Impulse (Mageri Series: Book 3)

by Dannika Dark

  “So what’s your plan, Miss Pandora? What box will you be opening this evening? Give fair warning before sharpening your claws on his scratching post so I can record it on my phone.”

  “Is that it?” I almost gasped.

  At the end of the road was a tremendous country club on private property. The landscape was minimal with aging trees and trimmed grass. Groups of people mingled outside of the building, which was a spectacle. A large water fountain with lights decorated the front and there were three stories of arched windows.

  “Look how tall everyone is,” I mumbled. The women were just as tall as the men—especially in heels.

  Simon was talking to Justus on the phone. “We’re here. I will.” He laughed nervously. “No worries. Your Learner is taking stalker to a whole new level. I’ll be sure to fill you in on…. I heard you, mate.” He tucked the phone in his pocket with a lift of his hip. “Your Ghuardian sends his hugs and kisses.”

  “I bet.”

  Simon sniffed audibly. “You think dousing yourself in all that perfume was such a good idea? Smells like you’ve been embalmed with it.”

  “Logan knows my scent so I had to cover it up. I’ll keep my hood on and you stay on the lookout.”

  “Nothing suspicious about that.”

  “Simon, just give me your support tonight. I’m going to confront him but I don’t have a plan, and I just want to see for myself if…”

  If Logan was interested in other women.

  He tugged on one of my drawstrings. “No sulking. You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

  I admired the glamorous surroundings. Inside, a vast sea of standing tables was woven throughout the dimly lit room. The open bar offered a variety of beverages, and I laughed when we passed an ice sculpture of a nude couple and Simon made a seductive moan.

  “Don’t even think about licking it,” I whispered.

  “Can’t say a woman ever said that to me before,” he smarted off in a thick accent.

  It was a fashion free-for-all and if a dress code existed that banned tight red shorts, then the guy drinking the martini didn’t get the memo.

  “I feel like a turkey in a lion pit,” Simon muttered, looking around warily. “I need to get pissed.” He breezed off to the bar.

  The men looked like chess pieces moving around a board—never staying still for very long. I withered in my corner, standing amid tall, lovely flowers. Chitah women were confident, beautiful, and graceful. The men would linger long enough to take in their scent and move on if it wasn’t to their liking.

  Simon handed me a frosty bottle. “Thanks,” I said, leaning on my left shoulder by the window. “Do you think it’s love at first sight or smell?”

  He sounded like a horse when he blew out a breath. “From what they say it’s a little of both. To tell you the truth, I don’t feel entirely comfortable here. You do realize we’re in a room with our mortal enemies.”

  “Never dated a Chitah?”

  “Are you mad? Most of these lollies come with brothers who would like nothing more than to remove my third leg.” He glanced around and mumbled to himself, “All I can enjoy tonight are the drinks.”

  “They sure believe in this true-love crap. Not just every three years, but let’s remember they have a national gathering every five years and a global event every six.”

  “Sounds like the shag Olympics,” Simon said with a snort.

  I spit out my beer and used the sleeve of the jacket to wipe my chin. When I looked out the window, my brows arched.

  “There he is,” I said flatly. “The drink table on the right.” My jaw slackened and I set the beer down on a table.

  Beneath a trellis decorated with tiny white lights, three stunning women circled Logan Cross. They were like orbiting moons—or vultures, by the look of their carnivorous gaze. My toes curled angrily inside of my shoes.

  “Careful now, you need to put a stopper in that,” Simon warned. “I can feel your energy spiking. Drink your beer and look at something else, for pity’s sake. If I can see it on your face, then it’s oozing out of your scent glands. Or I could whisper privately about one of my sexual fantasies that involves that bartender over there,” he said jokingly.

  Okay, that caught my attention, because the bartender was sporting a handlebar mustache.

  “I’ll be sure to slip him your number before we leave,” I promised.

