fingers in the silk of the duvet as his mouth created the most wondrous sensations inside of her. While his tongue and lips teased one breast, he mimicked the motions with his fingers on her other. He plucked at the other nipple, groaning against her skin as the tip went hard in his hands.

  Her own moan drifted into the air between them, soft and needy as he played her body like a virtuoso.

  With lightning-quick movements, that hand shifted and moved unerringly to the apex of her thighs. Another moan welled up in her throat, heavier this time, as his fingers delved into her core in long, determined strokes. He had her to peak in moments, the greedy orgasm consuming her body in blazing waves of heat.

  Before she could even catch her breath, he’d shifted and buried himself inside of her. “I need you.” His voice was ragged in her ear as he began to move. “Now.”

  “Yes.” One word, dragged from her lips on another moan as her body clenched around him. “Oh yes.”

  If there were any more words, Emerson couldn’t say. All she was—the entire world—coalesced in that moment.

  In the two of them.

  As the pleasure built inside her once more, their bodies pounding together in mindless need, she felt him stiffen on a heavy moan. “Emerson!”

  His name fell from her lips as, together, they rode the moment.

  And together, she realized, they shut out the rest of the world that desperately sought to push its way in.

  “What do you need me to do?” Drake stared at the framed mirror Emerson had placed on the table earlier, abstractly aware of her bustling around in the kitchen.

  “I need you to make sure I stay put and that I come out of the vision.”

  “But you’ll be here.”

  She moved over to the table with a teakettle and poured steaming water into a plain white mug. “Physically here, yes. But the vision will take me somewhere else.”

  Drake was caught up short at her description. “Your soul?”

  Emerson glanced briefly at the mirror before resting that grayish gaze on him. “Yes.”

  “Are you sure you should do this? Maybe we should call your sister.”

  “Come on. This is the only way.”

  Drake nodded, even as his discomfort rose by the second.

  “I’m going to drink this and will need about five minutes for it to take effect.”

  “And the drink?” He nodded toward the mug.

  “It’ll help the visions come easier and make them more expansive. I’m not trying to spy on Magnus at this very moment, but I want to reach out and find the high points.”

  “And you call my gifts unique.”

  Emerson smiled at that. “They are.”

  “Last time I checked, I couldn’t conjure up memories out of mirrors, so you’ve got one up on me there.”

  She took a large sip and simply smiled at him over the rim of the mug. So much had happened over the last several days. So many moments that drew them closer, even as he lived in growing fear of something happening to her.

  After a few minutes, she nodded. “I’m ready to begin.”

  He stood with her as she leaned over the mirror and reached for her hand, hoping for quick answers to their questions. And as their fingers linked, Drake vowed to help her deal with whatever she discovered.

  Emerson was conscious of Drake’s anxiety as she allowed her mind to reach out through the mirror. The tisane she’d brewed had gone a long way toward calming her nerves, but nothing could stop the adrenaline that pumped in her veins at the opportunity to finally get some answers.

  Reaching out, she probed the air through the mirror, searching for the whispers that would show her to her brother. She’d always found it easier to focus on family members, and as she caught on Magnus’s essence, she wondered why she hadn’t thought of this sooner.

  Images flashed befo
re her, some familiar as she saw him in their kitchen, then in their backyard as he waited for her to come home.

  She couldn’t get a bead on his thoughts, but she got a sense for his feelings.

  Impatience. Indecision. Fear?

  Taking a calming breath, she refocused herself, trying to go more deeply into the secrets the mirror offered. Now that she had a bead on Magnus’s essence, she probed with a combination of her magic and her mind, allowing her senses to reach out.

  And stumbled into a memory that had the flight instinct rearing up within every part of her being, both physical and spiritual. Tamping down on the urge, Emerson forced herself to look.

  Magnus faced a woman—long, lean and leather-clad—who wove tales of power and what she could turn him into. She watched as his eyes filled with greed at the promised offerings—strength, power, domination.

