Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

“Beautiful Mia.” I stroke my hand down her face, electricity running between the two of us. She catches her breath, her pupils dilating when she takes in my scent, my smile, my proximity.

  “Do you feel that, Mia?” I ask earnestly. No games this time.

  “It doesn’t matter what I feel, Mr Breckt.” Her chin rises.

  “I told you to call me Robert, Mia.”

  “And I’ve told you that it doesn’t feel right calling you that, Mr Breckt.”

  I love how her tongue caresses my name. “You’re so defiant, Mia,” I chuckle.

  She flushes and I reach for her bobble, freeing her hair before she can stop me. It cascades around her shoulders, framing her delicate face and taking my breath away. My hand is instinctively drawn to it, and I run my fingers through the thick mane. She moans involuntarily, dropping her guard before catching herself again.

  “This is what you’re saying no to, Mia. Can you really deny yourself this? There is something special between us. Something beautiful just waiting to happen.” I hear her pulse quicken and go in for the kill, tearing open my shirt and placing her hand over my heart. “Now tell me that you don’t want this.”

  I watch her closely as she wavers and then surrenders herself over to me. Her heart is racing like a locomotive in her chest. It drowns out all other senses until there is just me and Mia. Nothing else matters right now—just us—trapped together in this moment of pure lust.

  I grip her tightly around the waist, my hands cupping her perfect arse, and I pull her tight against me, grinding myself against her and making her gasp with brazen desire for me.

  “You want this,” I say with a smile.

  Her body is hot against my coolness and she shivers against me, against the rawness of it all.

  “No,” she whispers back to me in a vain attempt to free herself. Yet she does not move, she does not stop her panting for me. Her body has surrendered, and her mind is slowly accepting the truth.

  “Of course you do,” I breathe out, letting the sweet vanilla air wash over her. I pull her closer to me, so that we are almost as one. Her chest heaves against me erotically and she struggles to catch her breath. I lean her back over my arm, opening up her perfect pink neck to me, and I nuzzle in, drinking up her scent as I kiss along the sensitive skin.

  I’ve wanted this from the very moment I saw her. It feels like my very being has been about this moment in time. I stare into her perfect blue eyes, like crystals shining up at me from the ocean floor. What once was cloudy is now clear and I grind my body against hers.

  I need to feel her.

  All of her. To feel myself inside her, owning her and possessing her to the very core of her being.

  “You want me, Mia.” I need to hear her say it. For those soft, pink lips to open up and tell me that she is finally mine. Always. I kiss her neck again, holding back the urge to bite into her and drink her sweet nectar.

  I look once more into her eyes, my lips brushing against hers. Electricity shoots between our mouths.

  “No.” She whispers it so softly I think I must have dreamt it. But then she frees herself from my grip and steps away.

  “No?” I look at her in confusion. She was there. I know she was there, in the moment with me. “No? What do you mean no?” I shake my head. This must be a dream—a nightmare. I step forward with a grin, and she steps backwards.

  “I said no.” She runs her hands through her hair, breathing heavily.

  I don’t understand. I can see her wanting, and smell her lust from here.

  “Mia, it’s just a little fun. I want you. You want me. Let me take your body to places of exquisite pleasure. I know you want to.” I look her over with a hungry flare.

  “But I love Oliver.” Her eyes are dull, sad even when she says his name.

  “I don’t care.” Anger begins to pulse in me.

  “Well, I do.” Her eyes glare at me defiantly.

  “I want you!” I snap.

  “Tough,” she retaliates.

  “Tough!” Did she really just say tough to me?

  Anger surges through my veins. “You can’t say tough to me! I want you and I’m going to have you, Mia. And you’re going to enjoy it.” I see the spell cracking around her. “No one says no to me.”

  “Well I just did.” Her face mirrors mine. Anger coursing through her body as she backs away from me. “I only came here to see if you knew anything about Oliver, to see if you would help me find him. To see if there was any humanity left in you.”

  She’s going to leave. She’s going to leave me again!

