Witches Can't Fly

by Nova Archer

  “Oh, Theron. Oh Goddess, yes!” She cried as she squeezed her legs around him, milking him, trying desperately to hang on as her orgasm took her under in a wave of heat and pleasure.

  Gripping her tight around the shoulders, Theron pumped once then twice, then slammed into her, burying his face into her neck and came. She felt every powerful surge, as he emptied himself inside her.

  She didn’t know how long it was before she could think, let alone move. Breathing hard, she ran a hand over Theron’s back, enjoying the feel of his sweaty skin. He groaned, then lifted himself off her to roll onto his back. His arm was over his face and he groaned again.

  “Are we alive?” he asked, his breath fanned her neck, coming out in harsh gasps.

  With her breath mimicking his, she whispered, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Removing his arm, Theron glanced at her and smiled. He tugged on her, drawing her close into the crook of his arm. Once there, he stroked her arm with his fingers, then found her mouth with his. He kissed her so thoroughly it made her toes curl all over again.

  She raised her hand to play with the hair on his chest. It felt leaden and she giggled at the tingles in her muscles. “Are you supposed to feel like Jell-O afterwards?”

  Theron kissed the tip of her nose. “Only if you do right.”

  Yawning, Lyra snuggled in closer. It felt right being here with Theron. As if she fit perfectly alongside him, filling in a missing piece. She couldn’t believe she fought it for so long, when the easiest thing to do was to give in to the magic they made together.

  She yawned again. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

  “It’s okay. I probably deserved it.”

  “But you didn’t. I’m just so...so used to doing things for myself, being on my own. I didn’t know what to do with your concern for me. It scared me.”

  He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her nose again. “I know. It scares me, too.”

  She ran her hand over his chest, loving the way his muscles bunched and flexed under her touch. She could spend the rest of her life right here, in the crook of Theron’s arm, feeling safe and secure...and loved.

  “We can make it work, right? There’s something powerful between us, isn’t there?”

  He lifted her chin with a finger and nodded. “Yes. I’m not going anywhere, Lyra. I’m right here for as long as you want me to be.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  He pressed his lips to her temple and murmured against her skin, “I want to explain everything to you, so there’s nothing keeping us apart.”

  She looked him in the eye, knowing he referred to his dark past. She smiled, letting him know she was ready to hear it.

  With fingers trailing up and down her arm, for both their comfort, he told her everything he’d been keeping inside.

  “I started playing around with spells strictly to test my growing skills. I came into my magic late and didn’t have anyone to guide me. Lucien didn’t allow me much contact with my mother.”

  Lyra could feel him tense as he spoke. She stroked a hand over his chest to soothe him.

  “It’s not an excuse for my behavior but a reason why I was drawn to the power of the dark magic. My father has always been an overriding influence in my life. Pushing me, goading me into being more than everyone else. Power was one thing he respected. And I suppose like all young sons I desperately wanted his respect.”

  “You were raised as a vampire. It’s understandable,” Lyra added, hoping to ease his pain even just a little.

  “I started with small spells, simple incantations that allowed me to acquire the things I desired, in business and with women. After a time, I had a small following who were seduced by my increasing power.” His eyes glossed over as he spoke the next words. “Jenna was so innocent, so trusting and so in love with me she’d do anything I asked of her. I was an ignorant fool to agree. Drunk on power, I had no clue that we were invoking the darkest of spells, that there would be a price to pay. I could feel the heat of the magic inside me. It was so seductive that I wanted to share it with her. But she wasn’t near ready for it—she was too inexperienced. When I forced it from my body into hers, I had no idea what it would do.” He raised his hand to his face and stared at it. “Her hands burned up so quick, like kindling in a fire. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I can still hear her screams in my dreams.”

  Tears streaked down his cheeks. Lyra reached up and wiped them away with the tips of her fingers. He met her gaze and she could see the torment in his eyes. He suffered every day for his past mistakes.

