by Sariah Skye
He sat crossed-legged on the ground, and I followed suit. “Hear that?”
I glanced around us. The house and barn were in the distance, the woods nearby were dark, and green meadow we sat in was brilliantly green. Everything looked pretty, but I heard nothing. Nothing that stood out, anyway, except the subdued zephyr rustling the trees nearby. “Not really,” I replied.
“Good,” he said, grinning. I flinched at his expression, feeling unsettled. I’d seen him smile numerous times, but not paid much attention before until now; it was like looking in a mirror—if I’d taken a bunch of testosterone hormones. It was hard to get used to. “Give me your hands,” he instructed.
Eyeing him suspiciously, I placed mine in his and he let them hang between us until we were relaxed. “I want you to just close your eyes and clear your mind. Take a couple of deep breaths and breathe out.”
I obliged, shutting my eyes, and inhaling the heavy hair. I scowled as it weighed down my breath, but felt better as I exhaled. I did that a few more times until I relaxed, only hearing the wind and leaves in the background.
“Okay, I don’t know how it is for you, but for me when I really concentrate, I can almost feel a buzzing from deep inside. You might find it under your heart, or in your stomach but I’ll bet it’s there,” Lachlan instructed softly. “You need to find that place and memorize it.”
My eyes flew open. “A buzzing?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know quite how to explain it. I could try to pull you into another vision like I did that day of the ritual, but with you being so coherent, it might not work right.”
“A buzzing. Okay…” I clamped my eyes shut once more and attempted to find what he instructed. Lachlan brushed the pads of his thumbs over the tops of my hands; if it’d been any of the boys, it would have been distracting to the point of climbing out of my skin. But since it was my father, it was comforting. I breathed in and out slowly, and my mind started wandering. After a few moments I about gave up, when in the back of my mind something began to buzz, like the low-drone of a bee. “I…think I hear it! Like, in the back of my brain, maybe?”
I didn’t open my eyes, but I could feel him as he moved; I assumed he was nodding. “Yes! That’s it! Now just imagine yourself reaching out for it. Picture it as—whatever. A ball of light. A hummingbird. A bolt of electricity—anything. And reach out for it.”
I don’t know why my mind picked this particular imagery, but the only image that came to mind was a wooden drum with white leather pulled taut over the top, and a large mallet, striking it over and over again. The buzzing became a heartbeat, and I explained as such. My father cheered.
“Yes! That’s it! You’ve got it Ava! Now just reach out in your mind. Grab the mallet, strike the drum, whatever, and hold it in your hand.”
I nodded slightly. In my mind, everything was blank except for the drum, but I hesitated to grasp, fearing it’d be out of reach. But, without struggle, it nearly seemed to jump in my hand. I started at the idea, but in my mind, I now held the drum and mallet in each hand.
“I’ve got it…” I said.
“Good. Now just hold it and imagine it with you as you disappear. Picture yourself here with me, in a room—wherever. And hear how everything sounds different when you shift. If you do it right you can actually hear the energy around you change. It’s not loud, and barely noticeable, but if you really pay attention it’s possible.”
“Okay…” I stood in my vision, holding the drum, and pictured myself slowly fading until everything was black. I could swear, I heard a low rumble like summer lightning in the distance as I faded.
My hands were free, and my father clapped excitedly. “You did it, Ava!”
My eyes flew open. “I did?!” I asked with excited uncertainty. The drum obviously disappeared, and I waved my hand before me. I could see it, but… “Am I still gone?”
My father nodded. “Yes! Just stay where you are—I want to try something! Don’t do anything else!” Without any effort at all, he blinked, and reached for my hands again, grinning widely.
I frowned. “Does this mean I stopped?”
He shook his head, looking smug. “No! It means I shifted to the same plane or something as you. I am not sure how else to describe it. And now I can see you, and you can see me, but no one can see us.”
“Really?” I beamed excitedly. “That’s cool!”
He raised an impish brow. “Yes. Now for the test. Let’s go scare your friends.”
