Inevitable (The Curse of Avalon Book 2)

by Sariah Skye

  Still glaring, I stood hesitantly, gazing up at him, purposely avoiding his boxer shorts. Instead, my eyes trailed upwards to his trim waist, and down to the deep V that trailed into his shorts, and…

  Reluctantly, I set the chips and drink on the counter to dab my fingers on the corner of my mouth; because I was sure I was drooling now. I eyed him up and down as he coyly beckoned to me, his arms outstretched.

  Fuck it. I flung myself into his embrace, wrapped my arms around his waist, and buried my face into his hard pectorals. I didn’t know if he shaved, waxed, or if the curse just didn’t let him get hairy, but his chest was perfectly smooth. I had the sudden urge to take my tongue, and trace the outline of his—

  “Ye sure I have no effect on ye?” he drawled with his pronounced Scottish accent. The more distracted he was, the stronger his accent. And right now, I could barely understand him as he spoke, indicating that he was truly distracted.

  “I wouldn’t say that,” I said innocently, peering up at him.

  Trystan’s arms snaked up, a hand pressing against my back, and another threading in the hair at the nape of my neck, tightly grasping at the strands just hard enough to pry my head backwards slightly. My breath caught, as he lowered his lips to the soft spot just under my ear and trailed his tongue over the smooth flesh.

  And, I’m a goner. I let out a quiet moan, all thoughts of snacks and shitter shenanigans far away from my mind.

  I melted into him, suddenly realizing that I was still wearing my pajamas; a slinky, drapey purple tank, and black soft-cotton shorts that were currently hiked up in back due to my mishaps. The air became heady around us as he nipped at my neck, and I panted quietly as my heartbeat quickened. I turned my head towards him, forcing him to focus on my mouth, instead of my neck. He lightly bit my lip before his mouth sought mine, our kiss hungry and demanding. Our hands started roaming; Trystan was most definitely a lover of breasts, one hand eagerly cupped one over my satin top, the other pressed against my neck, forcing me tighter against his eager kiss.

  “Trystan…” I breathed, between kisses as my hands roved over his flat stomach, and even lower, daring to dip into the waistband of his shorts

  Trystan hissed through clenched teeth, and I smirked. Slowly, I removed my hand from his shorts, and held his intoxicating, pleading gaze. He whispered something in Gaelic, his eyes charged, and he gently pushed me by the shoulders backward against the wall of the kitchen. His lips sought mine readily as he wrapped himself around me, lowering himself slightly on his powerful legs to get closer, since he was much taller than me. His legs parted, and he pulled me into him as my hands roved over his taut muscles. His kiss and touch made my mind heavy with desire.

  A shudder of something I wasn’t used to brought me out of my lustful haze; a sudden shock of uncontrollable power, visions of mist and earth, and circles of witches blinded my sight. I cried out in surprise, as the magic swelled under my chest. It tingled and rippled throughout me, and spread throughout my arms, before escaping my fingertips.

  “Och! What the—” he exclaimed, confused, as he was propelled out of my grasp, backwards and flat on his ass on the kitchen floor.

  I gasped. Looking at my hands in horror, I stepped away slowly. “Oh my god…” I must have looked terrified, because Trystan’s eyes widened as he stood slowly.

  “I’m fine, Avie. Just fine. See?” He said, his voice calming, as he raised his hands. He turned them over back to front as if to prove his point. “No harm done.”

  “No harm done? No harm done!? What did I just do, Trystan!?” A sick feeling weighted down my stomach, causing the bile to rise in my esophagus.

  Trystan slowly stepped forward, holding out a hand. “Just come here, luv. I promise, it’s fine.”

  I shook my head rapidly, quickly stumbled backward, and collapsed into a chair that wasn’t pushed in all the way.

  Ignoring my protests, Trystan stood over me, clamped his hands over my forearms, boosting me to my feet. I wriggled, trying to free myself from his clutches; but it was halfhearted. I didn’t really want to run away from him. I wanted to strip off all my clothes, his boxers, shove him onto the counter, and jump his bones. Despite the weird surge of magic, my body was still stimulated; heart still palpitating, and breath rapid.