  “What happened to her?”

  He dropped his hand to his side. “She lives in Vienna. She married the doctor who worked on her hands. They have two beautiful children.” His lips lifted into a sad smile. “She’s a painter now. Her hands have been reconstructed. She’s actually quite good. I have a couple of her pieces in my home.”

  “It sounds like she’s forgiven you.”

  “She has.”

  “Then you need to forgive yourself, Theron.” Reaching for him, she kissed him. She could sense the relief in him as she feasted on his lips. She felt it, too.

  Closing her eyes, she felt tears brimming in the corners. She wanted to smack herself for wasting so much time hating Theron when in fact she was in love with him from the very start. His dark past did disturb her, but she knew now how much of a different man he had become. He wasn’t perfect that was for sure, he had his flaws certainly, but underneath it all she knew him to be a moral and compassionate man. Someone she could love for a lifetime.

  Playing with the hair at his navel, she said sleepily, “It’s my birthday tomorrow.”

  He pressed his lips to hers and murmured, “Happy birthday, ma petite sociere.”

  She smiled against his lips. He kissed her again until yawning again; she cuddled against his chest and fell asleep.

  Again Theron was on the dark city street, hunkering down in the shadows waiting for Lyra to walk into the yellow glow of lamplight.

  An icy breeze blew up where he waited, swirling trash and debris around his head. He had to lift a hand to shield his eyes from the flying dirt. That hadn’t happened before.

  There was something innately different about this dream. Before he couldn’t feel his surroundings. He didn’t feel the bite of the cold night air or the unyielding hardness of the cement beneath his feet.

  This time, he experienced everything as if it were truly reality and not a dream.

  But he was still asleep wasn’t he? Curled next to Lyra after making love?

  He waited a little longer before he realized she wasn’t coming. Something had happened.

  As he moved out of his hiding spot, he spied another form walking down the middle of the street. It wasn’t Lyra, but another woman—an older woman with the same auburn hair and striking chestnut eyes.

  “Theron LeNoir,” she called. “I have a message for you.”

  He stepped into the road and walked toward her. The moment she noticed him, she smiled and raised her hand to him.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, suddenly afraid but not of the woman.

  “Search your soul and you will know who I am.”

  He didn’t have to think long. He knew who the woman was; he could see Lyra in her eyes. “Eleanore.”

  She nodded. “I have an urgent message for you.”

  Theron’s whole body quaked in fear. Something dark was happening. He could feel it rushing through his veins like poison.

  “Together you can make it right. Together you are strong. Together your magic can go from dark to light, make things right from wrong.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “You will when the time is right. Now, wake up, Theron.” Her gaze bore into him. Violent shivers rushed over him again, but he tried to shrug them off.

  “Wake up! She’s been taken!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Jolting from sleep, Theron blin
ked back the light streaming in through the window he faced. He put a hand to his chest where his heart hammered. The dream had been so real. Eleanore’s voice still rang in his ears.

  Feeling groggy and fogged over from sleep, he turned to find Lyra, feeling the need to hold her close. He flipped over but found the spot where she had lain empty.

  He sat up and scanned the room. His head spun. Had be been drugged? “Lyra?”

  No answer.

  Heart racing, he yanked back the bedcovers and jumped out of the bed rushing into the adjourning bathroom. Maybe she was showering. The stall was empty, and no residual water dripped from the tap.

  Panic gripping him tight making it difficult to breathe. He rushed down the hall, peering into the other bathroom and found it empty too. He continued to the living room and kitchen. Again, no Lyra.

  The room was spinning. Grabbing the phone, he sat on the sofa and dialed her cell phone number. It rang. He could hear the shrill cry coming from her purse, which was sitting on the kitchen counter where she set it the night before. Disconnecting, he dialed the lab.

  Caine answered on the third ring. “Valorian.”

  “Have you seen Lyra?” he asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice.