And evil smile spread across my face. “Oh, let’s.” I grabbed for his hand as we started across the property. “You know…it just feels easier.”
“Do you still feel the buzz?” He asked, as we walked.
I thought a moment. “It…isn’t a buzz anymore. But like a low rumble of thunder.”
“Perfect.” He grinned. “I think the garage is closer. I saw Bash and Xander fiddling with your car earlier.”
I grimaced. “What? I need that car! Who gave them permission to do that?” I gripped my father’s hand and stalked the distance through the property. The rumbling was still in the back of my mind; I knew the magic was still active.
We carefully tip-toed across the driveway to the huge, multiple-car garage. Both stalls were open; my car was in the right stall, and Xander’s blue Subaru sat untouched in the left, Trystan’s yellow Camaro in front of it.
My boxy little silver Toyota looked like a beater compared to their considerably-nicer-than-my cars. Xander and Bash were leaned over the opened hood of my car, and Bash was fully emerged up to his elbows like he was being swallowed. I stifled a chuckle. What a shitty way to go, being eaten by a twelve-year-old, second-hand Toyota.
Bash emerged from under the hood, and pushed a lock of his sandy blond hair out of his steely-blue eyes with the back of his forearm. He was the shortest of all the guys, only by a couple of inches, but that didn’t mean he was slight at all. He was trimmer than Trystan, but plenty brawny with broad shoulders and chest, thick biceps, and a taut stomach. He was dressed in a ratty white shirt, full of rips and tears, and low-slung blue jeans. Both of which were covered with black grease, as well as the creamy skin on his arms. Except for the grease, it was pretty much how he dressed daily; just add a leather jacket.
Xander wasn’t much cleaner, but he was still hot wearing black jeans, and no shirt, revealing a dragon tattoo on his arm, and Chinese characters on his chest. He tied his hair back with a black bandanna, and had black smears over his stomach, cheek, and arms. Xander was the leanest of the four, with defined muscle that wasn’t big or bulky, but artfully etched over his shoulders and waist. With his exotic black eyes, and olive-toned skin; he was a sharp contrast to all my blonde and milky-skinned paleness. The dark to my light.
I smiled to myself, watching the two messily-gorgeous “mechanics” perched over my car. Xander shifted slightly, leaning over the car a bit further as Bash pointed something out.
I snickered silently to myself and dropped my father’s hand. Still hearing the rumbling, I snuck in between the cars, and carefully edged my way to Xander, who was the closest. Leaned over, his nice, grabbable ass was on prominent display. I glanced mischievously at my father who just rolled his eyes.
With both hands, I cupped my hands into little claws and pawed handfuls out of his sexy butt. Xander’s eyes widened, and he jumped.
“What the—” he glanced all around, searching for the perpetrator. His eyes landed on Bash, and he scowled. “You fucking dirtbag!” He scolded, as he punched his friend in the bicep.
Bash jump, clutching his arm. “Ow! What the fuck, you asshole!”
I leaned against the car and let out peals of laughter. The rumbling inside stopped, and I knew I had dropped the magic.
Both men looked over at me, surprised. Then Xander’s mouth spread into a playful grin. “You!” He wrapped his arms around me, spinning me around, lifting me up slightly in the air. “You snuck up on me, you minx!”
Lachlan coughed pointedly from nearby. O
bviously, he dropped his magic too. Xander smiled sheepishly, lowering me to the ground. Lachlan gestured with a wave, indicating that our display of affection was “fine.”
“What’s going on here?” We all turned our heads, seeing Mathias enter, jingling a set of keys.
I pointed at the two men at my car. “They hijacked my car, and I need to meet Summer for coffee!” I said, as I apprised his attire. Mathias wore a cream-colored, button up shirt, dark gray slacks, and a matching suit coat draped over his arm, and he just exuded power. Mathias was stacked with a burly build, and muscle on top of that, like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. He rarely lifted, though; most of it came naturally because of his supernatural strength. He hovered well over six feet tall, with thick shoulders, barrel chest, and heavy biceps. As always, his deep brown eyes were on prominent display; the hair on the sides of his head cut short, and longer on top. He usually wore it combed backward, and a permanent dark stubble lined his chin. He was sex in a suit—just as the two other cursed incubi were sex-in-greasy-clothing. I had to bite my lip to keep from drooling, they were all so fucking gorgeous in their own ways.