  I growl as she takes another step away from me. “I can see now that there isn’t. Because even if you knew something, you wouldn’t tell me anyway. Would you, Mr Breckt?” She turns to leave.

  “Don’t do this, Mia.” I can’t control it any longer. The predator in me isn’t used to being tamed and controlled. It wants out, but if I let it out, I’ll kill her. I’ll kill everyone.

  Oh god, I think I’m going to cry. The war inside me rebels against its restraints. Hate, lust, passion, love, hunger, anger—they spill from me in waves.

  “Mia, please.” I beg. My cold, dead heart is broken and crushed.

  She walks to the chair to get her coat and bag.

  “Don’t go.” My voice is flat of emotion, but there must be something in it because she stops her forward momentum. She has killed me. I have died a thousand deaths for this woman and she cares not. Tears stream down my face and shame washes over me at what she has reduced me to—a pitiful wreck of a man, and not the dangerous predator I’m so used to being. Yet still all I can think about doing…is taking her, staking my claim on her body. The heavy burden of emotions weighs me down and a moan of self-pity escapes my lips.

  She turns back around slowly, her eyes widening in horror when she takes me in. The final bubble of her innocence pops.

  Now she sees me for who I really am.

  I am a vampire. Whether she wants me or not…she will be mine.

  Twenty-four

  Mia

  What is he? My heart shudders and my mouth is suddenly dry. I feel like I’ve walked on to the set of a horror movie.

  My feet move under a will of their own, walking backwards to get away from the monster before me. But before I can make it five steps he is in front of me, crushing his body to mine. I didn’t see him move, and yet he is here. I stand frozen in fear that he will kill me.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” He spits the words out. His face contorted in anger. I see his masquerade slide, and I whimper. It frightens me to my very core.

  “I just want you to want me,” he sobs. His cheek is against mine as he holds me tighter. I feel his blood-red tears smearing against my skin and I want to pull away. I dare not breathe—I try to hold my breath for as long as I can. My heart beats relentlessly in my chest, thudding against my rib cage so hard I think it might break. My thoughts whirl around until I finally ask.

  “What are you?”

  Even as I ask it, I know the answer. I gulp down the bile in my mouth. I can smell the blood on him. Smell its iron richness seeping from his eyes, and all my brain can think is whose blood is it?

  “It doesn’t matter what I am.” He holds me fiercely by my upper arms and stares into my face. His sweet smell of vanilla washes over me, but it's tainted with the smell of blood. My eyes widen further in horror.

  “Mia.” He shakes me to get my attention back to him, his fingers digging painfully into my soft flesh. “Mia, look at me. It doesn’t matter what I am, it doesn’t change anything.”

  I shake my head at him, my eyes brimming with my own salty tears that spill over and down my cheeks. They are mercifully clear—unlike his. How can he think that this doesn’t matter, that it doesn’t change anything? It changes everything, and yet nothing all at the same time.

  My face pinches in confusion and then relaxes when I come to a conclusion. He’s right. This doesn’t change anything. I still do not want him; even if it means my de
ath. I pull back from his grasp. His nails pierce my skin and I flinch, a yelp leaving my lips.

  “Oh, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” He rubs the skin on my arms, leaving a smear of blood. He looks at his fingers, staring at the red on the tips—almost dazed by it.

  “I’ve dreamed of this…of you,” he looks at me, “in my arms, like this. Your blood in my mouth.” He licks the end of his finger, keeping his gaze fixed on me. His eyebrows rise as he delights in the taste of my blood, a groan erupting from the back of his throat. “Oh, Mia,” he gasps my name.

  I watch, mesmerised by the man in front of me, and I wonder what will happen next.

  “You are everything I thought you would be, Mia.” He swallows loudly, lost in his reverie. I stare, my own eyes wide with fear.

  “Mia, I…”

  “What are you?” I ask again. The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

  He shakes his head sadly. “You know what I am.” His voice is quiet, his shoulders slumped. There is nothing left of the man I first encountered. The man before me is a broken, empty shell. I look upon his beautiful, handsome face, stained with blood-red tears, and shake my head in denial.

