Warlocks & Warfare_A Grimmer Legacy novel

by Eleanor Rousseau

  Avon bent down to kiss my cheek, “We got the tank, take your time.”

  “You’re a peach,” Tia told him, handing me my coffee.

  Avon smirked and began to push the tank in the direction I pointed too. It did have wheels but from the ease with which he moved it, you’d never guess how much it weighed.

  We sipped our coffees as we followed, a few feet behind.

  “He’s useful to have around,” murmured Tia.

  “He is indeed,” I agreed, watching him as he and Grant started to roughhouse, shoving each other playfully. Luckily they were careful of the tank, even as they kept moving it in the right direction.

  The two of them were also getting more than their fair share of looks from shoppers. I didn’t blame them, it was hard not to stare. Looks wise, they were like night and day but both were undeniably handsome. It was a wonder that they weren’t mobbed by eager young women.

  “Maybe you should get in between that,” Tia teased.

  I smirked, “Grant would enjoy that far too much.”

  She laughed, “He would if he’s half as bad as Gordo.” Both were Fey and therefore obsessed with sex.

  “Well, I’m not related to this one so believe me when I say he’s just as bad. I probably should stop them before they knock over the damn tank.” I took a gulp from my coffee and picked up the pace to catch up with the boys. “Behave you two,” I ordered sternly.

  Avon growled, “Little one, this beast would try to steal you from me,” he informed me.

  “Not steal, borrow,” Grant clarified, his eyes glittering with mirth.

  The Daemon let go of the tank and tugged me closer, growling again, “I don’t share.” He kissed my neck, the action sending pleasant tingles through me.

  Grant reached to play with my hair, “I’m sure you could learn to.” He gave me bedroom eyes that had me swallowing back drool as I struggled to keep my composure. I wouldn’t exactly say that Grant was my type but he clearly knew how to seduce a girls panties off.

  “I’m sure you can both learn to behave in a civil manner, doesn’t mean I’m holding out much hope though.” I stepped forward on slightly shaky knees and shoved the tank forward with my shoulder.

  Grant laughed, “I’ll make her mine, Demon Blood,” he threatened.

  “Like hell you will.”

  There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh but I ignored it. Tia stepped up next to me and laughed softly, “They’re as bad as the twins,” she informed me.

  “They’re in a good place, It’s probably the first time I’ve seen them so relaxed together.” Before it always kind of seemed like Grant was careful to avoid pushing Avon’s button, especially as he seemed particularly sensitive when it came to me.

  Things had changed, Avon had accomplished his lifelong mission to rescue his mother and we were dating now... sort of. I smiled, realising that the reason for the change was that he was now happy.

  I turned, “Avon?”

  He released Grant from the headlock he had him in. “Yes, little one?” he turned his attention to me.

  “Leave the boy alone.”

  “What will I receive if I comply with your request?” he asked, his gaze heated as he prowled closer.

  “It wasn’t a request, it was an order,” I informed him.

  He reached to curl his fingers around my neck, “I take orders from no one,” he informed me, a growl vibrating through his chest.

  “Yet you’re no longer attacking Grant.” I gave him a smug look.

  He shifted closer and licked my cheek.

  “Ew! Why do you keep doing that?”

  He pressed his lips against my earlobe, “Because it’s the only kind of punishment you don’t seem to take pleasure from,” he whispered.

  I blushed furiously and he kissed my neck. “You ass.” I shoved lightly at his chest.

  He just wrapped an arm possessively around my waist as he reached to push the tank, single-handedly, literally.

  Tia caught up with me, “So I was thinking soon would be a good time to announce the whole Richard thing,” she told me.

  “I agree. If you want Avon and I can be there so if they have a problem with it you can just be like ‘but Kia’s dating a Demon!’ and they’ll be like, yeah, I suppose it could be worse.”

  She grinned, “Awesome, you're on board.”

  “Why exactly am I worse than this Richard?” demanded Avon.

