The Spell

by Heather Killough-Walden

  Lucas stepped up onto the threshold next to her and felt the air thicken. It was like a static charge beneath a thunderhead just before the lightning strikes. In that moment, he wanted to shove her up against the wall behind her and eat her – all of her. He imagined what she would taste like… like some whip-cream laden dessert. He could be upon her before she blinked.

  His fangs were poking through his gums now, a threat he couldn’t ignore. But he forced what he could of his wolf to heel and kept moving down the hall so that she could close the door behind them. When he heard it click shut, he stopped and turned to face her once more.

  “I want to thank you for stopping to help me yesterday.”

  “It was what anyone would have done,” she shrugged, smiling nervously. She ducked her head, and he could see the outline of her long lashes against her cheek bones.

  “No,” he said. “It wasn’t.” He had been a stranger in torn black leather and people were generally frightened of such things. Not that he could blame them. But Danny had stopped, regardless of his rough appearance. “You didn’t have to help, but you did.”

  “Well, I can say the same,” she said. “You drove me home safe, so we’re even.” She smiled a winning smile and began to brush past him. But then she stopped – right there beside him, and she reminded him of a child playing with matches. “Actually, I suppose I owe you now since you cleaned my car, brought me flowers, and stocked my fridge with baked goods.” She laughed softly and looked up at him with a slightly guilty expression.

  Lucas swallowed hard. His throat had gone dry, even as his mouth had begun to water. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said softly. He watched as she stilled there beside him and the pupils in her eyes expanded. She glanced at his mouth and then her gaze even flicked over his chest, and he felt his wolf rise to all fours. He was getting to her just as she was getting to him. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Actually,” she said, “I… I just finished eating.” Her own voice had grown softer and her tone had lowered. “Can I get you some coffee or tea though?”

  “I’m good,” he said. He needed air. He needed to get out of that house and away from the beds upstairs, or he was going to lose it. This wasn’t like him. She was just another woman, wasn’t she? Why was she affecting him like this?

  Keep it together, Caige.

  He tried to speak and found that he needed to clear his throat. He did so, pulling his gaze from hers and running his hand through his hair. It was a nervous habit. “Danny, can I take you out of here for a while?” It was a bold question, admittedly. But he was desperate. Most likely, she would turn him down. After all, for all she knew, he’d just wrecked a bike yesterday and wasn’t safe on a motorcycle. But at least then he would have an excuse to leave.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Lucas blinked and snapped back around to look at her. But she wasn’t looking at him. She was staring steadfastly at the floor, most likely too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “Okay then,” he said, snapping up the opportunity before it flittered away. He pulled his key out of his pocket and turned back around to stride toward the front door. When he reached it, he glanced over his shoulder to find her watching him. He smiled, turned the knob, and popped the door open. “Come with me.”

  *****

  Danny followed Caige across the lawn to where he had parked his bike. It wasn’t trashed or even banged up and she realized he must have purchased a new motorcycle that morning.

  She watched him walk; she couldn’t keep herself from doing so. He moved like a predator - his stride long and sure and his jeans just the right amount of tight. She thought of the muscles under those jeans and wondered again whether she was doing the right thing.

  When he mounted the bike with practiced, graceful ease, she felt her mouth go dry and her heart flutter in her chest. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, feeding a sudden urge to fight or flee.

  What the hell am I doing? she asked herself. This is a werewolf! And not just any werewolf – it’s Lucas Caige! He started the bike up and it roared to life. He used his boot to kick the stand away and righted the monster machine as if it weighed nothing. Danny watched all of this through eyes growing wide with trepidation.

  “Danny?” Caige spoke her name softly, expectantly. At the edges of his tone skirted something that sounded like a warning. She looked up into his eyes and saw the warning repeated there. Run, it said clearly. Run so I can chase you down.

  He held his gloved hand out for her and she glanced down at it. It’s just a ride, she told herself. He’s just going to take you for a ride.