  But I didn’t know what I would do to him. If, by just a kiss, I was able to somehow zap him to his knees—imagine what a full-on fuck-fest would do?

  This wasn’t the first time it happened, either. In the two weeks since I’d been infused—cursed, rather—with the power of the lost Isle of Avalon, anytime I became aroused and started messing around with one of the guys, something happened to one of them. First, it was Xander; I accidentally shocked him with my hand as I gripped his shoulder. That was almost like nothing to him though; Xander frequently channeled lightning, so a little shock wasn’t much to him. Next, when Bash and I were snuggling in his bed, after another one of his nightmares of being burned, I singed his side with a blast of heat. Nothing permanent, it just surprised him. And certainly nothing that stopped him from wanting to finish our bedtime “activities,” but I just couldn’t. Mathias so far had been spared, but I still felt the same strange magic surge with him as I did just now. I assumed though, with his super strength came super pain tolerance, so he wasn’t affected. Yet.

  This was the first time I’d done something so forceful to potentially hurt one of them.

  Until I could figure it out—or get rid of it—I needed to keep the hanky-panky to a minimum. As much as my poor, neglected vagina protested… I had to. For them.

  “Are ya all right, lass?” Trystan’s words were breathy against my cheek as he spoke; I didn’t notice he’d gotten so close. My body did—I was still panting.

  I shook my head quickly, fighting his grip. “Just…stay away Trystan. You all need to stay away!” Reluctantly, Trystan released me. He called for me, but I ignored him, tearing all the way through the house to my bedroom.

  A couple doors opened as I ran, male voices called for me—I assumed Xander and Bash, because I had to pass their bedrooms to get to mine—but I ignored them too. I didn’t breathe easily until I was in my room, door shut, and I twisted the lock shut on the doorknob.

  I flung myself against the smooth wood, and slumped to the floor, still gazing at my hands with absolute dread. The hot tears stung at my eyes as I cried on the floor.

  What the hell was wrong with me!?

  Chapter Two

  I slept restlessly that night, dozing and waking frequently. It was thanks to a strong dose of a “potion” Bash had mixed up that I slept at all. I couldn’t tell what it was, exactly, but it reeked of herbs and a mystery booze. Maybe Vodka? He’d whipped up a flask for me days ago when I couldn’t sleep, and I kept in my nightstand next to all the sweet letters and flowers Xander had surprised me with every morning. It only took a few sips to calm me down, but the visions still woke me up after a time.

  Since being imbued with the magic of Avalon, I had vivid dreams; much like in the vision I had when my father helped rescue me from my mother’s clutches. Dreams of the beautiful scenery I wished I could touch from the blue waters of the cold lake that surrounded the isle, to the heavy mists that hung in the air shrouding it from outsiders. Heavy trees full of moss, and cricked with age, hung overhead a circle of witches that I had never met before, but they still felt oddly familiar.

  Then there were other dreams so real, and so sexual in nature, I woke up completely drenched with heat and sweat. Dreams of myself and the guys had been in various compromising positions. Like one I just woke from, where Bash and I were going at it on his motorcycle. My top was ripped open as he eagerly fondled my nipples, and I straddled him as he lay on his back on the bike, engine still running. How it didn’t fall over was beyond me—it was a dream, okay? But between the vibration of the engine, and Bash’s thrusts between my legs, I woke up crying out loud. My orgasm in the dream—and in reality—ripping through me like a fire. I was just glad no one
had heard it. Or, if they did, they pretended they didn’t.

  I was still gasping for air, my core still throbbing with its release, when someone knocked on my door.

  “Go away!” I shrieked, both startled and embarrassed.

  “Ava?” The sound of my father’s voice quickly pulled me out of my orgasmic trance. Hmm, maybe he should live here; nothing kills the mood like one of your parents! I sat up quickly, grabbed one of the blankets that I had kicked off myself in bed at night, and wrapped it around my body. I still wore my tank and shorts from last night, and they were rumpled and riding up in spots you definitely didn’t want your father to see.

  “Sex! Errrr—shit! Sec!” I corrected myself, as I darted across the floor, blanket dragging out behind me as I opened the door for him.

  He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised at my appearance. “No offense, Ava, but you look like shit.”