  “I can give you a list of why you’re worse than most people,” Grant put in helpfully.

  Avon glanced at him, “You are just asking for an ass whooping today, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “You know I’m just not into kinky the way you are, bro,” he said regretfully.

  Avon huffed, “No one in all the realms would even consider believing that.”

  Grant laughed, “Well, I would hope not. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

  We reached the loading bay, where the van waited.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I steal your sister for the evening,” Avon said to Tia after loading the tank onto the van.

  “I’ll let you off, as long as you make an appearance when I make the announcement.” My sister clearly knew how to take advantage of a situation.

  He smiled, “I’ll see what I can do. Little one, you’re with me.” He offered me his hand and I took it, biting my bottom lip.

  “I’ll catch you later, T, have a good evening.”

  “You too,” she shot me a wink.

  Avon lifted me from the ground, pressing me against him firmly. Then he began to carry me outside. “Put me down, I can walk,” I told him.

  “This way you cannot escape and Grant can’t attempt to seduce you,” he informed me, cupping my ass.

  I shifted, glaring sternly at him and hoping my blush didn’t give away how much I enjoyed being held by him. “Put me down, you fool.”

  “Why on earth would I do that when I have you exactly where I want you?”

  I squirmed a little against certain parts of his anatomy and he had to pause for a moment, “That’s why,” I told him, glancing down pointedly.

  He grinned, baring teeth, but set me down carefully. “That we can deal with later.”

  Oh, and didn’t that thought just send my mind straight into the gutter. “Only if you’re good.” I poked him in the ribs.

  He chuckled. “You wouldn’t deny me.”

  He was entirely too cocky for my liking. “I believe you’re becoming too comfortable with the current parameters of our relationship.” I made my tone haughty.

  He stepped closer as we kept walking. “And what would those parameters be, me bringing you more pleasure than you could have imagined as often as possible?” he murmured quietly against my ear, voice seductive as his fingers skimmer there way down my spine.

  My knees felt weak suddenly, “Those parameters would be us being...” I paused, what were we exactly? Exclusive booty calls? Dating didn’t seem to fit.

  “Mates,” he suggested, smirking in satisfaction.

  It seemed better than saying girlfriend and boyfriend, and it was a common term among supernaturals. “Mates,” I said, testing the word on my tongue. It would do.

  “Lifemates,” he clarified.

  “Lifemates? That seems like a large commitment, I’m not certain I’m ready for such a thing,” I told him.

  He pressed closer, “No other man can please you the way I can,” he informed me, nuzzling my neck.

  “I think you should let the girl see what’s out there first,” said Grant, grinning. “Trust me, dove, I can rock your world if you just give me the chance.” He took my hand and raised it to his lips.

  Avon growled before leading us towards a familiar car. “You’re driving.” He tossed Grant the keys. Grant huffed but unlocked the car. Avon guided me to the back seat. After closing the door behind us he pulled me close, kissing me thoroughly as his hand rested on my thigh.

  “Hey, we’re in a busy city, middle of the day,” I murmured.
/>
  “Nothing below the belt, I promise.” He squeezed my ass.

  I moaned softly and blushed as I recalled the last time we were this intimate in a car. “Where are we going?”

  “We are going to the warehouse and Grant is going to go elsewhere so I can get you naked and do any number of unspeakable this to you,” he said, pressing his lips against my ear.

  I shivered and bared my neck to his lips and tongue. Gotta love a man with a plan.

  Chapter Fifteen

  My head felt like it was full of cotton wool and something was wrong with my hands. It took me a moment to pinpoint what was wrong. Oh yeah, I couldn’t feel them. Did I even still have hands? That seemed like an important topic to ponder. I liked hands, what would I do without them? I could get a hook and become a pirate.

  I’d have thought I would have remembered losing them but you never know. When I was younger I’d had a loose tooth then Bam! it was gone the next morning. Never found it.