  Logan looked handsome in a casual dress shirt, dark slacks, and his blond hair loose. As he spoke, the women clung to his every word. Were they his type? The one in the revealing red dress dominated his attention with her long blond hair that cascaded past her bony elbows. Diamonds graced her wrist and neck—she was elegance and money. The lady in the white tailored suit with dark curls looked out of place in a sea of mostly light-haired women. The third was a tramp not a day over twenty. There was more glitter on her legs than on the grungy streets of Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Her long, shapely figure captivated the men who were riveted by the way she continuously stroked her plump lips with her tongue.

  “Hey, Simon?”

  He flattened his shoulders against the wall and downed half of his beer.

  “Do you know anything about Chitah women?” I asked, not looking away from Logan. “Do they have the same reaction as the men with the love at first sight thing? Logan said it wasn’t the same.”

  He pulled the bottle away from his lips and it made a wet sucking noise. “No. That’s why they do all that courtship business. He may find his destiny, but the poor bastard still has to prove that he’s the best cat in the litter. She can choose whomever she wants. That’s why they take their time courting and baby-step it; one bad play and game over.”

  “What happens if she denies him?”

  Simon glanced at Logan. “Miserable bloke, I suppose. Theoretically, if you believe in the whole kindred spirit thing, then imagine going the rest of your life separated from the one that you know is your intended. From what they say, each of them has only one life mate—uh, only one meant to be theirs. They were born for each other.”

  I sniffed out a laugh. “What if the woman had two men claiming they were the one?”

  “Impossible. There is only one perfect match,” a deep voice to my right replied. I looked up at the reddish hair and all that brawn.

  “Swank party,” Simon complimented him, lifting his beer at Leo, Logan’s eldest brother. “Excellent selection on the imports.” The two men tipped their heads in an obligatory gesture.

  I had turned to bow when he leaned in and kissed my cheek politely, as if we were family. “Thanks for the invite.”

  “Advantages of my position. So tell me why you are captivated by watching my brother through a window… in that charming getup?” he asked, eyeing my espionage wardrobe. “I was under the impression that you would be mending fences.”

  “I always sucked at manual labor. Do you mind if we just hang back for a little while? Please don’t tell him I’m here, not just yet.”

  Leo agreed with a nod. “Enjoy the party. The blue room to the left is serving some amazing lobster,” he said with the infamous Cross smile. “I’ll see you two later.”

  Immediately, my eyes snapped back to the woman with the sea of golden hair curling her arm around Logan’s waist. She was the one who touched him when he spoke, making her intention clear. Red Dress officially graduated from harlot to archenemy.

  The harem gravitated to a high table with tall chairs. Glitter Girl twirled her finger around her pearl necklace as Logan laughed. God, what the hell was he talking about that had them in such a frenzy? Logan wasn’t kidding when he told me once that women chased him. What really lit a fire in me was how relaxed he was with them. He was enjoying himself, and that bothered me the most.

  Why not? They were the kind of women that every man desired, and here I was in Justus’s clothes wearing cheap perfume. Expecting him not to cheat was like throwing a six-year-old in a swimming pool filled with candy and asking him not to open his mou
th. I was kidding myself to think he was ever serious about me.

  My fingertips crackled with energy as he leaned close to the woman in the red dress, brushed her hair back, and spoke privately in her ear.

  All reason went out the window and I yanked down the zipper to my hoodie and threw the jacket at Simon. My fingers fluffed out my dark locks of wild hair and released a few buttons on my shirt. Granted, I didn’t have as much to work with as the blonde, but Logan often gazed at my humble assets with hungry eyes.

  Let’s just hope he brought his appetite with him.

  “Uh oh. I’ve seen that look.”

  “You’re my date, Simon. So be my date.”

  “Use me all you want.”

  He proudly took my arm and we moved out the door. Simon didn’t just walk—he strutted across the lawn like a male model on a runway.

  Tunnel vision set in when Logan’s fingers slid down her bare back as he scooted in her chair and took the seat to her right. She flipped her long hair, which would soon be twined around the grill of a certain Maserati.