  She saw Magnus extend his hand to the woman, clasping her smaller, outstretched one as he took what she offered. Saw as the clothes were ripped from his body and his slender form expanded and grew into the hard-planed Warrior she’d seen most recently.

  And finally, Emerson saw the tattoo that rose in dark ink over his shoulders, the snake that coiled and wrapped itself around him.

  Although she couldn’t hear the words he and the woman spoke, the memory emblazoned itself on her, its contents as clear as if they’d happened to her.

  When she finally pulled herself from the vision, Emerson was forced to acknowledge the truth.

  Her brother was lost.

  The car ride back to the city was a quiet one, both of them full of the emotional overload of the last few days. Drake risked a sideways stare at Emerson as they drove down the West Side Highway. Dark circles colored the thin skin beneath her eyes and her small frame grew increasingly tense the closer they got to Manhattan.

  “Do you know what I’ve been thinking about?”

  Her quiet words pulled him from his thoughts as they turned down their street. “Your sister?”

  “No. Finley. What must she think of all this?”

  Drake considered Grey’s lawyer and what the last several days must have been like for her. From her capture in the warehouse to all that she’d been exposed to since, it had to have taken its toll. “Grey hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with her.”

  “She’s in this whether he likes it or not. He’s trying to protect her, but he does her no good keeping her ignorant.”

  “No,” Drake agreed on a small sigh. “He doesn’t.”

  She cocked her head, the inquisitive motion a combination of sexy and sweet. “You’re not nearly as bullheaded as the others.”

  “That’s not what you usually say.”

  “Okay, when it comes to us you’re incredibly stubborn. But put that aside for a moment. How do you manage it?”

  “Manage what?”

  “You lead quietly. It never ceases to amaze me. Even when you’re marching in like the alpha dog on parade, you do it in a way that’s not insulting to anyone else. Least of all me.”

  “I never stopped to think about it.”

  “No, you probably don’t. You just do it.” She hesitated for a moment, and Drake got the distinct impression she was weighing her words. “You’re a good man, Drake. You may even be the best man I’ve ever met. That’s why once this is over, we need to stop seeing each other.”

  The words smacked with the force of an oncoming semi, but somehow he kept his hands steady as he bypassed their homes, heading one more block east to the parking garage where he stored his car.

  “Interesting decision. Care to tell me what’s prompted it? Especially after last night?”

  “Last night made it all clear. You deserve better. Better than me and what I can give you. What I’m willing to give you.”

  “Why are you so convinced you know—to use your term—‘better’?”

  “You do it often enough to me.”

  “Yes, but I’m right.”

  “There you go again. This weird power play that makes you think there can be more between us. Well, there can’t. I finally understand that now.”

  “Give me three reasons.”

  “My fucked-up brother, your insistence that I’m some sort of dream woman and immortality.” She rattled them off with a speed that suggested she’d spent more than a few moments thinking about them. “In no particular order.”

  “You’re my dream woman and I’m not changing my mind about that.” Drake pulled into the parking garage and saw an attendant waiting for them. He jumped out to gather their bags from the trunk, his mind whirling with Emerson.

  How to convince her? How to break through that freakishly stubborn skull of hers and make her see what he knew in his heart to be true?

  She felt the same things he did. He hadn’t ever really doubted it, but last night had proved it.

  They fit, gods damn it. Perfectly.

  Distracted, he didn’t even realize the mistake as he made it. A few moments…just a simple twist of fate.

  As he handed the attendant a tip, the bag on his arm slipped, jarring his hand. Their fingers brushed slightly, and that’s when Drake felt the rush of static electricity up his arm.

  “Emerson, get down!”

  Whirling, Drake slammed the bags at the Destroyer, using the momentum to force the man against the car while he got his hands free.

  Sparks shot off the side of the car as the Destroyer’s body made contact with the metal and Drake wasted no time. Leaping on the guy, he immediately went for the throat, seeking the quickest way to end him. He didn’t care who had sent him and he wasn’t looking for answers.

