by CY Jones
Hunter
Once Remy leaves and I hear the shower running in her bathroom, I quickly gather my things and go to my own room. Taking the quickest shower ever, I change my clothes and seek Cody out. I find him outside staring out into the water deep in thought.
“She told you,” he says in greeting as I approach.
“Yes,” I reply, running my hands through my hair.
“I want to find O'Donnell now and rip his throat out,” I growl. I feel my wolf pacing inside me, dying to be let out to go avenge our mate. For once, since Remy entered our lives, we’re on the same wavelength.
“I saw it, mate. It broke me to be a witness to that and know it’s too late to save her, that I wasn’t there for her in her greatest time of need. I failed her,” he whispers.
“You can’t think like that. You can’t change what’s happened, Cody. You can only be there for her now and make sure nothing like that ever happens to her again.”
“It won’t,” he growls. “So help the Gods, I will burn every man alive who ever dares to touch her without permission.”
I’ve never seen Cody this passionate about anything before, and I can’t say I don’t blame him. I can’t imagine what it was like watching the whole thing go down. Just hearing about it was enough to make me want to go on a killing spree. I’ve already made a vow to myself to do just that. Remy is no longer alone. She has four, maybe soon to be five, mates who will go to hell and back for her. We’ll handle our girl’s demons for her.
“So what now, mate?” Cody asks.
“We live through this crazy plan of her brother’s, and then we go hunting,” I tell him, giving him a wolf’s smile.
Twenty-Seven
Don’t you know coming at me from behind is suicidal?
Remy
By the time I leave the shower Hunter is gone, so I decide to get dressed and take myself on a tour of this huge ass house. I learned the other day from Cody that the house has 10 rooms, each with their own ensuite bathroom and six master bedrooms. I don’t know how much of that is coincidence, considering I have five mates. Besides knowing it’s a Mexican style home and the number of bedrooms and bathrooms, I don’t know much else about the place I apparently own. It’s not like I’m not used to nice places. O’Donnell’s main residence is a castle in Scotland, my brother and I put millions into the flat we share in England, and we also own a couple other homes all over the world. It was just weird that I was given this place. No one outside of my brother has ever given me anything, so yeah I’m still a little shocked.
I don’t give a shite about the aesthetics of the place, or about any of the fancy decor. I want to know the important details like the entry and exit points, the stability of the structure, hidden areas, anything that if we’re somehow attacked here, we’d survive it. Maybe it’s the assassin in me, but I don’t fully trust the, ‘I have a spell put on this place’ security. I always have a contingency plan, and a contingency for the contingency plan. You can never be too careful, especially when dealing with a man like Patrick O’Donnell.
I’m checking out the theater room when a warm body steps behind me and wraps their arms around me. The familiar scent of lavender and rain fills my nostrils, the only thing stopping me from gut punching my attacker and flipping him off me.
“Don’t you know coming at me from behind is suicidal? Do you have problems I don’t know about?” I question as I turn in Silas’s arms.
“I don’t know, cumming-in-you from behind sounds like fun,” he coos seductively, teasing me while he turns my words around on me.
“You perv,” I say, slapping him on his shoulder.
“What are you doing in here all alone, love?” he asks.
“I was taking myself on a tour, checking out the house, and looking for weaknesses,” I answer.
“Are you always this paranoid?” Silas questions with a cocked brow.
“You can never be too careful,” I respond, checking out the selection of DVDs.
When I bend lower to read the titles on the lower shelf, Silas steps behind me and whispers in my ear.
“Bending over in these tiny shorts of yours is just asking to get fucked.”
I thought I’d check out the beach today, so I’m wearing an oversized Guns and Roses muscle shirt and white cutoff shorts over my bikini.
“Stay still,” he growls before reaching around me to unbutton my shorts. They slide down my legs effortlessly, and I move them to the side. Pulling the strings on my bikini bottoms they fall to the floor with my shorts, and I’m left naked from the bottom down.