Bash emerged, grabbing a towel that was slung over the side of the car, and wiped his hands and arms off on it. “Hey, you mentioned before that you had a rough time accelerating. Just checking to see what the problem is.”
“You can fix cars too?” I was quickly learning that Bash could pretty much do anything.
“We can do anything, Ava,” Xander smirked smugly. “Just give us a good enough reason.”
I nudged him playfully.
“Just a couple quick repairs. It’s really not a bad car, just needed some TLC. Plus, I added some wards and the like to it,” Bash explained. “Just to make sure you stay safe when you’re driving.”
Mathias let out a pointed cough. “Would one of you follow us to Fox’s Hollow?” He asked, glimpsing at a silver wristwatch, with a large black face. “And hurry, I have somewhere I need to be in about forty-five minutes.”
Xander tossed a look over his shoulder. “Um, I guess that’d be you, Bash. You’re better dressed than I am.”
Bash shrugged. “Sure. You can finish this up?”
Xander scoffed, shoving his friend playfully. “I might not have your voodoo, wūshī, but I think I can manage a changing a fuel filter and shit.”
I offered Xander a sympathetic half-smile. “Aww, you get stuck with the labor and Bash gets to baby-sit. Who has it worse?” I quipped.
Xander flashed me his infamous half-smirk, and an exaggerated wink. “All part of the job, right?”
I patted Xander on his chest. His smooth skin was warm, and tight, and—
OMG I’m totally petting him… I admonished myself, catching myself stroking his pec fondly.
He let out a gentle cough. Leaning over slightly, he kissed the corner of my mouth. “See you later, měilì de nǚhái,” he whispered in his native tongue.
Do not think about his tongue, Avie! My inner monologue scolded once more, as I had to tear myself away from him.
“Ava, I’m going to head out then.” My father announced awkwardly. He embraced me in a quick hug, gave me a fatherly peck on the cheek, and released me. “Unless you could use some help, Xander?”
Xander shrugged. “Two sets of eyes are better than one.”
Lachlan grinned, and slid past me. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” he said with a playful wink. I chuckled.
“Bye, Dad.”
He offered me an appreciative smile. I think it was the first time I really called him “Dad” without thinking about it. He liked it—so did I.
Mathias, who had been standing there silently, waited for me to get into his car. He kept checking his watch, but to his credit he didn’t prod or become cross. The door to his Suburban was open, and even though I was completely capable of clamoring into the large vehicle myself, he offered his hand for support.
I gave him an appreciative smile and placed one of my hands into his considerably larger one. After I stepped up, he placed the other hand on the small of my back to guide me, his touch barely a caress. He mI shivered, feeling pangs of charged electricity jolt through my body. I couldn’t avoid my glance from roving over his body. I breathed in sharply, trying to control the desire he made me feel, hoping that I wouldn’t lose control again.
“You okay?” He asked, eyeing me with concern.
I forced a smile. “Fine!” I replied. He appeared unconvinced, judging by the way the skin puckered between his eyes, but he said no more.
I sighed heavily, as he closed the door behind me. I slumped against the cool leather of his large SUV, purposely trying to block out the scent of his soap and deodorant; and ignore the way his shirt stretched over his thick chest, buttons straining over his pecs. I secretly wished they’d pop open, and I could catch a glimpse of his naked skin.
I groaned again, ignoring Mathias’ penetrating gaze. If I didn’t figure something out with this magic, I was going to ravage all four of them, over and over. And I wasn’t sure they could survive the process, no matter what my dad said.