  He wanted the threat removed.

  The Destroyer generated a fireball, and Drake felt the liquid fire of it as it brushed his arm before veering off wildly and petering out. As another wave of electricity flashed, going even wider than the first, Drake saw Emerson from the corner of his eye. “Get away from this,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

  “Remember yesterday?”

  Before he could answer, her small hand gripped the waistband of his jeans and her fingers made contact with his body. A wave of fire shot from her fingertips, coating the Destroyer’s face in a steady blaze.

  He barely felt the fire as it burned above where his hands struggled to grip the flailing body. The fire gave him the momentum he needed, throwing in an added distraction to the Destroyer as Drake worked to get the handhold on the neck he needed.

  “A little higher or you’ll hit the car,” he grunted as the Destroyer threw all his weight against the frame of the Roadster, trying to dislodge his grip.

  “Seriously?” Emerson shouted in his ear. “That’s your worry right now?” But she did as he asked, lifting the stream a few notches higher.

  It gave them the last bit of power they needed, and as Drake’s grip tightened firmly on the Destroyer’s neck, he gave a swift, hard twist.

  The results were immediate. He dropped his hands, reaching for Emerson’s forearm to still her. “Enough. He’s gone.”

  “Oh my God, Drake.” Emerson released her hold on his jeans to wrap her arms around him. “He knew we’d be here.”

  “Yeah, he did.”

  Drake knew it was useless to tell her to get in the car and drive. While it had sustained some damage to the frame, she could have used the Roadster to get out of there. But he knew it was a futile request.

  “Which means we need to figure out what happened to the real attendant.” He snatched his phone and made a quick call to Quinn, giving him the details of where they were. He’d have the added benefit of getting the bull to wipe the security system once he was here as well.

  Drake’s gaze alighted on a CLOSED. LOT’S FULL sign and grabbed it, dragging it to the entrance. It had been quiet since they arrived. It was late enough in the morning that there would be few people looking for their cars, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Keeping Emerson firmly behind him, he held her hand as they walked toward the small office in the ba
ck of the garage. The door locked from the outside, but Drake got a firm visual of the small, cubicle-sized space through a gated hole on the door. “Stand here and don’t move.”

  With a quick port, he was inside the room and then opened the door outward. Emerson’s eyes widened as she saw the evidence of what lay behind him. Pushing past him, she kneeled down beside two bodies, one still in uniform and the other stripped to a T-shirt and underwear.

  “They’ve each got a pulse, but they’re both out cold.” She lifted her hands from the stripped guy’s neck, running her fingers toward his heart, and stopped when she got to the midpoint on his chest. “Look there. I thought it was dirt at first, but these are burn marks.” With a quick shift on her heels to focus on the other guy, she found matched markings on his shirt.

  Drake recognized the marks immediately. “They both took a serious level of voltage to knock them out like this.”

  “Will they be okay?”

  “If they’re still breathing, that’s a good sign.” Although he didn’t want to leave her, she could pull the door closed behind her and be safely locked inside the small office. “I want you to stay here and call Callie. She’ll know what to do.”

  “They need doctors.”

  “We can’t put anyone else in danger until we figure out if anything else is in the garage. Callie will know what to do in the meantime.”

  “Yes, I will.” Callie materialized behind them, along with Quinn. Emerson stood to give her room as she knelt between the two men.

  “Keep them sedated and out if you can without it hurting them. We need a few more minutes,” Drake instructed before turning to Quinn and updating him on what had happened since they pulled into the garage.

  “Let’s go.”

  “I’m going, too.”

  “You’re staying here with Callie.”

  The mulish frown was immediate and Drake reached for her arms. “Emerson, I need you to wait for me.”

  “You’ve seen how we fight, Drake. It makes us stronger.”

  “And we can’t go spreading fire inside a garage full of cars and leaked gas and oil on the floor.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Please wait with Callie.”