  Logan gradually leaned to the side until he caught sight of me, and he looked startled when I vaporized him with my gaze.

  “Good evening, Mr. Cross,” I greeted him warmly.

  Simon cupped his hand around my shoulder, which immediately caught Logan’s attention. His eyes vanished beneath his heavy brow and I bit the inside of my cheek because of how handsome he looked in a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

  Coursing through my veins was an unfamiliar fire that I’d never felt for a man—jealousy.

  “Of all the places to run into you,” I said in slow, biting words. Simon helped me into the chair across from Logan and sat on my right. “Your brother was kind enough to extend us an invitation.”

  “Invitation?” the brown-haired woman squawked. “You aren’t a Chitah?” She turned her nose away as if she’d caught a whiff of my perfume. Made me wish I brought the whole damn bottle.

  “Of course she’s not,” Glitter Girl said with a snort. “Just look at her eyes. I bet she’s a Shifter, or maybe a troll!” They laughed in unison. I might have accepted the Shifter remark as a compliment, but trolls didn’t exist.

  “No kitty cat, I’m a Mage.” I pulled a votive candle closer to me and ran my finger over the flame in a violent manner. Sparks crackled from my fingertips against the fire and caught their attention. For reasons I couldn’t explain, my power was more intense whenever I was emotional. Simon discreetly pinched my side.

  Mouths twisted and noses wrinkled.

  “Careful who you insult with your tongue, little Mage,” one of them warned, narrowing her eyes so that her lashes looked like spears. “We bite.”

  I caught the slightest hint of her upper fangs descending.

  “Logan, wherever did you pick up this stray, dirty thing?” the bitch in red asked, tracing her fingers up his arm without taking her eyes off him.

  “So, Mr. Cross, I guess you decided not to waste any time in moving on,” I noted. Showing up at the Gathering was one thing, but allowing himself to be dry-humped by half the women in Cognito? Something entirely different.

  “Logan, please assure me that you didn’t chase after this insipid excuse of an immortal,” Red Dress said quietly to him. She cut me a sharp glare and I flinched from the power behind her eyes. “Mage, I think it’s past your bedtime.”

  That scrap of a woman was about to get polished off by the back of my hand.

  Logan looked uneasy—stiff-shouldered—as he leaned back and tilted his head. “Why did you come here, Silver?”

  I averted my eyes.

  “Waiter!” Simon snapped, immersed in the game. He slipped his hand behind my neck—the one place that Logan silently claimed as his. That stirred a reaction from Logan as visible as a fissure in a dam, and he tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm that sounded like the four horsemen riding to the apocalypse.

  “I bet I can guess why he broke it off. Too much power in those fingertips, honey?” the red dress scoffed. “You could never fully satisfy him. Stick with your own kind.”

  My anger transformed into hurt. Simon leaned in close and whispered privately, “Don’t go there. Let the trollop run her mouth all she wants, but don’t give her the satisfaction of your pain.”

  Logan lifted his chin, taking in short breaths, stirred by the intimacy of Simon’s mouth so close to my ear. The twitch in his lip made it impossible to tell if my perfume was enough to mask my emotions.

  Every time she found a button to push, she would victoriously stroke Logan’s arm and purr with contentment. “Someone like you could never win over a Chitah male, especially one of Logan’s caliber. He comes from a respectable line of men who mate with women of class.”

  “Well, apparently I was good enough for Mr. Cross to date,” I snapped.

  “Male curiosity can be forgiven; after all, these are virile men.” She squeezed his arm and constricted my heart. “It seems the only one with an infatuation here—is you.”

  The waiter poured white wine in crystal glasses and presented a platter of chocolate-dipped strawberries on the center of the table. I lifted a glass and took a long sip, struggling to ignore the verbal assault.

  “Any luck tonight, Mr. Cross? Pickings look pretty slim,” I said, dragging my eyes to each woman sitting at the table.

