by Lauren Dane
SIMON took a decidedly cold shower in the guest bathroom and thought over this utter revelation. It had been Lark, all along.
From the first moment he’d met her he’d liked her and sought her friendship out. He’d subconsciously been building the foundation to something far more intimate and serious with her.
The memory of their kiss slammed into him. Her taste, the strength of her beneath his hands. She’d gotten under his skin, past his defenses.
As a Lycian male, he was always on guard for his reaction to females who were Others. Humans weren’t a threat. Though he knew some Lycians who’d married humans, it was too steep a price for most Lycians to watch their partner age and die as they didn’t.
But a witch? Well, a witch wasn’t human. A witch was an Other, like him. He could have lots and lots of babies with another paranormal. And if he took the extraordinary step of the binding with her, she’d gain a Lycian’s metabolism. Including the very slow rate of aging.
He hadn’t ever felt it necessary to settle down for very long. He was six hundred years old, he’d lived all over the universe, had met people from all kinds of places. He’d trained and served in his father’s private militia. Had led them for several centuries.
There’d been plenty of time and more than enough females and yet he’d never been moved by any of them to want to settle in and make a life. He’d never planned on Lark.
She was everything a Lycian male could possibly wish for. And now he itched to claim. To mark.
Sighing, he rinsed off. Lark Jaansen was a tough woman. Strong on so many levels. He’d admired that first. Which, looking back, had been the issue. They’d been friends first. He hadn’t seen her in a sexual or romantic way. He hadn’t bothered keeping her at arms’ length like he might have another female. Instead he’d been impressed by how fast a runner she was. By her stamina when they’d been out in the forest around his home. Never fell behind when they’d been racing or climbing. She nearly kept up with him in the pool. She was a whip-smart investigator too.
Up all night. Card playing, not opposed to a good cigar and quality scotch. He’d spent a lot of time with her as she’d been in town and by the time he stood there pulling his shorts on, it was too late for him to un-know those things. Those things the Lycian in him found regal and incomparable in any other female.
Man and beast found her fascinating and unequaled.
By the time he got dressed, she was pulling her boots on by the front door. Her weapons case nearby. God help him, the sight of it sent a thrill through him.
“You smell good.”
She’d said things like this to him before. He knew she found him attractive, so banter back and forth with slight flirty undertones had been fine. But now he found himself reading into what she said in an entirely new way.
“Just soap. But thanks.”
She looked up and he noted she’d dealt with her knuckles. The sight of the bandages filled him with so much anger. Impotent anger that anyone would harm her.
“I don’t like seeing you scraped up.” He bent to grab the case but she slapped his hands away.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to touch a girl’s guns?”
He laughed. “Surprisingly this was not part of the education I received as a youngster.” He bowed and she took the case. “You said you wanted me to carry the heavy stuff. I was just attempting to make myself useful.”
She fought against a smile but lost and he grinned back. This—whatever it was—slipped back into the ease they’d had before and a part of him relaxed. “I mean big boxes. Also you can pump gas. I hate that part. Makes my hands stink. I bet yours don’t. Also my gloves. I should have brought those.” She was thinking of them, he could tell, and then she returned back to him. “Shouldn’t you wear a coat? Your hair is wet.”
He liked that she noticed. “My body temperature runs about ten degrees higher than the average human. I don’t need a coat today. Come on.” He opened the door and went out first, checking the hallway. “All clear.”
She looked around. “No. No, it isn’t.” She gagged and then waved a hand in front of her face. “We should go. Now.”
His system went on full alert at the alarm in her voice and the tension in her stance. They hustled to the elevator and he didn’t fail to notice the way she already had a handgun in her grip, at the ready.
“Is it safe?” Simon scented the air, not detecting anything but the greasy, slightly burned stench the mages carried. It wasn’t fresh though.
“They’re not here. Now. But they were. Which means they got through most of the warding. Close enough to the door.”
“You’re staying with me from now on.” He hustled her from the elevator toward his car. The scent was here, but far more faint than it was upstairs. His beast was close, as he scanned the area.
“They’ve been down here. Wait.” She put a hand on his arm to stay him and moved closer to his car, using her othersight, he knew by the faraway look on her features.
She eased around the vehicle, examining, her lips moving. And then she put the weapon in a holster he never noticed and then to his astonishment cut herself.
The scent of her blood hit him in the gut. And not entirely unpleasantly. His beast liked the way she smelled. But neither beast nor man liked that she was bleeding. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Stop yelling and keep back. You’re messing with my mojo.” She drew on the car in her blood as she spoke. The air around them seemed to breathe in and hold before loosening again and the symbols she’d drawn seemed to fade into the car itself. He watched, fascinated, as she moved from place to place, drawing on the car or in the air as she spoke until she finally got to her knees, bent to touch her forehead to the ground and stood, straightening. “We’re all right now.”