  It was at that point I remembered that I had eyes, eyes which fortunately did still work. I squinted at the brightness of everything, tempted to close them again. Normally I preferred a dimmer setting, especially when I felt hungover.

  Wait, I never got hungover. What was going on? Why were my thoughts so jumbly?

  I glanced down at my hands, they were still there but they were bloodied. My skin itched, and not just on my palms where the tissue was torn op. Goddess, that looked so gross. All of my skin felt uncomfortable. Where was Avon? Hadn’t I just been with Avon?

  I was annoyed, a storm building in my chest as my ire rose. What the fuck was going on?

  The skin on either side of my face felt tight. Whose body was this and why was it so damn uncomfortable? I shifted but my arms were strapped securely to the arms of the chair on which I sat.

  That small deterrence wasn’t enough to stop me from struggling, if anything it only encouraged me. I was getting fucking tired of being kidnapped.

  “Don’t struggle, you’ll just hurt yourself,” said a young female.

  My gaze shot off to the side where the woman stood and I took a moment to survey the room. It looked like some kind of lab, with clean white walls and shiny metal tables that were covered in books, files, and shiny metal tools. “I’m not the one who used my hands as a carving board!” I snapped, baring my teeth.

  “I’m sorry about that but he assured me you wouldn’t feel the pain.” She frowned a little. She was blonde, relatively short and wore jeans and a pale rose blouse. She didn’t look like a psychopath, but psychopaths rarely do.

  “Who is he, Morox? I’ll kill the bastard before I let him lay a hand on me again!” I snarled.

  She blinked, surprise and worry flickering in her gaze, “No, you’re quite safe. Misha would never harm you.”

  “Misha,” I spat. “That bastard. I’ll kill him too.” And in that moment I wasn’t lying, I wanted nothing more than to tear the bastards head off. Why did he have to keep doing this to me?

  She raised her hands as if to placate me. As if I weren’t already strapped to a fucking chair. “He was worried your reaction might not be favourable, that’s why he sent me.”

  “The only thing that proves is that he’s weak, just like all the other bastards who think drugging a girl or overpowering her gives them the right to do as they please!”

  “You don’t understand, miss, he’s doing you a great service.”

  Was she fucking insane? She had to be. “If that were really true I wouldn’t be here against my will and he wouldn’t be hiding like a coward!” I hoped he was listening.

  She smiled a little, eyeing my face with interest. Maybe she was gay. “You will understand, in time. You know, you are quite remarkable, a full-blooded Witch, even more so than Misha. He has always hated the fact that one of his ancestors was human, it was long enough ago that he only has a mere drop of human DNA but it still bothers him.”

  “I don’t need his life story, dear, I need you to set me loose.” So I could kill her and her piece-of-shit master.

  “Let me explain, the drop of human DNA little as it may be, has always prevented him from achieving his ultimate goal. To receive a glamour of his own.”

  “Bully for him but he needs to get it through his thick skull that I can’t change that.”

  “He knows that but he is equally interested in his legacy, and he wants you to be that legacy. You are quite remarkable, your energy is stunning, so pure.”

  Pure is not a word I would ever use to describe myself, but then I got the feeling she was seeing something most people didn’t see. Probably because she was crazy. I glanced down at the exposed flesh of my palms, “What have you done to me?”

  “It’s something your father has been working on for decades.” She sounded really excited and that fact churned my stomach. “His own attempts have unfortunately fallen short of expectations but he’s confident that with your mother's blood you will be his greatest achievement and I now believe he was right.”

  I felt ill, what had they done to me and how did I reverse it? My family could fix it, surely they could. “You have to let me go, my family and my mate will be coming for me and they have ways of tracking me.”

  She raised a thinly plucked eyebrow, “You have a mate? I was unaware of any other Warlock’s in the city.”

  “He’s not a Warlock,” I growled.

  She pursed her lips, “You’re a full-blooded Witch, if you don’t mate with a Warlock you will be the last of your kind.”