I hear the telltale sound of a belt being undone, followed by the shuffling sound of Silas stepping out his jeans.
“You’re going to be a good girl, and stay very quiet while I fuck you against the entertainment system,” he orders, taking charge.
Lust floods my body, and a shiver of anticipation trails down my back. Unable to speak, I nod my head and whimper when Silas’s fingers enter my pussy to check my readiness.
“So wet. I love that you’re always ready for me to fuck you,” he hums, circling my clit while he adds more pressure. Pulling his finger out, he enters me before I can miss the loss and pounds into my body from behind.
Sex with Silas is fast and fierce. Not like the intense sex I had with Hunter last night when all our sexual tension finally came to ahead. Silas is the broody take charge type. He’s definitely a caveman, and I don’t mind being hit by his club and dragged back to the cave. He makes me come so fucking hard every time. His big cock owns my pussy and seems to know all my sweet spots, like it has its own personal roadmap of my cunt. Reaching around, he pinches my pierced nipple, and I come crying out his name, and Silas follows seconds later coming in me as promised.
This is exactly what I need to chase away the taint of the horrible memories I was forced to relive last night. Hot, consensual sex with the man I’m falling for. I know people with my past usually have two ways of coping. Either they shy away from sex, or they crave it. My response is somewhere in the middle. I’m no whore. I don’t always crave sex. What I feel for my men is an urge that cannot be explained. I want my men every second of everyday that I’m with them. When we’re together, what I went through no longer exists. They’re the remedy to my fear, and the balm to my wounds.
Breathing hard, we both put our clothes back on, and then Silas grabs my hand, pulling me out the room.
“Where are we going?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath.
“Today is my day to teach you. You’ll be learning elemental magic,’ he says turning a corner, and we leave out the back door towards the beach.
“Elemental magic,” I repeat frowning. “Sounds complicated. I thought mages just chanted spells and waved a wand around, like in Harry Potter.”
“It can be complicated if you’re not focused, and when the fuck have you seen me wave anything around, except my dick deep inside your pussy?” he asks, giving me a dirty look. Silas definitely struck me as Team Ravenclaw, but he had a point. I’ve never seen him use a wand or have one anywhere on his person. Maybe Harry Potter isn’t the best frame of reference for this experience.
“I know you’re nervous, Remy but don’t worry, I have faith in you. You can do this,” he tells me, shutting down any excuse I can come up with, considering how unprepared I am.
We both sit cross-legged on the warm sand facing each other..
“Do you know all five elements?” he asks.
“Five?” I repeat. “I thought there were only four.”
“Most people do,” he says with a chuckle “but there are five. Earth, fire, wind, water, and spirit,” he explains, tallying them off on his fingers.
“Spirit. You mean to tell me you can talk to ghosts like in that old Demi Moore movie?” I question, wrinkling my nose. With my luck, I’ll probably channel every person I killed and would need to put a call in to the Ghostbusters. Fuck, I wonder if they're real?
“Are you practicing to be a comedian, or
do you enjoy insulting me?” Silas asks, giving me another dirty look. He’s pissed, and if I don’t get my mouth under control who knows what he’ll do.
“Sorry. I’m just nervous. I didn’t mean to insult you,” I admit, sheepishly.
After giving me another withering look, he continues with his lesson. “Spirit,” he says, narrowing his eyes, “is tied to life. Every living thing has a spirit, from you and me, to a single blade of grass. Our lives are nothing but a balance of our existence. One cannot exist without the other.”
The whole time he’s explaining I keep thinking about The Lion King and the Circle of Life, but I don’t think he would appreciate it if I started humming the song judging by the way he snapped at me earlier, so I wisely keep my mouth shut.
“I’m confused. What exactly can spirit do?”
“Spirit is rare, even more rare than your dreamscaping ability. If spirit did in fact manifest in you, then you would have the ability to pull someone’s spirit from their body and kill them,” he explains.