  I look at him numb. I’m confused and terrified. What does he want with me? The pieces fall together when I realise I know what he wants. What he’s wanted all along. Me…my blood!

  “No.” I look away from him. “No, no, get away from me.” I pull gently at first and when his grip tightens, I fight. I fight him with all that I have. I scream and kick to get away, but he overpowers me with ease. Pinning me against the desk and pushing me back on it, he slips himself between my thighs, holding my arms above my head.

  “Stop it, Mia,” he begs. “Mia, calm down.”

  I wriggle and squirm under his weight. “STOP IT, MIA!” His voice booms around the small room and I stop abruptly, frightened by his sudden anger. My body goes limp as he continues to hold me in place. He shudders and pushes his face against my neck, kissing up along to my earlobe before taking it into his mouth and sucking it. I whimper under him, my chest beating heavily against his. Tears spill from my eyes, leaving trails down the sides of my face. His soft lips gently kiss a tear away and he looks back up to me.

  “Don’t be frightened of me, Mia. I’ve waited so long for you.” He takes a shaky breath, his face close to mine, while he attempts to pull me up to standing. But my legs have turned to jelly and will not hold my weight, so I slide to the floor with Mr Breckt by my side, supporting me when we land in a heap together.

  I cry as he cradles me in his arms and strokes my hair, attempting to soothe me. I’m not sure why he’s trying to comfort me though. It’s his presence that’s making me cry.

  “Hush, hush, Mia, I’m here. I’m here for you.” He kisses the top of my head. “The things I have had to do to get you, baby. But it’s all been worth it, you’re here now…you’re mine now,” he coos into my hair.

  I cry louder and push him, but he holds me tighter against him. My hair sticks to my tear-sodden cheeks.

  “Hush, Mia.” He’s rocking me in his arms and I am beyond terrified.

  Mr Breckt’s words pierce my terror as he whispers into my ear. “You know what I am.”

  “Vampire,” I say quietly.

  “Yes.”

  I close my eyes, feeling his tears dripping on to my head. My thoughts collide into one another. This cannot be happening; this can’t be real. I don’t want to look at him. I wonder if he will still look the same or if it will be like in the films. Will he become my worst nightmare? Will he kill me?

  Oh god, he’s going to kill me.

  “You are mine now. Do you understand, Mia? You are mine, forever,” his words are soft but the meaning is deadly.

  I freeze. My crying stops and the room falls silent. He tenses under me, waiting for my response.

  “It’s not like what you read about, Mia. In all the books, in all the films, it’s not like that. We—vampires—we mate for life.”

  His lips press against my head as he kisses me again.

  “And I have chosen you, Mia. You are to be my chosen one. We will be together forever, baby.”

  He strokes my hair, twirling strands of it in his fingers, lifting it up to the light and then letting it fall again. He smiles as he watches, seemingly mesmerised by it. I’m frozen, unable to accept what is happening. Death would be a better option than this. To be his for all eternity, there can be no greater horror.

  I think on all the things that have happened since Mr Breckt has come into my life and everything seems to fall apart and fall into place at the same time. His power over me, the way he makes me feel, the way he affects everyone. He can have anyone he wants, so why me? I think of Rachael and wish that I wouldn’t have snuck out, wish that I had told her where I was going. Left a note—anything!

  Oliver, I think sadly. I miss him so much. Oliver. My misery of missing him, of never knowing what has truly happened to him, drowns out all other emotions. I hope that one day I get to see Oliver again. Maybe one day, perhaps on the other side of this life, we can be together again. I pray that he is at peace finally. My tears have stopped; there seems no point in crying anymore. I cannot fight him. No one can fight him.

  A thought trickles into my subconscious as I am letting go of the last of my willpower.

  Oliver.

  “What have you done to him?” I ask quietly.

  His hand stops trailing my cheek for a split second, and then moves back to my hair, brushing it off my shoulder.

  “What do you mean, Mia?”

