by Brenda Trim
He had already waited too long to be with her, and as a result, he had no energy. His heart was racing and he had the chills. But that dulled in comparison to what was really bothering him. He hated the idea that they were starting off on the wrong foot. There should never be lies between Fated Mates.
“I told you that this takes time. She doesn’t trust me yet. She may have sex with me, but that doesn’t mean she is going to share her innermost secrets. The Rowans are smarter than you think,” he told her.
He stood next to his son’s prison, looking down into his shattered eyes. When he had entered the room, Cele had been screaming at Donovan. Something had happened to upset her. He had known it the moment she had called him on the phone and ordered him to come to her house immediately.
He took a deep breath, seeking a calm he didn’t feel. The faint scent of peaches teased his nostril, putting him on alert. As covertly as possible, he glanced around the room, but didn’t notice anything out of place from the last time he had been there, yet he could swear Isis had been somewhere nearby.
“And, I told you to get the information at any cost. Maybe this will be more incentive for you,” she spat as she grabbed a small knife from a table. The jeweled handle gleamed in the dim lighting of the room. She crossed to the crystal sphere and stopped next to him. She muttered something under her breath then placed her hands together with her fingertips touching the glass. As she separated her palms, the action caused a small slit to open in the glass and she quickly thrust the hand that was holding the knife into the opening.
He knew what she intended to do and he surged toward her. He bounced off her invisible shield and fell to the floor. He jumped to his feet, pounding against it with his fists with all he had left in him. “Don’t touch him!” he screamed. He punched, kicked, and fought to get at her and the blade, but Cele just smirked at his attempts. His son back-peddled in an effort to get away from her, but he had nowhere to go.
“Get me that information. I’m not sure how much more poor Donovan can handle,” she murmured as she gently traced the weapon across his chest, slicing his shirt open. She flicked the fabric away and made an incision in the exposed flesh. Bright, red blood trickled from the injury as his son wept. With enough rage to bring down Lucifer himself, Braeden cried out to the Goddess.
Knowing he had no other choice, he turned to Cele, letting all his hatred burn through his eyes. “Fucking bitch! Leave my son alone. I will get you your information, but stop torturing my innocent baby. After I do what you ask, you will regret the day you laid eyes on me.” He felt what little strength he had, waning. He was helpless and watching the hope and faith die in Donovan’s eyes crushed something vital in him.
There was no way around betraying his mate. Cele possessed extraordinary powers, and would kill his son if he failed. He vowed his son would look at him with faith and love again, hating that the cost was going to be the faith and love of his Fated Mate.
“You have forty-eight hours. Now, go to that little witch, restore your energy, and discover her weaknesses.”
*****
Braeden needed Isis as much as he needed to breathe at this point. If he didn’t have sex with her soon, he would become the worst demon imaginable, raping and killing indiscriminately. No one, human or supernatural, would be safe from him if he lost control completely.
Rather than give himself over to the beast, he recalled the energy boost Isis had given him. A simple kiss from his mate had given him strength beyond anything he’d ever known. But on the flip-side, being away from her for only a day had come with a greater cost than he’d anticipated. He couldn’t remember the last time he was in dire straits of needing sex.
He checked his image in the rearview mirror before he hopped out of his Jeep. He looked haggard and worn, and his clothing was disheveled. Smoothing his wrinkled button-down, he shut the door of his vehicle and looked through the large picture windows of Black Moon Sabbat. Even outside the building, her sultry, peach scent teased his senses and had him hard as stone.
Isis was with her sisters, and it appeared that they were preparing for a ritual. Pema lit white candles while Suvi smudged the area with sage, and Isis marked a circle on the floor. He understood a little witchcraft, and knew he should leave them to their spell-casting, but that wasn’t an option. He needed to be near her.
As he watched, he couldn’t help but notice that his mate’s movement had an innate sensuality. She was a young immortal who had fully embraced her sexuality and he was drawn to her beyond reason. He recalled the stories Rhys, a fellow cambion, had shared about the month he spent with the witch triplets. At the time, Braeden had been envious of the Dark Warrior and his boasting, yet now he wanted to rip Rhys’ throat out for having slept with Isis. Isis belonged to him.
His thoughts scattered and his steps faltered, nearly causing him to topple to the pavement. He was tired and couldn’t catch his breath, and as he kept walking, sweat began dripping down his back. He put one foot in the street and a bus honked its horn, barreling past him. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, cursing his weakness. His vision was blurring and his body ached as if the bus had actually run him over and backed up a few hundred times.
His body needed sex to replenish its strength. His cock had stiffened, wanting to be buried deep inside Isis, from the moment he stepped out of his jeep and caught her peach scent. As he continued to watch her through the window, she bent over to do something on the floor and his breath caught. He wanted to rip her clothing from her body and fuck her into oblivion. He was near the point of taking her, whether she agreed, or not.
Tinkling sounded as he opened the door to the shop and had all three sisters turning their heads. Before the door closed, a big, burly shifter entered the main room from the back. This must be Ronan, Pema’s mate. His nostrils were flaring, no doubt sensing an aroused cambion had just entered his territory. Braeden would have laughed as the male put his arm protectively around Pema, but he was too close to collapsing.