  But the vampire must’ve heard it regardless. “What’s happened?”

  “Lyra’s gone.” He paused, unsure of how to say what was in his mind. “I think they’ve taken her.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At Lyra’s.”

  “Stay there. We’re coming. Don’t touch anything else. Her house is a crime scene now.”

  After setting the phone down, Theron didn’t know what to do. Caine had told him to stay put and not do anything, but how could he when the woman he loved had been kidnapped.

  He loved Lyra. The realization didn’t hit him over head like a sledgehammer. He had known for some time; he just hadn’t had the guts to admit it to himself, or to her.

  Now he might not ever get the chance.

  After glancing at the clock in the kitchen, Theron saw it was late afternoon. He didn’t think they would perform the ceremony until full dark, midnight most likely to obtain the best conduit to the dark side of magic. So, the team had little over seven hours to find her. He hoped it would be enough.

  After slipping on his pants, Theron paced the living room trying to figure out how someone could’ve gotten past Lyra’s wards and taken her without waking him. It had to have been a spell of some kind.

  Realization slammed him in the gut. The lavender. Nadja’s kiss. The spell had been on her lips and she had transferred it to him when she had kissed him. Instinctively he had licked his lips afterward hadn’t he? Taking the spell into his mouth.

  It was so much like Lady Ankara’s hallucinatory spell. But this one obviously had tagged him, allowing the follower to find him and enter Lyra’s house without worrying about the wards. And it had successfully knocked him out so Lyra could be taken without waking him. A dark spell for certain.

  A knock came at the door. Theron opened it, ushering in Caine and the rest of the team. They had made it in less than twenty minutes.

  Setting down his kit, Caine had already snapped on latex gloves. He scanned the living room. Without looking at Theron he asked, “Where was she when she was taken?”

  “In bed.”

  Caine looked at him then. “Where were you?”

  Theron arched a brow, not wanting to get into it with the vampire. He was supposed to be a great investigator; he could figure it out on his own.

  Eve stepped in between them. “Enough of the macho crap.” She had an ink blotter in her hand. “I’ll need to take your prints, Theron, so we can distinguish them from the kidnappers.”

  Nodding, he let her do her job. When she finished, he wandered into the bedroom where the others were taking pictures and dusting for prints and collecting fibers. There was nothing he could help with. He felt useless, impotent even.

  Jace glanced at him when he stepped into the room, a look of hostility planted on the lycan’s face. He knew the look; the one which told him point blank Jace thought it was his fault Lyra had been taken. He swallowed it without protest. Because the lycan was right.

  It was his fault.

  “Tell me happened last night,” Caine said from his position by the window. He’d just finished dusted for prints on the glass and ledge. Then added, “Only the relevant stuff, please. I don’t need to know the rest.”

  “I believe Nadja Devanshi spelled me, enabling her, or whoever invoked the spell, to break Lyra’s wards and take her from her bed while I was put under.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The lavender. I tasted it on my lips after she kissed me. It veils the tartness of other potions, the kind that could’ve done what I just described.”

  “Nadja had an alibi for Lori James’ murder. She was at the club. She’s not the one murdering people.”

  “Or she’s not acting alone,” Theron offered.

  “The mistress?” Caine asked.

  Theron nodded. “The lavender tea I had at her home also masked a potion I drank. One she used to try and blackmail me about certain events in my past.”

  “What kind of events?” Jace asked.

  “The kind that makes me very familiar with the spells put on me and with the ceremony that is sure to happen at midnight, if we don’t hurry and find Lyra.”

  “Black magic,” Caine said.

  “Yes.”

  Everyone was staring at him now. He was certain every one of them wanted to hurt him in some way, for losing one of the team, losing someone so important to them. Little did they know Lyra was now the most essential person in his life as well. By the looks in their eyes, he didn’t think they’d listen or care.

  “Why Lyra?” Caine asked.