Chapter Three
Lachlan
I sighed heavily upon entering the small little cabin in the woods, where I called home for the past seventy years. Nadina and I lived off the grid and away from prying eyes; it was safer this way. After hundreds of years living with humanity, I needed the break,
It wasn’t much, but it held its secrets. It was completely hand-constructed by myself with dark-colored logs, sealed with rock and concrete, and a roof made of more logs and wooden planks. About ten years ago, I installed new solar panels on top giving us electricity, which made Nadina insanely happy. Before we’d relied on lanterns, fire, and wooden stoves to heat and cook. The inside was simple; a large living area complete with sofa, fireplace, and a chair. Behind that, a kitchenette with rustic appliances sat on the west wall. To the naked eye, it was nothing special. Hidden by magic was an entire hallway and bedroom so if on the off chance someone found it, we could easily hide. I enjoyed living this way; it reminded me of simpler times, but I knew Nadina was growing weary of the rustic lifestyle. When I spoke of Mathias and the guys’ offer to build us a property in Wild Township, she was excited. I was reluctant, of course. As much as I adored Ava, she needed her space; I needed mine. I’m not a family man and I don’t think she’s ready to fully accept me as such yet. Still, it was a smart idea, living under Sebastian’s heavy wards with other supes. There was safety and security in it, and I didn’t think I’d be able to put off refusing for very long. Especially with Nadina’s insistence.
I tossed the keys to my black Chevy truck on the shiny, wooden table in the center of the cabin. It was the one fixture I always insisted upon having, no matter where we went. The misshapen table had been refurbished from artifacts of my past, and once upon a time, it was much more to look at. Today, it was random pieces of my life, shellacked and fitted together with magic.
Peering into its shiny surface, I gazed longingly for years long gone by. When I felt I had a purpose. When I didn’t need to run and hide who I was. My talents were kept secret from our enemies of course; from rival kingdoms who sought to take us over and destroy the peaceful reign Camelot boasted for many, many years.
Peace. I recalled the notion wistfully. Not much peace in human history since then.
My inner circle new exactly what I was; Arthur relied on my talents to help in the battlefield when our peace was threatened. Fellow knights like Sir Bedivere, Percival, and I had many battles and adventures together. I longed to go back to it.
I smiled wryly, gently passing my hand over the cool, smooth surface of the table. I could almost recall sitting here with Arthur, and Guinevere between us. She was loyal to Arthur, but he knew they were not true loves. She and I were, and he didn’t stand in our way. Arthur was okay with it as his heart belonged to someone else. It was a marriage of politics, but they always remained great friends.
The rest of our friends—the Knights of the
Round Table—would gather around as well. Somedays, it was a small group. Somedays, larger, but there was always a place for you at the Round Table. It magically expanded and retracted in size to fit whoever sat before it; a wonderful piece of magical artistry.
A familiar reflection glistened in a particular panel of light colored, pine wood, measuring about two feet by one foot around, with jagged edges. I grinned. “About time you showed up.”
The reflection scoffed. It shimmered like a mirage and appeared blurred, but I knew who and what it was. Always a welcome sight.
“Lancelot… good to see you,” the reflection replied, with a faraway voice. When the magic was strongest, I could almost see my old friend in detail. Today, it was faded and distant. Still, always good to connect. “I’m afraid my visits are less and less over the years.”
“I have good news though. Avalon has been resurrected,” I said, controlling my tone to not appear too eager.
The reflection cocked a brow. “So, it’s true then.”
“It is. However, not exactly as we hoped,” I said, with a frown.
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Apparently, the magic has been unleashed by Morgaine and into my daughter. I cannot tell how—if any—actually rests in Morgaine, either.”
The reflection frowned. “Ah. That…complicates things.”
“It does. But it is not insurmountable,” I said. “Ava is not confident with the power yet.”
“She does not wish to copulate with the cursed?” The reflection asked.
I grimaced. It was still uncomfortable thinking about my daughter in any kind of relationship with multiple men, no matter how much it was good for her. And them. And me. “She does but…she’s afraid of injuring them.”
“I see.” The reflection heaved a sigh. His face shimmered in the table, becoming more visible for a moment, before fading once again. “I cannot hold this connection much longer.”