Isis gasped and rushed to his side. “Oh, Goddess, Braeden. What is it? You look terrible.” She ran her hands over his arms and up to his shoulders, checking for injuries. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her tight against his side, relishing the minor boost in energy.
He leaned down and kissed her, hard. Another shot of adrenaline hit his system, making it easier for him to stand on his own. “Mmmm. I’m weak is all, little flame. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I couldn’t stay away from you.”
Isis dug her nails into his shoulders, her face creased with worry. He rubbed his head on the top of hers, loving how her five-foot nine inch height put her in perfect alignment with his own height. Her hair was like silk against his cheek. “I know why you’re weak and I’m glad you came to me.” She looked up at him and he was lost in her stormy, grey depths. Driven by instincts beyond his control, he bent and once again took her lips. She clung to him and kissed him with a ferocity that only she possessed.
A throat clearing broke them apart and had her flushing as she looked around the room. “I almost forgot they were here. Braeden, you haven’t met my sisters yet. This is my sister, Suvi,” Isis said as she pointed to the black-haired female standing to her right. “And, this is Pema and her mate, Ronan,” she finished, pointing to the witch with long, blonde hair, standing by the bear shifter.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” he inclined his head, letting go of Isis to shake Ronan’s proffered hand.
“You must be Isis’ Fated Mate. It’s nice to finally meet you. Isis told us about you,” Suvi said from where she stood. Braeden sensed that Suvi was upset with him, and understood why. He had dropped Isis off at her home after learning of their mating and disappeared without a word for over twenty-four hours. If someone did that to one of his siblings, he’d be pissed, too.
“Yes, I am her Fated Mate. I know things didn’t get off to the best start, but I hope to fix that.”
“That’ll be up to Isis, but just so you know, we don’t a
llow anyone to hurt our sister. Ask Ronan what happened to the last person who tried,” Suvi said with a hard edge to her smile.
“We protect our own,” Pema reiterated. He felt Isis stiffen beside him and wrapped her tighter in his arms.
“Stop it, you two,” Isis said between gritted teeth. The lights flickered, drawing her attention. He watched her take a few deep breaths as she eyed the lights. “Like Suvi said, this is between me and Braeden.”
Isis turned in his arms and gasped when she looked at him. “Wow, you look better than when you walked in.”
He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb across her lower lip. “A perk of having you as a Fated Mate. Your kiss works wonders. Finish with your sisters and then we’ll talk.”
She watched him warily, searching his face before finally nodding her agreement. “Stay right here, this won’t take long. We’ve already done most of the prep work. Alright, let’s get this done,” Isis told her sisters.
“Ronan, can you get that sphere from the backroom?” Pema asked, giving her mate a saucy smile.
Braeden watched the sisters enter the circle Isis had drawn and scatter dried flowers over the chalk line. Ronan reentered the room and handed Pema a small crystal globe before Isis finished laying the flowers, sealing the circle. The sisters turned their backs and began a Gaelic chant.
He felt the magic of their combined power and watched the crystal float to hover above them and his heart dropped to his stomach. It was the size of a beach ball and held a porcelain angel in the middle. It reminded him of his son’s prison and he inadvertently clenched his fists, fighting his anger. He had been so consumed with Isis from the moment he walked in the door that he had almost let himself forget what his purpose was. He wasn’t there to begin a mating with Isis, but was there to deceive her and gather information to betray her to her enemy.
The air thickened with their magic, and lights played about the circle. He felt tendrils ripple from the sisters, and then they clasped hands. The effect was staggering to his already tired body. It was as if the magic reached out and took the last of his strength, pulling him into their spell. He had no idea what was going on as they continued their chanting, their heads thrown back.
He glanced at Ronan and saw that the bear was just as involved in the spell as he was. When all three females switched to English and continued chanting, a pulse blasted, suddenly knocking him on his ass. He sat on the cold concrete, staring up at the witches. He noticed Ronan had staggered back several steps, but the three within the circle were solely focused on the sphere floating above their heads. The smell of black licorice was heavy in the room.
“I wonder if performing the ritual skyclad under the full moon would make a difference,” Pema said as they maintained their connection to one another. Braeden looked back at the picture window, thinking nudity wasn’t a good idea. In fact, he was surprised a customer hadn’t walked in yet.
“I’m sure it would. We are battling dark magic after all, but, it wouldn’t matter if we tried that. There are no windows where the boy is being held and no way to bring the moon in, so we need to perfect this,” Isis observed. Exhilaration hit Braeden hard and fast and he was glad he was already on the floor or he would have surely fallen over. Were they talking about Donovan?
“Maybe we can use erotic stimulation to boost power. You two have ready sex partners and I’m sure I can find someone. Although, my flesh crawls at the idea of having sex in that basement.” Braeden watched Suvi shudder and realized Isis had opened the circle and was approaching him. He had been so lost in thoughts about the possibility of her knowing about his son that he hadn’t heard them break the spell.