  “No shit,” she muttered under her breath as she moved forward and placed her hand in his. His fingers closed over hers with immediate possessiveness. Strange, she thought. His behavior thus far had been of a man already smitten. Cleaning the car? Bringing flowers and food? Holding her hand as if he were afraid she would slip through his fingers?

  Danny had to stop and check that she actually had her dormant shield up. It seemed to be the only logical explanation for why he would be so interested in her. But it was up. She was safe.

  She looked down at her hand in his, allowing him to help her onto the back of the bike. It wasn’t her first time riding a motorcycle, so she knew what to do. But, all the same, he only let go when he had to.

  She settled herself onto the leather seat behind him and knew that she was going to have to wrap her arms around his waist. She could smell the leather of his black jacket in front of her and she couldn’t keep from admiring the way his black hair curled against the collar and his broad shoulder begged for her to lay her head against it. She felt safe there behind him; inexplicably so.

  Thor help me, she thought. This is ridiculous.

  With sudden determination, she slipped her arms quickly around his waist and tried to ignore the rush of warmth she got from him. Gods, he feels good. His abs were strong and solid beneath her grip; she wanted to run her hands along the ridges and dig her nails in. She could smell the aftershave he’d used and her lips parted. Her stomach grew heavy, the crotch of her panties damp.

  That’s it, she thought, and leaned back to remove her arms. But Caige released the handle bars of his bike and grasped both of her wrists in his gloved fingers before she could pull away. She stilled beneath his tight grip as he turned a little to address her over his broad shoulder.

  “Hold on tight, Danny,” he warned. Whether he meant for a double meaning to attach itself to his words or not, she caught one. “Don’t let go, understand?” He pulled her arms back around him and pressed her hands into his stomach.

  “Got it,” she mumbled, knowing damn well that his werewolf ears would pick it up. She also knew he would be able to scent her arousal, and the shame of how much his very nearness was turning her on made her want to jump off of the bike and haul ass for the house.

  But he had yet to release her wrists. It was as if he could not only scent her arousal, but her fear as well – and he wasn’t going to let her go anywhere. The thought almost turned her on more.

  Finally, he let her go and returned his grips to the handle bars. He straightened out the wheel, revved the engine, shifted, and lifted his boots as the bike took off.

  Danny’s heartrate kicked up a notch as he left the driveway and hit the dark stretch of road that ran along the front of the house. She glanced once behind her at the shrinking facade of her two-story house. Not for the first time that night, she thought of how crazy she was behaving. And then Caige began to pick up tremendous speed, putting distance between her and the safety of her home as if his life depended on it.

  Chapter Five: “Toil and Trouble”

  She wondered where they were going. They’d been driving the mist-shrouded streets for at least ten minutes, neither of them attempting to speak over the Harley’s engine. Not that she wasn’t fine with just riding.

  The September night was cool and crisp. The smell of wood smoke permeated the sky, and between the drifting, low-lying clouds, Da
nny could make out the thick starlit strip of the Milky Way. She was glad she’d grabbed her jacket before leaving the house. She could easily heal any malady she picked up due to a compromised immune system, but it was always easier to just not get sick in the first place.

  Still, she wasn’t completely cold. Lucas’s body was like a furnace in front of her. Did werewolves just burn hot, or did he have a fever? He was radiating enough warmth that the only really chilly parts of her own body were her nose and ears. The smell of his aftershave, scented soap and leather jacket drifted over her, buffeted by the wind, but still strong enough to warm her on the inside as well as his nearness was warming her on the outside.

  She felt comfortable there behind him. She seemed to fit there, her body pressed against his, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle. Caige carved the corners in the road as if he’d been riding for fifty years – and maybe he had. The bike seemed an extension of him more than a vehicle of any sort, and even its roar fit Lucas’s dark, un-kept character.