“Holy shite,” I say slowly.
“As I said. One cannot exist without the other,” he says grimly.
“Have you done that before? Killed someone using spirit?”
“Yes,” he replies, avoiding my gaze. “My father wasn’t a good man. He was dangerous and power hungry. Always looking for the next best thing, never satisfied with what he had. He met O’Donnell and actually thought he could take over his empire, because we came from such a strong mage bloodline, and O’Donnell was only human. He failed and my mother and sister ended up paying the price. I couldn’t allow O’Donnell to hurt my family anymore, so I volunteered to take their place and work for him instead. To prove my loyalty he ordered me to kill my father using spirit. I don’t know how he knew I had the ability. My father must have been dumb enough to tell him.”
“He made you kill your own father?” I gasp. Though honestly, I don’t know why I’m so surprised. This sort of sick, twisted form of payback is what he does best. Isn’t that what he’s been raising me and Rowen to do all our lives?
“Yes, and I did it without hesitation. My mother and sister were innocent in all this. They did not deserve to become slaves to a man like Patrick O’Donnell. My father was the one who should be punished. He’s the one who deserved to die.”
Silas’s finger draws circles in the sand and as much as he’s trying to act nonchalant about his father’s death, I knew it still bothered him. Leaning forward, I grab his cheeks, touching our foreheads together, and stare deeply into his beautiful heterochromia eyes.
“You were also innocent. Never feel guilty for what you had to do to survive, and protect the ones you love,” I tell him, and he nods, understanding that he’s not alone. Silas and I weren’t so different after all.
Clearing his throat, Silas continues on with the lesson. The tender moment we shared put on the back burner while we deal with the current threat presented to us. Just like spirit is the circle of life, O’Donnell is the circle of everything evil.
“You’re not concentrating,” Silas yells at me for the millionth time.
“Yes the fuck I am. This shite isn’t working for me,” I yell back kicking at the sand under my feet. For the last hour, I have been trying and failing to move a spec of sand on this beach with my magic alone. I’ve followed every direction Silas gave me to the tee. Clear your mind, picture what you want the sand to do in your head, and execute it, blah, blah, blah. All the Zen bullshite and Master Miyagi tactics he tried teaching me were just not working.
“This is hopeless,” I yell, throwing my hands up in defeat. “Let’s just face it, Silas, earth is not my element,” I huff in annoyance.
At this rate, I don’t think any element is my element. Giving me an equally annoyed look, Silas tilts his head to the side like an animal eyeing its prey. Without warning, the ground starts to shake under me, rumbling like a volcano ready to erupt. With his eyes still focused solely on me, he raises his hands high up into the air, and I watch in amazement as all the sand around me slowly lifts high up into the air like sparkling crystals. The sand starts swirling around with a twist of his hand and then branches off into tiny tornadoes, growing bigger the closer they come to me.
“Silas,” I shriek, panicking as the tornadoes inch closer.
The tornadoes don’t lessen; in fact, it’s just the opposite. They grow angrier and fiercer the closer they get, whipping my clothes and long braid around like a toy.
“Silas,” I scream again, wondering how far he plans on taking this.
My heart rate is racing, and I can barely see anything in front of me. Crossing my arms to cover my face, I try to hold my body steady as I bend my knees and brace my feet on the ground. The sand storm grows worse around me without any intention of stopping. I bend my knees further and fling my hands out right when the sand tornado was about to hit me. A light feeling encompasses my body, and a strong force rushes out of me. The tornadoes around me die down, the sand falling harmlessly to the ground like rain. About fifty feet away I see a soaking wet Silas rising out of the water.
“Bloody hell,” I mutter under my breath.
“Well, you may suck at earth, but wind is another story,” Silas says with a smile once he reaches the sand.
“You cocky arsehole,” I growl, punching him in the shoulder. “You could have killed me,” I screech.
