Inevitable (The Curse of Avalon Book 2)

by Sariah Skye

  “Och, ye drama queen!” Trystan said.

  I dared to step a little closer, and Sammy pulled his paw away, held tilting towards the side to peer at me. I cocked my head curiously at him but didn’t step closer.

  “He’s…smaller than I thought he was,” I mused aloud; and it was true. He was wide, and burly, but I always envisioned a bear being twenty stories tall regardless of the breed. With teeth as big as my head.

  Xander laughed from nearby. “He’s roughly the size of Mathias and weighs a bit more when Mathias is demure.”

  I chuckled, as Sammy grunted. Distracted, Trystan took a chance and started for the bear. He growled and flung his large paw out but didn’t actually hit anyone.

  Bash was nearby, fiddling with something out of a fabric pouch. He produced a small glass bottle, filled with an orange substance. “Maybe he’ll take this.”

  “Aye,” Trystan said, holding out an outstretched palm. Bash pressed the bottle into it, and Trystan slowly yanked it inward. “Hey buddy, this might help you feel better.”

  Sammy slowly sat upward, his black eyes trained on the orange bottle in Trystan’s hand. I chuckled into my palm. Sammy eagerly opened up his mouth, revealing a row of large teeth, but they were soon hidden mostly by his waggling tongue as he slurped up the orange drink. “Um, what was that?”

  Bash shrugged. “Just a little something to help relax him. Doesn’t hurt or knock him out, but it should help him feel a bit better while we deal with him.”

  I laughed quietly, as Sammy sighed happily. “Um, did you ever think that perhaps that’s exactly what he wanted?”

  Bash appeared confused, but Xander stepped back, setting the now unnecessary syringe on the stump nearby. “Oh my god she’s right. He totally just wanted to get drunk!”

  “Oh?” Trystan said, sniffing the now empty bottle. He cringed and tossed the bottle aside. “Oi, this oughta have an octane rating, Sebastian! Are you trying to get them all drunk?”

  Bash bit his lower lip, suppressing a grin. “Hey it works, doesn’t it? He’s happy, we can fix him without getting mauled—it’s a win/win!”

  Trystan slumped, sitting unceremoniously on his backside, muttering in Gaelic. “Aye, well at least he’s happy.” Now that the crisis was averted, Trystan glanced at me, and smirked from the side of his mouth. He winked quickly, still grinning as he and Bash poised over the docile bear and tended to his wound.

  Xander stepped back towards me, brushing his shoulder against mine. “You are stunning, Ava,” he whispered, threading his arm with mine.

  I merely blushed under the heat of his gaze. “How did he get hurt?” I asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Bash or Trystan as they dealt with Sammy.

  Xander sighed. “We’re not sure. There’s no sign of the wards being tampered with, but that doesn’t necessarily mean a fucking thing. The cut is clean, so we’ve basically ruled out another animal, rock or tree limb. It’s not easy to get close to Sammy—after all, he is a bear—so the fact that something could get this close to him to do it? It’s concerning.”

  I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. Xander grinned from the corner of his mouth, and I smacked at him playfully, as his dark eyes scoured my boobs. “Stop. There’s an injured bear present. I don’t think he’d appreciate you ogling someone while he’s in pain.”

  Xander snorted. “Does he look like he’s in pain any longer?”

  Raising a brow, I noticed Sammy’s heavy eyelids and his relaxed head, lolled on the ground. I snickered. “Okay, fine. He’s okay. But still. It’s rude.”

  Xander flashed his trademark, sideways cocky-smile. “Ava, dearest, I’m a male. Furthermore, I’m an incubus. And you have beautiful boobs. So I’m sorry—Sammy aside—if I don’t notice is when you should worry. Leave it to Trystan to pick out a dress that shows off all the boobs. Victoria’s Secret certainly doesn’t help, either,” he said, motioning with his half-smirk to the pink lace peeking out from underneath the neckline of the dress.

  I rolled my eyes, pretending to be miffed. I was about to open my mouth to protest, when my bra started pulsing. I jumped lightly and plastered an innocent smile on my face as the vibrations of my phone tickled me.

  “What?” Xander inquired.