  “I think I can answer that,” Red Dress replied softly. Her nails caressed the groove of his jaw and brushed across his lips. I tried to remain nonchalant about it. I really did. But when I caught the wolfish smile on Logan’s face and his arm sliding behind her back—game on.

  Chapter 14

  If Logan wanted to play dirty, then I was prepared to roll with the pig.

  The intention of going to the Gathering was so that I wouldn’t have to live in the shadow of destiny. It was a chance to see how real this kindred spirit thing was. Would it change anything? It wounded me to see him collect these women like pet rocks and throw them in my face for sport.

  Simon tucked me against his side and kissed the top of my head reassuringly. We laced our fingers together on the table, and a soft jazz song lifted the mood of the crowd around us. If this were the Olympic games of jealousy, I was going for gold.

  The one striking detail about the party was the ratio of men to women. Logan was entertaining a table with four ladies, and that riled up a few of the men standing nearby as jealousy and contempt flared in their expressive eyes.

  “So tell me about the success rate, Mr. Cross. You plunk down how many millions of dollars to throw this shindig, and what—maybe a few hookups?”

  “She bores me, let’s leave,” the blonde whispered in Logan’s ear. His bright eyes latched onto mine and through his peripheral, he caught Simon’s index finger suggestively stroking my palm.

  “You recover from heartbreak rather quickly,” he bit out. A muscle tensed in his jaw, intensifying his bone structure.

  I leaned away from Simon. “Maybe staying with our own kind is for the best,” I said regretfully.

  A glass lifted. “I’ll drink to that,” Red Dress said.

  “Don’t you need to go get spayed or something?” I retorted.

  For just a second, I caught Logan’s lip twitching.

  The woman in the white suit bolted out of her chair and leaned over the table, pointing her polished finger at my face. “You’re nothing but a low-class Breed. You spoil this party with your presence and I don’t care who the hell invited you. A Mage shouldn’t stick their nose in our world, let alone be sniffing around our males. You have tramped around long enough and wasted this male’s valuable time. He bought tickets to the freak show, but it’s time you take your ridiculous carnival somewhere else.”

  “That’s enough,” Logan said in clipped words. Anger penetrated his features. “If you cannot hold your tongue then leave this table.”

  “Go on, I’ll keep him company,” the blonde cackled, gaining an advantage to her trophy as the brunette stormed off. Her ha
nd disappeared in his lap scandalously and his eyes hooded. The look of arousal on his face shredded me apart and clouded my thoughts.

  “Simon, could you pass me a strawberry?” I batted my eyelashes and tried to remain calm, but calm had already picked up the check and left the party.

  This was far better than I imagined, and yet so much worse. It was a royally bad idea from inception.

  With his fingerless gloves, Simon plucked out the largest berry on the platter. He ran his pierced tongue over his bottom lip—something he often did in chess when he was anticipating his opponents move. He pinched the stem and held it to my mouth so that I could eat from his hand. In Simon’s defense, he didn’t have a clue that he was digging his own grave with a spoon.

  The smooth chocolate touched my lower lip, pulling it down in one erotic motion.

  Logan’s reaction was explosive and drinks flew across the table.

  “You are making a spectacle of yourself!” He leapt to his feet, canines extending. Logan leaned forward and snatched the strawberry, crushing it in his tight fist. Juice streamed between his fingers and he threw the pulp into the grass.

  “I’m just the expendable curiosity, so what do you care?” My chair toppled over when I attempted to scoot it back on the grassy surface. “Continue with the orgy you got here; real classy. I thought this was all about finding the one. These cheap whores don’t look anything like soul mates—more like one-hour stands.”

  The girl in the short skirt flew out of her chair and her fangs punched out. Simon held up his hands in a threatening gesture—energy blazing at his fingertips. Woman or not, this was a different world than I was used to and he perceived her as a threat. Some of the men closed in on us and the impulse to run became strong.

  Logan’s eyes were two planets that I gravitated toward—bright, powerful, and mysterious.

  He paced around the table like a force to be reckoned with and glared down at me with a stony face.

  “Come with me,” he said, touching my arm.