  I glared. “I thought fathers were supposed to be loving and encouraging,” I scoffed, frowning at him.

  He chuckled. “Well, this is me, encouraging you to get into the shower, wash up, and come around with me a bit.”

  “Where?” I asked, suspiciously.

  “Just around the property. We need to talk. The boys are…worried.” He said, with a sigh. “You’ve made some progress with your magic so far, but I think we need to take it up a notch.”

  I grumbled out loud. I motioned in my room, urging him to enter. I plopped myself back on my bed, making sure all the key parts stayed covered with the blanket.

  Lachlan Steele was not a slight slip of a man. He looked awkward as he folded himself on the vanity stool across the room, with his broad shoulders, wide waist (not fat—just muscular), and thick legs. We had similar blonde hair, the very same blue eyes, and complementing features; though obviously, his were more masculine. He wasn’t as large as Mathias, but just slightly smaller than Trystan. In age he appeared to be in his late thirties; but it was hard to tell. Maybe he just looked older to me because he was my dad, I didn’t know.

  “They told you, huh?” I asked rhetorically. I knew they had.

  He nodded slowly. “Yes. Though, the last time I saw you, I suspected was something going on.”

  I wrinkled my nose, looking away. “Great…”

  “Spill. Everything.” He instructed and sighing reluctantly, I obliged. I told him everything, right down to the strange and horny dreams, to desperately wanting to ravage the guys but resisting, to having the bizarre reaction of truly hurting one of them. If he’d been a normal father, I would have felt much stranger telling him about all matters of horniness, but basically, I’d only known him a short while. Our relationship was friendly, not familial, so far. And that was okay. For now, it was what I needed; someone to confide in. After all, he was the only person besides my mother who had any idea what the magic of Avalon could really do to me. The guys had been inadvertently cursed by the magic, but I was actually carrying it.

  And I had no idea what to do with it.

  My father has listened intently and paused before speaking. “For starters, the visions of the isle aren’t surprising. But they’re just that, I think; visions, nothing more. A magical imprint, basically of the past.

  “As far as the guys go, I know it seems like you might be hurting them, but I swear, they can take it. It’s nearly impossible to kill an incubus.” He chuckled dryly. “Trust me, I know.”

  I peeked over the pillow at him and his wry expression clearly indicated distraught experiences, deep inside. But he shook them off and smiled at me. “The power of Avalon can be very sexual in nature and if you don’t give into it, it can come out in weird ways. Like your invisible magic. Or your magical punch.”

  I flung myself back on my bed and groaned. I pulled the pillow over my head, blocking the light out of my eyes. “But I about knocked Trystan out last night. What if I really hurt him? This stuff shouldn’t hurt!” At least, not in the bad way that it was.

  “You won’t.” I heard the vanity chair slide across the floor, and I knew he had risen. “Go take a shower, get dressed, and meet me downstairs. We’ll figure this out, Ava. Just be patient.”

  “Right…” I said, with a sigh. “Patience. Got tons of that.” I showered quickly and dressed in a gray tank and blue jean shorts. I slapped on minimal makeup and wrapped my hair in a messy but on the top of my head. Dark under eye circles and flushed cheeks hidden, I felt a tad better. Smiling wryly at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I made my way downstairs to meet my father.

  People don’t understand just how hot it gets in Minnesota, sometimes. They think we’re just all snow, blizzards, ice, weird accents, and hot dish. Days like today are what most people wouldn’t even begin to envision of the state.

  The sun was blazing hot, not a cloud in the sky. The high hovered around 90˚F, with dew points in the lower seventies, bringing the heat index around 101˚. It’d be much worse if it weren’t for the slight breeze whisking through the trees.

  “This air is making it hard to concentrate!” I complained, wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. The air was heavy, and oppressive; like being in your bathroom while running the shower and keeping the door shut.

  “I know, we’ll go in in a bit. I just don’t want you to accidentally take out one of the basement columns if you aim wrong,” Lachlan insisted. “Try again.”

  So far, with enough concentration, I was able to shimmer in and out, but not stay outright invisible. Which was an improvement. My father claimed now that the Avalon magic was so strong, that I should be able to feel something tangible inside and be able to call for it. Before, it was more of an instinct that I wasn’t used to having, so this could actually work in my favor.