  “Nothing.” I smiled with innocence, as I squished my arms across my chest. Xander cautiously eyed me, his smirk turning coy as I inadvertently drew more attention to my cleavage. The voracious look in his gaze sent pleasurable tingles throughout my body and I sucked in a breath. I drew my sight away from him, afraid I couldn’t control myself around the sexy incubus.

  “Phone was ringing, huh?” He asked with a laugh, grinning widely at my obvious discomfort; both from the phone and him.

  “Maybe,” I said as Trystan’s ass began ringing. The chorus of “Princes of the Universe” by Queen rang out from his back pocket.

  “Shit. That’s Mathias. Someone wanna call him back?” Trystan instructed, patting the bear gently on the chest. “Hands full here.”

  Xander produced his phone from his jeans. “Got it.”

  “Why that song for him?” I asked, as Xander dialed Mathias.

  “Because it’s from the show Highlander. About an immortal badass who decapitates his opponents,” Trystan chuckled. “Sound familiar?”

  I winced. “Charming.”

  “Mathias? What’s up?” Xander said next to me, waiting for the gladiator to talk. He scratched his neck thoughtfully and groaned. “She’s here. But—”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “—No, we’ll be there. But we’re dealing with Sammy, so we can’t all leave. He’ll be okay, but…yeah. I’ll meet you there soon.” Xander sighed, swiping the screen a finger and shoving the cell back in his pocket. He turned to me. “Another issue at the club.”

  “What?” I asked, confused. “How can that be? There’s no one there!”

  “Another invisible enchantment. Humans walking by noticed the building shaking, called the police, and everyone came out. Police. Fire department. Of course, no one has any recollection of the so-called problems before,” Xander said, with a scoff.

  “Well we knew that.”

  “Yeah. But the only person who we know that can do that sort of magic…” Xander lifted a brow expectantly.

  “My mother. Shit.”

  “Everything okay?” Trystan asked. Bash was huddled over the bear, with a plastic tube and cotton swab. I had no idea what he was doing, but it looked complicated, so no one addressed him directly.

  “Issue at the Stargazer,” Xander replied. “I’m going to go check it out; Mathias is still there.”

  “You shouldn’t go alone,” Bash commanded, not taking his eyes off the bear.

  “I won’t be, Mathias said Lachlan is going to meet up with me at Fox Hollow, and we’ll drive in together. Safety in numbers and shit.”

  “But—what about from here to there? That’s like, twenty miles on your own. Bash should go too,” I said.

  “I don’t want to leave Trystan by himself,” Xander said, patting my arm affectionately. “Since the…bewitching incident, we decided two of us have to be in the house with you at all times.”

  I narrowed my eyes, giving him a rough shove. I didn’t like being coddled, but reluctantly even I had to admit it wasn’t a bad idea.

  “Besides…” Bash stood, putting a rubber stopper over the end of the plastic tube. “I need to process this.” The tube contained the cotton swab, the end colored with dark red blood, and had a slight purple hue. “There’s some strange magic at work here.”

  “That almost is the same color as the weird crack in the sky,” Xander said. “Before the pages came falling from nowhere.”

  Bash set his mouth in a firm line. “That can’t be good.”

  “Maybe someone tried opening that crack here, and that’s how Sammy got hurt?” Xander suggested, and Bash shrugged.

  “It’s possible.”

  “Shite.” Trystan grumbled. “Xan, before you leave, help me
get Sammy to his den to rest.” His wound was now packed with something black, but he had ceased bleeding. “He’s feeling pretty good right now, so he can’t really walk.”

  “On it.” Xander crooked a finger under my chin, tipping my face upward. “Sorry date night didn’t work out as planned. Maybe this will make up for it a bit, though.”

  I parted my lips in anticipation, as my breath quickened. Xander leaned over and kissed me gently, but passionately. I began to sigh into his mouth when he pulled back, and went to assist Trystan with the bear.

  Oh yeah…it didn’t totally make up for it, but it helped.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Bash and I took the sample of blood— and whatever else he gathered to the house— and upstairs to his nerd laboratory. I tried to keep up with what he was doing, but Bash was a flurry of activity as he dumped the sample in the big, black cauldron. Then he scooped it out with a pair of clear plastic tongs and dunked it into a glass beaker filled with light blue liquid. The fluid immediately hissed, and spilled over, spreading a yellow mist over the table in the lab.