  “You said that you have done things to get me here. What have you done?” A thought is buzzing away at the back of mind, and I scramble to get a grip on it. “What have you done to Oliver?” I try to turn and look at him but he holds me in place. “What have you done to him?” A light bulb flicks on in my head and I struggle against him.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Hush now, Mia.” He strokes up and down my throat lovingly.

  “What have you done to him?” I grasp on to the thought with both hands. Oliver.

  “Hush now, Mia. You’re upset.”

  He has Oliver. Or Oliver is dead, and it’s Mr Breckt that has killed him. I try to push away from him again, but he holds me firmly in his lap.

  “Where is he?” I shout. I don’t care about my own safety anymore; I have to know that he’s okay. Or dead. Either way, I have to know.

  “Stay still.”

  “No, get off me.” I kick out, and he wrestles me flat against the floor, his body on top of mine as he shifts himself into position.

  “You’re not going to do this the easy way are you, Mia?” He grips my chin in his hand and forces my face away from him. “Even now, when your life hangs in the balance, you still think of him! That pitiful human. It’s pathetic, he’s pathetic.”

  I chance a look at him. His face is full of rage, his canines drawn. I squirm under him.

  “Where is he?” I scream, and turn my face to meet his again.

  “Don’t look at me.” He pushes my face away angrily, holding it in place this time. “He’s dead, Mia. Dead! And now…you. Are. Mine,” he says each word staccato, and I cower underneath him. I try to shrink myself away, but his body crushes down on me. He sniffs into my hair.

  “You smell so amazing to me, you have no idea.” He nuzzles into the small space between my shoulder and my head and I feel something nip my skin sharply.

  His teeth. I realise too late. My eyes widen with fear and sadness.

  I feel the pop of my flesh when his fangs pierce me and sink in. He pushes harder against me, groaning when my blood fills his mouth. He sucks harder, gulping me down. It stings with every suck he takes, his teeth occasionally pinching the sensitive skin when he comes back up to look at me and then pushes his face back down. All the while he rocks his hips against me, so erotic the moment must be for him.

  The colours drain away from the world. The sound of my
heart beating is hollow and tinny, reverberating against my ears. The whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of my blood as it pumps around my body until it slows, the blood finally refusing to move around my shell of a body any longer.

  There is nothing.

  Nothing but the feel of him moving on top of me, the tickle of his hair that brushes against my cheek, and his mouth at my neck, draining me of life.

  Nothing but my thoughts of Oliver, when the world turns to black and I leave this life.

  Twenty-Five

  Mia

  I’m cold.

  A slow shiver works its way up my spine. It moves across the tops of my shoulders to the base of my skull and then slithers up and around my neck like a serpent.

  The ground is hard beneath me. And cold…oh so cold. Tingles, as sharp as knifepoints, prick my skin—hundreds of them. They repeatedly sting and bite at every part of me. My eyes move behind closed lids at the painful sensation, and the pinpricks move there, mocking me. They sear, hot and cold.

  Across me.

  In me.

  Through me. I gasp at the intensity of the pain.

  Thunder booms in my head, and the pain stops when I slip back into unconsciousness…

  … Drip, drip, drip.

  Water.

  Ice cold water.

  Someone is bathing me. I feel the pressure of my body being moved, of someone’s dexterous hands pulling my body in different directions. Every motion is flooding me with pain, pumping it through my veins.

  I am unable to stop them, unable to scream at them to stop their slow torture and beg them to leave me alone. Their cloth wipes over my body, wiping down every crevice. It scratches and stings as it drags across my sensitive flesh. I cannot even be embarrassed by my obvious nakedness, the pain is that intense.

  I want to cry out.

  I need to cry out.

  To tell them that they are hurting me, but my mouth won’t work. My throat feels sealed up; my tongue lolls stupidly to one side. Nothing is working. I can only hear and feel.

  I hear a constant dripping, slow and torturous, gnawing at my mind.

  I feel the burning of the cloth which smears its icy particles across my skin. Like glass shards, they shred me, tearing my flesh from my body. Hands clasp under my arms, dragging me across the floor.