  Every now and then, she glanced over the black leather on his broad shoulder to catch glimpses of his switching grip on the throttle, his black motorcycle boot on the gear shift, the strong line of his jaw with the five o’clock shadow… and she felt a warmth somewhere deeper. More private.

  He was getting to her. Every square millimeter of the man was pure, unadulterated masculinity.

  Danny closed her eyes and leaned forward to rest her cheek on the solid wall of his back. She knew she was playing with fire. Dark, black, cold-burning fire that would sear the shit out of her if she wasn’t careful. But there were the dreams to contend with. And Imani was right. Things weren’t going to get better.

  The truth of it was that despite Caige’s infamous dislike of magic of any kind, Danny had always sort of admired him from afar. It was why she knew so much about him – his past, his brother, even some of his habits. She had always been interested in the black-eyed werewolf who stood apart from the others. The loner.

  Of course, she’d never revealed herself to him. Now, as she rode behind him, pressed so tightly against him, she had to wonder why. Why hadn’t she ever wanted Caige to see her in person when the werewolf community called in the witches for help? Why hadn’t she ever wanted him to know she was a witch?

  Because I’ve always liked him.

  Danny blinked and straightened in the saddle. Crap, she thought. I never wanted him to know because I didn’t want him to associate me with something he hated. I wanted him to like me instead. Even before her dormant-induced werewolf dreams had ever started… she’d had a thing for Lucas Caige.

  As this realization rolled over her like a bank of mind-numbing fog, Lucas slowed the bike down and turned onto a smaller street. Danny recognized the street, as well as the lights that were making the night time sky glow over the tree tops in the near distance.

  At the moment, around the next corner, the Trinidad Fall Festival was taking place. There would be music, food, arts and crafts booths, games, a bon fire, and several performances by actors, magicians and the like. The festivities began in late afternoon and continued long into the night, when the booths took to selling hot apple cider, cocoa, and coffee.

  It was the same festival that Jason Alberich, their coven leader, had demanded everyone in the coven attend tonight. Imani had made excuses for Danny, but it looked like she would be showing up anyway.

  Of course, she thought. Lucas would naturally decide to bring her here. It was the perfect date spot, really. There were lots of people, so he would assume that she’d feel safe. And the bonfire on the pristine strip of beach was very romantic. Couples could always be found snuggling together nearby.

  Lucas pulled the bike into the lot and jockeyed into a protected spot between a white BMW and the brick wall that protected a private garden. Then he shut the bike down. Danny began to rise to dismount, but before she could fully stand up, Lucas was turning in his seat and grabbing her leg with his gloved hand.

  The contact was only meant to still her in the saddle, but the intimacy of the touch made her breath catch. Caige’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly and speared her with their hypnotic darkness. Danny found herself easing back into the seat. Her body felt as if it were melting there beneath his gentle grasp. He glanced down at his hand and, after a moment of silent contemplation, he slowly slid his fingers off of her.

  “I never asked you if you wanted to come here,” he said, his voice a little tight. “We don’t have to stay if it’s not your kind of thing.”

  Danny opened her mouth to respond, but only air came out. She closed her mouth, cleared her throat, and tried again. “N-no,” she said in a strained voice. “This is great. It was a good idea.” His gentle grip had set off a heat wave that yet rippled through her body, relentlessly weakening her in the most delicious way. She was flushed now – and he’d only touched her for a moment.

  Caige watched her intensely for a few seconds more, and then he smiled. “Okay then,” he said. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed her with both hands around her waist. Danny barely stifled a squeal as he easily lifted her entire body off of the bike and gently set her down beside it. He didn’t let her go until she had her feet solidly beneath her. Then he quickly and gracefully dismounted himself, rising to his full height, which towered over her despite her own tall figure.

  Danny swallowed hard and looked up at him, feeling unsteady even though she was standing on her own. His smile was killer. He liked surprising her, obviously.