  I coughed into my hand, as Bash pushed me out. “You don’t want to breathe this in.”

  “Why? What the hell is it?” I protested. “And what about you?”

  Bash opened the tall cabinet nearby and pulled out a very intimidating black mask, and white lab jacket. “I only have one of these.”

  Grudgingly, I stepped back out of the lab into Bash’s room as he quickly attempted to close the door on me. He paused momentarily though, pulled me into his arms quickly, and mashed his mouth against mine with a furious abandon. I closed my eyes and sank into his arms, just as he gently pushed me away. “You know…just in case I die.” He winked at me quickly and shut the door.

  “Very funny!” I called back as I stood alone in his room, disappointed, brushing my fingers over my swollen, kiss-abandoned lips. Between Bash and Xander, they were kissed to the brink, and I didn’t get my fill of either of them. “Dammit.” I said, as I felt a shiver of heat prick at my core. I leaned against the door, clenched my eyes shut, and hissed a breath through my teeth. Dear god these boys are going to be the death of me. If I’m not killed by my crazy mother, mauled by a bear, or taken out by a Collector, I was surely going to combust from the heat of unfulfilled desire.

  “Everything okay?” Drawled a Scottish accent, as Trystan leaned in the doorframe.

  I scowled, motioning to the closed door. “He’s disappeared.”

  “Did he say what it was?”

  I shrugged. “No, but everything started fogging over and changing colors when he did a…thing. So he pushed me out the door.” Not before kissing me within an inch of my life, though.

  Trystan folded his arms over his chest. “Aye, best not to get in the way when he’s doing his mad scientist thing. It’s unlikely to kill you, but…we’d rather not take chances.”

  “Right,” I said, skeptically slow.

  Trystan held out a hand and beckoned me with a curled finger. “Guess it’s just you and me for date night.”

  I raised a brow. “Date night? I figured—”

  “There isn’t anything we can do until Mathias and everyone returns. And Bash will be…well, whatever,” he said with a laugh. “I just need to finish something up in the barn.”

  I nodded and placed my hand in his. He lifted his arm and spun me in toward his body. I squealed in both surprise, and thrill at being pressed this closely against him.

  “Och, we need to go. Or else I might feel the need to ravage you in my best friend’s bed. And that would be…” he trailed off, biting his smirk with his top teeth.

  “And that would be…?”

  “Bad. Very bad.” He chuckled, and guided me forward towards the hallway, gently placing his hand on the small of my back. “So, I heard there was wine downstairs?”

  “Um.” I offered him an innocent smile. “Well, there was. I thought you all stood me up.”

  Trystan’s mouth gaped in surprise. “You didn’t drink all of that by yourself?”

  I shrugged lightly. “No, but I probably backwashed in the bottle. I saved it just for you.” I stuck my tongue out at him and quickly dashed down the hallway, thudding down the stairs.

  “Och, you damn enchantress,” I heard him say under his breath as he followed behind.

  Before I reached the kitchen, he caught me by the waist as I stumbled over the bottom step. “Whoa there, how much did you have?” He asked, a glint of playfulness in his green eyes.

  I chuckled shortly. “Hey, I’m just naturally disgraceful.”

  Trystan stepped down off the stair, casually closing the distance between us. Until now, being preoccupied with an injured bear, I hadn’t had time to notice how flippin’ smoking hot the Scot looked in tight blue jeans, and a silky gray tee that hugged the muscular, chiseled curves of his chest, shoulders, and arms. I glanced upwards as he eyed me, and noticed he’d shaved a couple of hours ago; but a ginger five o’clock shadow already dotted his jawline. The gesture was not lost on me because I knew he didn’t generally care about shaving, generally opting for a more rugged appearance.

  His hair was brushed, and softly tousled to one side; it’d grown a bit since I first met him. I liked the purposeful bed-head; it suited him well.

  Swallowing thickly, I finally spoke. “You…dressed up?” Generally, Trystan lived in boxers and the occasional sleeveless shirt. The only time I had seen him dressed up was that day at the Stargazer, when he prevented me from punching out a douchebag.