“You were fine,” he retorts, not in the least bit bothered.
“The hell I was. We haven’t even gotten to another element. What would have happened if I didn’t pull what I just did?” I ask hurt that he would go to such extremes.
Exasperated, Silas runs his hand down his face. “I had to do something. I knew if you felt like your life was in danger your fight or flight instincts would kick in, and you would do whatever you needed to survive, and I was right. That was a powerful force of wind you used.”
I can’t say he’s wrong, but it didn’t mean I like the way he went about it. I really thought he was going to turn me into a Remy sand castle.
“Now we need to figure out what you did differently and replicate it,” Silas says, studying me. “Tell me what it felt like when you tapped into your air power?” He asks.
“I don’t know. I was scared at first, like you were really going to bury me alive, so I panicked, and like you said, my flight or fight instincts kicked in. As soon as the sand tornado was about to touch me, I braced myself for the impact, and a light feeling overcame me, making a strong force exit my body,” I explain, and Silas starts to grin. “What,” I say warily. Silas isn’t known for his smiles. He’s more the sexy, broody type.
“I know what happened,” he answers, smiling wider.
“Well, do tell,” I say dryly, still cautious.
“This whole time, I've been telling you to picture what you wanted to happen, and that wasn’t working.”
“Yeah, so,” I drawl..
“So, you don’t cast like a regular mage. Instead of seeing, you feel. Each of the elements has a different feeling to you, don’t they?” He asks.
“I don’t know. I guess. Fuck,” I growl, throwing my hands up in the air, and the sand under me flies straight up. Smiling, Silas glances up at the sand, and it falls back down to the ground harmlessly.
“What were you feeling just then?” he questions.
“I was frustrated, and I felt something heavy settling in me at the same time,” I try to explain, thinking back.
“Your magic is definitely tied to your emotions. Air feels light to you, and earth feels like a heavy weight. I bet water is a feeling of calmness, and fire is probably tied to your anger.”
“I hope not. Do you know how many fires I’ll start?” I snark.
“Only one way to find out,” he says right before he grabs me and throws me fully clothed into the water. I surface coughing and sputtering water out my mouth and nose. I’m furious as hell and without even thinking about it I fling my arms at Silas, and two fireballs the size of my fist go hurtling t
owards him, which he easily blocks.
“What the hell, Silas?” I yell over the waves. “What’d you do that for?”
“Testing a theory, which once again worked,” he answers smugly.
“I am not a science experiment,” I yell, flipping him off. Stomping out of the water, I try walking back to the house when he grabs me from around my waist, halting my progress.
“I’m sorry, love,” he says, nuzzling his nose into the crook of my neck and making me cave. Stupid bond, and my touchy feely wolf that keeps letting my men get away with murder as long as she can cop a feel.
When he does shite like this it’s hard to stay mad at him. Immediately my anger melts away, and I snuggle closer into his arms. Taking deep, even breaths, I direct that calmness toward the ocean and watch in amazement as the water circles around us like a dance. With half a thought, I nudge the water to return to the ocean, and it does without any complication.
“Oi, I admit it. Maybe you do know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re magnificent, beautiful, and fucking powerful as hell,” he says, palming my cheek. I lean into his touch and revel in the warmth and praise. Training with my men, even my dads, is way different than it was with O’Donnell. They use love and praise to help me along, whereas O’Donnell wielded pain and fear. Both techniques got results, but I like to think love accomplished them faster.
“I think we’ve done enough for today,” he says, pulling back.
I grab his hand and lace his fingers with my own as we walk back to the house.
“What about spirit?” I ask once we’re inside and snuggling on the couch. “What would that feel like?”
He gives me a sad look before he answers. Probably thinking back on his father.
“That is something I won’t be able to tell you. Spirit is balance. It may not have the same feeling to me as it does you, and with your other chosen being a reaper it makes your spirit ability ten times more powerful,” he explains.