  Like I gave a damn about genetics. “I think you’re overlooking an important factor in all this... I really don’t give a shit.”

  She patted my forearm like I was some errant child. I tried to grab her, to do something but I was unable to move. “One day you will understand the importance of your legacy. I’m sure your father can find you a more suitable mate.”

  I snorted, she really was insane. “Like hell he will. I won’t be with some weak-ass Warlock. Thanks to my father I have a deep-seated resentment for the male half of my species.”

  “You shouldn’t, they are incredibly powerful, much more so that a mere mage such as myself.”

  Of course, she was a mage, no wonder she blindly followed my father's orders. Mages were the paler version of witches and warlocks. If mages were a light drizzle then witches were fierce storms.

  “Let me go and I will spare your life,” I said amicably. I could play nice if that’s what it took.

  She sighed softly, “Very well, just let me bandage up your hands. It may take some time for the transformation to be complete, you’ll probably experience some minor discomfort and metaphysical changes.” She had found some bandaged and was wrapping my palms. Part of me was grateful that I no longer had to look at my exposed flesh but most of me was trying to kill the mage bitch with my brain.

  Metaphysical changes? “You turned me into a freak?” I demanded.

  She smiled, shaking her head as her eyes sparkled with awe, “We turned you into a Goddess.”

  Huh. These guys were straight up crazy. Truly, there was no hope for any of them.

  “Sure you did.” It was probably best to humour her.

  After she was satisfied with her work she began to loosen the straps holding me down. “You’re welcome back anytime, Misha would be delighted to answer any questions you have.”

  One of my arms was now free. “You tell Misha that he’s gone too far this time, and next time I see him I will kill him. My mercy has reached its end, tell him that it would be wise of him to leave my city.” My voice was cold and merciless, and my skin prickled as fury coursed through me.

  Her hands had slowed but hadn’t stopped and I was free a moment later. “I’m sure when you realise what he has given you you’ll forgive him.”

  “We’re past that now, he’s been treating me like a damn lab rat and it has to stop.” I walked around the room and along the way I melted every metal object I passed using my magic, gaining only a small amount of satisfaction from the
destruction. I’d still rather have punched Misha in the face.

  “Tell him that he should really know better than to piss off a witch.” I picked up a scalpel as I passed. “Exit?” I asked.

  She pointed over to a lift.

  “I would have preferred that he hadn’t involved you in this, I feel no ill will towards you but he needs to understand that I am not some meek child who he can control.”

  She nodded, eyes widening as I approached her.

  “I truly am sorry.”

  I slashed the blade across her cheek. She gasped. It was a shallow cut, wholly superficial. It would heal soon enough but it was enough that Warlock might think twice before sending his people to deal with me.

  I turned and walked quickly out, leaving her shocked expression behind. The lift had only one button. I’m sure there were more but it was probably enchanted to hide them. I hit the one available button, ground floor.

  The mirrored doors closed and an unfamiliar face looked back at me. Cold silver eyes, void of pupils, met mine. Tattoos adorned either side of my face from my temples to the top of my cheeks.

  My expression turned even more pissed and I would have hit something but trying to ball up my fists caused pain to flare and I thought better of it. The tattoos were pretty but they were on my freaking face.

  My features also looked sharper, more pronounced, either that or the little mage was really good at contouring. My hair was mostly the same but as I ran my fingers through it it shimmered.

  Fucking metaphysical changes. She hadn’t been lying. Even my nails were different, now they had a natural shimmer to them. I really hated my father.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You smell weird,” Maya informed me as I stumbled into the living room.

  “I think I need a hug,” I said, pouting.

  She rose and turned to face me, one eyebrow quirked in question but then she paused when she actually saw me, “Oh, honey, you definitely need a hug.” She rose to her feet and gave me a tight squeeze. “Misha?” she asked softly, pursing her lips in anger.