  Caige pulled off his gloves and stuffed them into the inside pocket of his leather biker jacket. “Let’s walk,” he said then, once more reaching out without warning. This time, he brazenly took her left hand in his right and wasted no time intertwining their fingers. “You look a little cold. I’ll get you something warm to drink.” His grip was strong and the heat branded her hand where he held it.

  Werewolves do burn hot, she thought to herself as he led her through the sandy parking lot and into the chaos of the festivities. I wonder what the rest of him feels like.

  The Festival stage was lit and there were actors sword fighting one another on top of it. The small crowd that had gathered cheered and clapped; Danny could make out a few of the actors’ lines even from this distance. The night was beautiful and the smell in the air was one of spice and pumpkin and apple and smoke, and she was beginning to think she might have a wonderful time with Caige tonight – when suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

  His body went completely rigid, from head to boot, and his grip on her hand became painful. Danny glanced down at their hands and then looked up and all around, wondering what had happened. But she saw nothing except revelers and art booths and children with multi-colored streamers and candy apples in their hands weaving wildly around the adults. A few of the children she even recognized. There was Mischa, the six-year-old son of Rebecca and Adam, two of the coven members. Alice was there too; she was a year younger than Mischa and the daughter of Jennifer Rae, another coven member.

  And then it hit Danny. Magic. It was all around them.

  Oh no, she thought, her head snapping back around to look up at Lucas. His dark eyes were sparking strangely at their centers and his mouth was closed tight.

  Fangs, she realized. He’s trying to hide his fangs.

  *****

  It washed over Lucas like a crimson tide, smothering and strong and shocking to the point that his fangs instantly erupted in his mouth, and his fingertips began to ache where his nails threatened to grow.

  Magic. The scent was staggering. It was everywhere. It smelled like stardust and promises and flowers that were almost in bloom. The scent was indescribable really, and to most people it probably would have smelled like hope.

  But to him, it was nothing short of the stench of impending death. He had no way to defend himself against magic. There was nothing he could do to protect Danny from whatever it was that was here in this crowd.

  His wolf reared its head and awakened within him,
snarling at the gates, clawing at the edges of his being and begging to be set free.

  “Lucas, you know I just had a thought,” Danny said beside him. He looked down at her and saw her flinch.

  Fuck, he thought. Keep it together Caige! He barked at his wolf to heel, sending the animal within him scurrying backward long enough to keep the red in his eyes from showing any more than it most likely already did. He took a deep breath, shoved his fangs back in, and also forced his grip on his woman to loosen.

  My woman. Where the hell did that come from?

  Danny slowly pulled her hand from his and had enough kind consideration not to rub it, which he knew she must want to do. He’d really been holding on. “It’s kind of crowded here,” she ventured softly, her voice like a salve on his hyper-alert nerve endings. “It might be a little quieter further down the beach. I know a short cut if you’re game.”

  God bless her, Caige thought. Maybe I’ll manage to keep from scaring the crap out of her tonight after all.

  “Danny!”

  Caige’s head snapped up and around at the sound of someone calling Danny’s name. A young man dressed in Russian dancing clothes was jogging toward them. He was a fairly handsome man, probably in his mid-to-upper twenties, with thick brown hair and a slightly goofy smile. His gray-blue eyes were open and friendly.

  And he smelled like magic.

  “Danny, what are you doing here?” the man asked in a heavy Russian accent. Caige glanced down at the woman beside him. She looked distinctly uncomfortable, self-conscious and more than a touch afraid. Lucas’s inner wolf bared its fangs.

  “Sasha!” Danny replied amidst a nervous laugh. “Is Imani here with you?” she asked then, looking around for herself.

  “Yes, but –”

  “Danny, what the hell are you doing here?” came Imani’s angry voice from behind them. Lucas and Danny both spun to see the gorgeous African-Brazilian woman standing hands-on-hips, head cocked to one side, deep chocolate eyes shooting daggers at Danny. Danny took a step back.