  I knew he was trying to make me feel better. It was working a little—except for the rotten heat.

  “Och, this is disgusting,” Trystan protested, carrying a plastic bin in front of him as he did his rounds feeding the various animals on the property. Like usual, he was scantily clad, only wearing a pair of moisture-wicking tan shorts, and no shirt. Watching him was obviously distracting; the muscles on his arms and back flexing and tensing as he carried the heavy box. He winked at me as I stood in my video-game fighter pose, attempting to channel the magic inside into an invisible jolt like I did to him yesterday. “It never gets this hot in Scotland! Hurry up and learn that shite, so we can go already!” The last time Excalibur—yes, the damn sword in the legends—was seen, my father had it on a beach. The Lady of the Lake took it back as he slept near the shoreline, but not before prying the single gem—a sparkling sapphire—and giving it to him. We eventually would need the sword to help take out Morgaine—my damn mother. But for now, all the guys, including my father, agreed that until I could get control of my abilities, and as long as the supe world was quiet (which it was; Bash kept close tabs on it through the supernatural void web), we could wait.

  So far, so good. No missing supes in two weeks now, which meant my mother wasn’t kidnapping people and using them for human sacrifices in her spells. Yuck.

  “I like that idea. Don’t you wear kilts there?” I asked back, tauntingly.

  “Aye. You wanna see what we got underneath ‘em?”

  I bit my lip, daring to think of the possibilities.

  My fingers tingled and I felt that same surge again; the surge that was generally brought on with a strong feeling of lust. It pricked at my fingers, and channeled up my arms, pulling from underneath my heart, which pounded against my ribcage.

  “Do it, Ava!” My father startled me, by exclaiming loudly, and touching my back.

  I yelped, and felt the channel of magic cycle outwards, away from my heart, down my arms, and out of my hands. A silent, invisible blast that about knocked me backward.

  He was watching, so Trystan quickly ducked out of the way, nimbly keeping the cargo in his arms. My father braced me by placing his hands on my shoulders, and the blast hit a nearby bush, splitting it down the center and of
f to each side.

  “Nice! Now I don’t have to prune it!” He winked once again.

  I panted, righting myself, shocked at what I’d done.

  “Get outta here!” My father lightheartedly admonished, shooing the Scot away with a gesture.

  Trystan laughed and walked off, disappearing behind the house to the other side of the property.

  “What was that?” I asked, shaking my hands out at my sides. They felt numb, like I’d just come in from the cold.

  My father smirked. He looked impish, and younger than normal in his V-neck gray tee, jean shorts, and white sneakers. Totally normal, and not at all like a medieval knight of legend. He’d shaved also, normally I’d seen him with a trimmed, blond beard. Today it was gone, probably due to the heat. It was almost a bit creepy, because we looked so close in age to think he was really my father.

  “I noticed your lust,” he said with a grin. “I just used it to your advantage. If you pay attention—really pay attention, you can use it. Eventually, I’ll bet you don’t need to be sexually charged to even call on it. The witches of Avalon summoned it as second nature.”

  I spun a finger in the air, rolling my eyes. “Whoop-a-dee-doo for them.”

  Lachlan grabbed my hand, squeezing. “It was good, Ava. Really good. Remember how it feels now, and you might be able to call on it later.”

  I nodded reluctantly. “I hope you’re right. Just glad I don’t need it now.” I jumped slightly, feeling a quake in my pocket. This time it wasn’t anything sexual, but my phone vibrating. I pulled it out and swiped the screen. Summer was text messaging me, confirming me for coffee today.

  “What’s up?” My father asked.

  I held up the phone. “Going to have coffee with Summer in about an hour. So, we’ll have to wrap this up.”

  “Okay. Just one more thing. Let’s go out more where it’s quieter,” he said, pulling me further away from the house, towards the woods. When we about hit the tree line, we stopped. I could no longer hear any of the animals in the distance, or the guys fumbling around in the garage. “Sit down,” he said, picking a spot in the shade, where it was about twenty degrees colder. I breathed a sigh of relief at the cooler temp.