  “Because Lyra is the final piece in this puzzle. She’s the sacrificial virgin they need to complete the ceremony and open the portal to hell. Literally.” He sighed. “But they will discover that Lyra is not a virgin any longer and I’m not sure how they will react.”

  “Why tonight?”

  “Because it’s her birthday.”

  Caine closed his eyes and swore. Eve grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “How long have you known this?” he bit out through a clenched jaw.

  Theron met his gaze, owning up to his mistake, his omission that may cause the woman he loved to die. “For a couple of days now. That’s why I volunteered to be her bodyguard. I knew they would eventually come after her. I wanted to keep her safe.”

  “Fine job you did there, asshole.” Jace growled, as he got to his feet from his crouch near the bed. Clenching his hands, he started toward Theron, murder flashing his eyes. “I’m going to rip you apart for this.”

  Caine grabbed the lycan by the arm. “Jace. Stop. That won’t help, however much it might feel good to do.”

  “May I suggest you keep your anger until after we find Lyra,” Theron said, “Then you may try and rip me apart if you like.”

  “Oh, I like,” Jace grunted.

  Caine glanced at his watch. “Okay, we’re on a time clock, people. Let’s get all the evidence we have back to the lab to process. Lyra’s counting on us to do our jobs right.”

  “Do we really have time to process evidence, Caine? I think it’s obvious who has Lyra,” Theron said, anxiety racing through him. He hated standing here doing nothing, when he knew exactly where they were keeping Lyra.

  “If the mistress is behind this, we need all the evidence we can get to convict her. Politics won’t be on our side in this one.”

  “Does it really matter at this point?” Theron asked. “A conviction? Do you really think you’re going to get one even if you have the evidence? This city is run by Ankara and vampires like her. Heck, I bet half of them are even a part of this.” He ran a hand over his face, exasperation making his hands shake. “It’s a quest for power, Caine, by those with power.”

  Caine stared at Theron. He knew Theron was right. Bein
g a vampire himself, he knew exactly what went on behind the scenes. He had to know no matter what they found to convict the mistress of a crime, she wouldn’t be going to jail or in front of a jury. The law wasn’t going to work for them this time.

  Mahina marched into the bedroom. “I found a witness who saw a black sedan parked on the street around 3 a.m.”

  “Did they happen to get a license plate?” Caine asked, his voice tinged with the hope everyone else was certainly feeling.

  The lycan police captain grinned. “Oh yeah, they did. I got it, and already ran it. Guess who it belongs to?” She paused, glancing at her notebook. “Jerome Spindler, Lady Ankara Jannali’s assistant and jack-of-all-trades, including kidnapper.”

  After Mahina’s announcement, Caine glanced at everyone, meeting each of their gazes. Theron could see the cold fury on the vampire’s face. It reflected his own.

  “If we do this and we’re wrong, it could mean our jobs.” He put his arm around his wife. “I need to know if everyone is okay with that. If you’re not, you can stay out of it. No one will think any less of you.”

  “I’m in,” Eve said without hesitation. Theron wasn’t surprised. He had heard about her kidnapping after the first set of murders.

  “We’re in.” Tala grabbed Jace’s hand and squeezed. Jace nodded.

  Mahina tucked her notebook into her inner jacket pocket. “You don’t even have to ask, Valorian.”

  Caine’s gaze settled on Theron. He could feel the vampire trying to read him. Theron relaxed and let him in. He had nothing to hide anymore.

  “Do you love her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you willing to do whatever it takes to get her back?”

  “Yes.”

  Caine nodded, satisfied. “Okay. We need a game plan.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. “It’s too bad the baron is such a coward, his consent actually might help in this situation.”

  A second later, Laal walked into the bedroom. “I came as fast I as I could.” He patted at his hair which was in disarray and not slicked back like usual. “I have a message from Rick. He says the DNA belongs to Ankara Jannali. That was what Gwen found out.”