“We will try again later,” Isis told her sisters as she crossed the room to him, looking as delicious as ever. Instantly, his cock was hard and aching and he needed her even more. It dawned on him that this was the last female he would ever be with in his long life. His body wouldn’t have it any other way and neither would he. She was sin walking, and had a personality to match. He was coming to love everything about his little flame. The question entered his mind unbidden. How was he going to live with himself after having sex with his Fated Mate, only to stab her in the back?
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Where is your son?” Isis asked as she looked around the rather sparsely furnished living room. She was surprised there were so few personal mementos that typically made a house a home, but there were metal sculptures everywhere. He was extremely talented, and she was impressed. She spotted several pieces she’d like to put in her home.
She had never imagined a cambion living in suburbia. Somehow, she imagined they tended to live in communes where they could join an orgy, anytime, day or night. Not only did he shatter her illusion of how cambions lived, he lived alone with his child, which was rare for supernaturals. Typically they resided in large groups, often including family members, because they didn’t fare well on their own.
She saw a frame on the wall with a collage of pictures, one of them depicting Braeden with a beautiful female and an infant. She figured it had to be his ex and their son. She knew she shouldn’t be jealous of someone who threw away her family, but reasoning went out the window with the mating compulsion. As she fumed and tried to calm herself, she scanned various other photos, and when her eyes caught one in particular, she froze in place. She recognized the boy. He was the stripling that Cele was holding prisoner and her mind reeled from the shock of it.
All of a sudden, puzzle pieces fell into place, explaining why she’d felt like he had been holding something back. Yeah, he was keeping a secret, alright. The biggest secret in the realm, and, it left her more confused and hurt than ever. She couldn’t believe that he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her about this. They may have just recently found out they were mates, but the mating bond snapped into place immediately, and had grown every passing minute. Her burning mark was testimony to how rapidly their connection was growing. None of it made any sense and she didn’t know what to think of any of it.
She wanted to ask him a million questions. Why had Cele kidnapped his son? And why hadn’t he told her about it? Or, asked her for help? Instantly, rage replaced the hurt, causing the glass in the frame to shatter, along with several lightbulbs in the room. Plunged into darkness, Isis’ mind continued to run through a thousand questions and scenarios to the point where she knew she had to get to the bottom of it.
“What just happened? Why did the lights go out?” he asked as he handed her a drink, his finger lingering on her skin. Despite her roiling emotions, that one single touch made her body hum with anticipation.
She took the drink and reined in her temper. If she let herself go down that road any further, she’d cause an earthquake and bring his house to the ground. “When I get upset, my emotions manifest in the environment around me. It’s only the strong emotions, like anger, that cause property destruction. Normally, I can control it better. Oh, who am I kidding? Truth is, I’m hot-headed and break shit when I get mad. We have a life-time membership to the ninety-nine-cent-bulb-club,” she half-laughed, realizing Braeden might not find her unique ability all that endearing. “Is this your son?” she asked, pointing to a picture in the broken frame and changing the subject to the topic foremost on her mind. “You never did tell me where he was.”
Her eyes had adjusted to the moonlit room and she watched a shadow cross his features, which he quickly masked behind a sexy-as-sin smile. He could get away with murder with a smile like that. “I like your fire and I like it even more being in the dark with you. Though, I imagine it has caused its fair share of problems for you. That must be a weakness for you.” She cocked her head at his odd phrasing. He was fishing for information and she was fairly certain she knew for whom.
He smiled that smile of his that melted her panties and stepped closer. He ran his finger across the photo and then over her collar bone. “Yes, that’s my Donovan. He’s not here right now. Sit down and make yourself comfortable while I start a fire.”
His touch made her flush with excitement, and Isis wanted to forget what he was planning and get him to open up to her about where his son was. She hadn’t missed that he had completely avoided her question, but chose to let it go for now. She knew that there was something very wrong going on. Before she had seen Cele’s room of horrors, Isis wouldn’t have believed that Cele went around kidnapping innocent striplings. The fact that Cele had her mate’s son was another nail in her coffin. She cursed herself for not being able to save him when she had the chance.
The sight of Braeden bent over placing logs in the fireplace captured her attention, dissolving all other thoughts. There was no sight better than his firm ass encased in his jeans, except perhaps his bare firm ass. Or maybe it was his long, thick, erect cock. Her mouth watered at the image her mind conjured.
She sat on the couch and enjoyed the view. She wanted this male, now. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear she was the one who was a cambion on the verge of turning full succubus. She glanced at the nearest sculpture to keep from attacking him. “I love this piece. The delicate petals make the flower look so real. Suvi loves flowers, and her birthday is coming up. I should get this for her, she’d love it,” she whispered when his gaze heated, erasing everything but their mutual need. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. Music began playing softly in the background, and they began a slow dance.
“That would be your birthday, too, right? When is it? I know just what I’m going to make you,” he responded, dipping her.
She smiled, knowing what she wanted him to make, and it involved a very specific type of steel. “I guess it is. Our birthday is next month on November ninth. Be sure to line the handcuffs so they don’t chafe,” she winked, giving him a taste of her kinky side.