He sighed and moved to open her door. She got in and buckled her seat belt as he went to the other side.
“What did you just do? Are we okay? Did they mess with my car? Is this safe?”
“You have decent warding on the car. They didn’t break it. It could be that they didn’t know it was your car. But I bet they did. They’re pretty organized. So I boosted the spellwork with my blood and my own rite. Blood is powerful magick. It’s older than some of the other craft we practice today. Western witches especially seem more wary of it.”
“Blood magick can be misused. Or be dark magick.”
“Yes, if the blood comes from sacrifice or any other unwilling situation. Intent counts for a great deal when it comes to magick, Simon. The blood was freely given. My intent was pure—to protect and defend. The spell knew me, and the earth at my feet boosted my power. There’s nothing dark about that. Just because some assholes do bad things doesn’t mean everyone who uses blood in a rite is the same.”
“I like it when you lecture me. It makes me feel like a wayward boy about to be disciplined.”
Her breath caught and her heart sped. Simon thanked his amplified senses. This female might try to blow off how he affected her, but her heartbeat couldn’t lie to him.
“You are really incorrigible.” She sniffed but he caught the ghost of a smile on her mouth.
“I am. My second-mother used to say that I’d know I met the right female when she was not only capable of keeping me in line, but that I’d let her. She’s going to like you.”
“You’re taking me home to meet your parents? I haven’t even let you get to second base yet.”
He laughed again. It felt good that she didn’t take him seriously. That she wasn’t afraid or bewitched by him. She’d need that to handle a Lycian male; he hadn’t been lying when he told her about what his mother had said.
He needed to stop thinking along those lines for the moment and focus on the situation.
“Talk to me about warding. My car is warded, the house, all our buildings. I guess I assumed they’d all sound like a car alarm or something. But those outside the apartment had been tripped. Shouldn’t it have made a noise?”
“You did what? Did I tell you you could do something like that? No. Undo that now.” He would not have her in danger on his behalf like that.
She had the audacity to snort. “You keep thinking you’re in charge of me and I’m puzzled, Simon.”
“How so?”
“Don’t snarl at me. You’re an intelligent man. You know how to soothe women. Heaven knows I’ve seen you do it dozens of times. But you try to handle me as if that would ever work. You know it can’t work, Simon. You know you’re not the boss of me in any way.”
He barked a laugh, even as annoyance rose that she didn’t just give in already.
“Now, back to what I was saying about wards. Many wards do make a noise. Either a psychic alarm to someone, like the one on your car now. Or in some cases, yes, like a car alarm. The ones at the apartment are protection and magick-nullifying wards. I’ll talk to Meriel about whether or not she had some sort of alarm built into it. If she didn’t hear it, that means someone with a hell of a lot of skill managed to break the spell. That would be very, very bad.” She sighed heavily.
He remained quiet, letting her work it through.
“Meriel and Dominic’s magick together makes some of the most brilliant and complicated spellwork I’ve ever seen. I’ve known Meriel most of my life. She’s always been strong, but now that she’s ascended to her bond with Dominic she’s a force of nature. That something could manage to get through the outer wardings before it was halted means they’re working with a being far more powerful than any mage or turned witch ever could be.”
“You’re working this all out. I have confidence that you will handle this threat.”
Funny that something as silly as a compliment could relax her, but somehow knowing he had faith in her abilities made things better. And he didn’t bug her as she thought over things.
She liked the way he drove. Self-assured, like most things he did. He didn’t hot-rod around, but the car was powerful and beautiful and it sang with her magick, which made her feel better about him when she wouldn’t be around. They’d need to go through the parking garage at the Owen building and probably around everyone’s houses too.
Things had gotten ten shades of worse and it was time to dig in and start acting like they were at war. If she was going to take over the hunter squad, she’d do it fully, but she’d do it only after she looked into Nell’s eyes when she said it was all right. It was Nell’s place and she didn’t want to step on toes, especially in such a tenuous time.
And, she supposed, she needed that last bit before she let go of Gennessee. Coming up for a month or two wasn’t the same as agreeing to run a squad for what could be more than six months.
“You can borrow my car.”
“Huh?” She had been thinking so hard she’d missed that they were nearly at Nell’s place.
“I live a ways from town. You can’t always wait for me to give you a ride. I have another car; you can use it while you’re at my place.”
If he just asked, or offered instead of stating stuff, she could be appreciative and accept. He was so bossy! “I never agreed to that. Plus I can rent a car. Owen or Gennessee will pay for it.”
“You don’t need to agree to it. It’s common sense and doesn’t require agreement. And a rental car won’t be as safe as my car. It’s silly to cost the clan money when I’m all too happy to loan you something.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’d argue over just about anything?” And probably win.
“Don’t pout. You know I’m right.”
“I don’t want you exposed to all this danger. It’s unnecessary. I can stay at a hotel. Or any number of other places.”