  “Aye.”

  I caught my lip between my teeth and stifled a grin. I averted his heavy gaze, by tracing the outline of his winged-feather tattoos on his forearms. They began at his wrists and drew upwards and stopped at his elbows. A large eagle’s wingspan also decorated his chest; it was both ridiculously sexy and sad. I knew it was as close as he got to actually having wings again. I winced, thinking back at the many times would Trystan gaze at the birds flying overhead. I knew at one time his eagle form was just as natural to him as his human body, and it pained me that he couldn’t be that free anymore.

  Unless…

  I turned my glimpse up towards him, a coy smile wrapped around my lips.

  “What are ye thinking, lassie?” He twanged, his accent thick. The more distracted he became, the thicker his drawl was. Sometimes I could barely understand him; this was one of those times. Clearly, something distracted him. I just hoped that “something” was me.

  I dared to think it was, as he slid his arms around my back, and pulled me tightly to him. He grinned slyly, gaze skimming over my face, and landing on my cleavage. “What?” I asked, batting my lashes at him innocently.

  Trystan leaned over slightly and grazed my forehead with his. His lips were so close to mine his warm breath tickled me, especially when he spoke softly, “Thu an ath cho àlainn, mo ghràidh.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, shivering gently. He could have just told me “your face looks like a full toilet” and I would have been enthralled; the words, and the way he spoke his native tongue was so sensual. My heart fluttered, swooping down into my stomach as he tightened his arms around me, pressed his hands against my back, and urged me closer. “Did you just call me a toilet?”

  Trystan flinched. “Aye—what?” He asked, confused. He tipped his head back and laughed, his body vibrating against mine.

  “What?” I chuckled awkwardly. My heart beat faster as he grinned at me.

  “Oh Ava, I think your humor and humility are just about the best things about you,” Trystan said with a smirk, as his eyes wandered, carefully searching my face.

  I was about to protest—to say and do something awkward, like I was prone to when my anxiety started to make an appearance—when Trystan trailed a hand over the indent of my hips, and traced the side of my body, stopping when he hit the base of my breasts. “Although, these neachaidh deserve an honorable mention. Two of them,” he said, with a wink of an eye.

  “I—” I snappe
d my mouth shut, as molten heat spread over my cheeks. I didn’t need a translator to determine what that meant.

  His other hand slid under my chin, and he rested his palm on my cheek. “‘You are so beautiful, my darling…’ is what I said in Gaelic,” he whispered.

  “Oh…” I didn’t have time to become anxious because Trystan destroyed any distance between us and kissed me with fiery abandon. His tongue pressed against my lips, prodding for entry. My eyes shut, and my mouth parted, letting him in, and I stifled a low moan. I slipped my arms around his neck, and lifted my leg, curling it around his waist, wanting—needing—to get closer. Trystan was much taller than I, so the height difference was uncomfortable until he crooked his knees, grinding his hardness against the inside of my thigh. His mouth never left mine, as one hand cupped my ass, the other pressed tightly against my back. My heart slammed against my ribcage, and tingles spread throughout my body, settling between my legs.

  Trystan broke the kiss only to trace his lips over my cheek, down my neck. Moaning involuntarily, I allowed my head to tip to the side, giving him better access. He responded with a trail of kisses over my collarbone, dipping his tongue gently into the dip under my throat.

  “Trystan…” I muttered in both desire and confusion, as a heavy sensation clouded my vision. A tiny part of me wanted him to stop, the heaviness blurring my vision as I pried open my eyes, but everything around us swirled in a haze of white light. Trystan responded to my nameless plea by threading his hand through the base of my hair, clutching gently, tipping my face and lips towards him before he crashed his mouth against mine once more.

  “Avie…” Trystan broke the kiss just long enough to stare deeply in my eyes; his irises tinged with the maroon of incubus lust, lids hooded as he panted, suddenly an expression of concern washed over his face.

  And just like that, everything spun out of control. I began to shake violently, and stepped back, wrestling out of his grasp. “No…not again.” I felt the buzzing in the back of my mind once again, not as strong as before but still I was painfully aware of it. Tears pricked at my eyes as I pressed a hand against the Excalibur stone under my dress.