His back got up as he sat, poker straight and narrowed his gaze as if the windshield had insulted him. “Do you imagine I’d run from danger?”
“Don’t get all growly with me, mister.” She turned in her seat. “Why would I say that? God. You know what I mean but you’re deliberately taking offense. And being bossy, might I add. I don’t think you’re a coward. I want to protect you! Is that so bad?”
“It wouldn’t be if I was just a man. Or even a run-of-the-mill shifter. But I’m not. I am the third son of the most powerful living Lycian. I earned my first marks before I was six years old. I am a warrior and I do not need to be protected. I do the protecting.”
She sighed. A little horrified that part of her responded like yankee doo dah when he acted that way. A lot warm inside that he was so big and in charge. A smidge annoyed that he was such a grumpy baby and picked fights because he couldn’t bear being told no.
He said nothing else as he parked the car and they headed inside where Gage, Meriel and Dominic already waited.
“Sit down and eat.” William, Nell’s husband, motioned them toward the table where platters heaped with food covered most of the tabletop.
“Didn’t expect to see you this morning.” Dominic looked to Simon and the two men raised brows at each other.
Lark rolled her eyes and grabbed some eggs and thanked Meriel for the mug of coffee she put at Lark’s left hand.
“The hallway outside your place had been breached this morning.”
The talking ceased immediately. Nell leaned in closer. “Say what?”
“They didn’t trip the two most internal layers of warding, but they managed to get past the others. Mage energy. A turned witch too.”
“Those wards should have triggered an alarm spell.” Meriel turned to Dominic, who shook his head.
“Something a lot smarter and more powerful than a mage or turned witch is giving them help. There’s no other way to explain how anyone could have gotten through those wards without triggering the alarm.” Lark looked over the jam, trying to decide which would be better. “They’d been around Simon’s car but couldn’t get close enough. I warded it with a blood rite.”
“Smart.” Gage rubbed his hands over his face.
Nell took a bite of toast and thought awhile. “Well, given what you found out last night, we should move forward with the suspicion that these mages have some powerful being in their camp now. So, what’s the plan then?” she asked Lark at last. The look on her face was steady. There were no negative energies coming from her, at least not about Lark.
“I think we need to create a threat awareness process for the clan. We need to be on heightened alert right now. Keep a buddy system up so no one goes missing. I want the wards on everyone’s home and place of business checked and double-checked. That’s some basic stuff.”
“It’ll also give the witches in the clan clear evidence of what we’re doing for them. To protect them. And give them the tools to protect themselves better as well. Our self-defense classes are full in minutes.” Meriel sat back.
“Then let’s get more witches teaching them. I’m going to talk with Helena, see if anything else is going on down her way. And Arel from Rodas. The East Coast witches have been under threat longer than we have. He might have something useful to add.”
“And he’s not a chore to look at.”
When her husband snorted, Nell shrugged. “I’m not dead. A girl can look at a man like Arel and appreciate what a masterpiece he is. Even when she’s got her own masterpiece at home.” She winked and William shook his head before stealing a kiss.
“You totally speak truth about Arel.” She grinned and Simon snorted. “I need to meet with Sheila and Gia Kelly to talk about whatever they’ve found on the Magister.” She could use the name here in this place. The house was tightly warded, even down to the very foundations.
“Edwina is working on it as well. There’s not much out there. Not more than stories and old fables. Do you think it’s the Magister who was in the hallway with them? That it
was him, it, whatever, who broke our wards?”
Lark looked over to Meriel. Keeping Edwina busy was a plus. And she knew her stuff so that was important too. “Good on your mother. She’s a top-notch historian. As for the hallway? I don’t know. My mother read me and my sister Feminist Fairy Tales every night. We grew up being taught how to use guns and knives; my reality was scary enough so we didn’t hear the boogeyman stories like some did. I don’t know enough about the Magister to say yes or no to that. But clearly something strong has been aiding them. What we do know is that whatever the Magister is, it’s been regarded as exceptionally bad. So bad there are scary stories made up about it. That’s enough to freak me out and keep us extra cautious as we find out more.”
“Whatever it is, I’ve found over my life that anything that causes people to get pale and anxious simply at the mention of a name is something to be carefully regarded and feared.” Simon forked up some eggs.
“Yes, that. When will the autopsies be finished?”
Gage spoke again. “Some of it by this afternoon I’m told. But other things take longer. Even with magickal boosts it takes time to get back toxicology reports.”
“What about the other one?” They’d brought in three prisoners.
“He’s under extra watch.”
“We need to move him altogether. Where else do we have that would do?”
“He should be safe in the cells. We’ve redoubled the warding now.” Gage sipped his coffee.
“We thought the same thing last night and two of the prisoners are dead. I didn’t kill them. So who did? Chances are it’s someone connected to the turned witches or worse. Which means they have a way in. And if they could do it once, why not again? And if we move him, they may not be able to find him this time.”