Logan: Her Warlock Protector Book 3

by Hazel Hunter

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  WHEN CAITLIN WOKE up, she could smell the coffee that Logan had already brewed. And if she wasn’t mistaken, the aroma of bacon was in the air as well. Just as she was sitting up, he came through the doorway holding a tray. She took the tray from him and tried to ignore the way her mouth watered at the eggs and bacon heaped out before her.

  “So you’re domestic?”

  “I’ve learned a lot of things over the years.”

  She blushed, thinking of everything that had happened last night.

  “That’s more than true.” Grinning, Caitlin took the coffee cup and took a long sip. “You even make the best coffee I’ve ever had. Is there anything you can’t do?”

  “I’ve never been great at technology. Texting isn’t my thing. I can do the internet okay. Also, knitting eludes.”

  She laughed. It was the stupidest joke she’d ever heard. When Logan didn’t echo her laughter, she just gulped. “No really?”

  “There are long trips in steerage I prefer not to bore you with from my youth. I have no talent for it, make the rows go pear-shaped all the time, completely messed up. I would have made you tea, but I think this is enough for now.”

  “Isn’t caffeine just caffeine?”

  He shook his head and stole a piece of bacon from her plate before she could slap at his hand.

  “Not for the caffeine, for the remnants. You said you can read tea leaves, correct?”

  “I can, but it’s very hard. I do a ton better with my crystal ball.”

  He nodded. “Your senses are already awakening. I can tell by how dilated your pupils are. It’s a process that will continue to intensify, expanding the depth of your divination. If you were to try the tea leaves now, I really think that you’d do better.”

  “So we’re not trying it?”

  “Because the afterglow is still over you, you’re not in a state yet to try accessing your talent. We can do tea reading a bit later.”

  “So you dictate my schedule?”

  He shook his head and kissed her shoulder. “I don’t, but I don’t want you to feel so overwhelmed. These last two days are enough without dumping a reading on you first thing in the morning.”

  “I can handle a lot of things.”

  He kissed her again and his lips were feather light, as always, but she felt it deep in her core, touching her in a way they hadn’t even reached last night. God, she felt badly for all her friends and her sister. This was Nirvana. For the first time in a long time, she felt comfort with her abilities and her heritage. After years of trying to find her answers, they’d landed on her doorstep—and been gorgeous to boot.

  “So, now that I ask questions?” she started, smirking. “You’re going to kiss away my qualms.”

  He captured her lips this time and on his breath she tasted mint intertwined with both coffee and apricot jam.

  “I’m here to do whatever you want,” he said. “Every encounter we have or time you commune willingly with the greater home of nature, you’ll expand your senses and power. You won’t reach ultimate strength unless you initiate, but that’s a choice for you to make. Not every warlock or witch is immortal.”

  “But you are. So you must be…who was she?”

  “She was part of a coven long ago. But I’m part of the Magus Corps now. We’re focused on finding and protecting those who need us.”

  “Must be lonely,” she added, setting the tray on her bedside table. Reaching out, she traced the lines of his finely sculpted pecks. Was it her imagination or was he shivering beneath her touch? Could she even have that much power over an immortal warrior? She was just Caitlin. Sure, she had her gifts, but she couldn’t compare to some fierce warrior witch of time gone by.

  “Is it all about the fight?”

  He stilled, and she watched as his jaw clenched.

  “It can be long, but we have comrades in arms. I’ve just never found a woman, even my initiate partner, who stirred me as you do. But it’s always…”

  She sighed and stroked a bit at his abdomen. “My choice. Is it a choice if I feel like falling into you every time we touch?”

  He laughed, throaty and low and her thighs clenched with need under the sheet.

  “If it makes you feel any better, lass, I burn the same way.” He stood then and collected her plate and cup. “I’m going for a quick walk and then we can practice whatever you need.”

  “Why do you think I need you to vamoose?”

  “I doubt you’re ready to share a shower, and the temptation for unprotected sex…to initiate…is too great. Besides, I have this feeling that you can’t wait to call your sister.”

  She chuckled and let her blanket fall down to her hips, exposing her perky breasts for his viewing pleasure. “Are you sure you’re not a mind reader and, also, are you sure I can’t tempt you?”

  Laughing again, he leaned down and kissed her nipples, letting his tongue stray over her aureolas until she moaned. Pulling back, he grinned. “Don’t tempt me, darling, but you’re easy to read, been staring at your cell phone all morning.”

  “Okay, but be quick. I might need a second round, ahem, just to help with expanding my mind.”

  “Maybe I’ve made a monster,” he added, setting the tray by the sink in the main room and then slipping on his shoes and shirt. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  “I’ll hold you to that or no Knight you’ve ever met will be equal to my wrath.”

  Once she was alone and had recovered from the enviable view of his ass as Logan walked out the door, Caitlin grabbed her phone and dialed her sister. It took five rings before Sheila answered and that scared her a bit. It was highly unlike her eager beaver sis to reply on anything less than the first ring. It scared her more when she heard the tight and abrupt tone that greeted her.

  “What is it?”

  “And good morning to you too. Are you okay?” she asked, standing up and walking over to her dresser to start changing. “Seriously, I’ve never heard you this cranky.”

  It took three beats before her sister answered and on the other end, Caitlin was inundated with ragged breaths. God, had Sheila even slept last night?

  “I’m fine, Mom, I just had a long night.”

  Caitlin stiffened. She and Sheila had always been close and her younger sister was grateful for the time Caitlin had spent raising her once the courts allowed it. Still, that jab hurt and was another odd part of the conversation. Neither of them talked much about their parents; it hurt too much. Sheila was far from a person who would cavalierly throw it in her face.

  “Okay, I just…you know that guy I was telling you about?”

  “Your neighbor Darryl?”

  “Darren.”

  Her sister seemed to come around and squealed on the other end. It was enough to make Caitlin shrink in on herself and point the phone toward the doorway.

  “Uh, no,” she said, speaking more loudly than she might usually have done.

  She was fumbling for her clothing after all and trying to hold the cell phone away from her ears until her sister stepped back from “girl talk Def Con 1” and all the shrieking that went with it.

  “So if it’s not him then who?”

  “That other guy, from work, remember?”

  “Oh the card player, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Why Do You Have All the Luck?”

  Right on more counts than she could possibly know.

  “Yeah,” Caitlin said, finishing sliding on her fluffiest sweater. Maybe Logan would forgive the plethora of preppy argyle sweaters her Aunt Florence had gifted her over the years. Free was free after all. “Anyway, it’s amazing, sis, and I owe a lot of it to you. You told me to just go for it and I did!”

  “I’m glad,” Sheila replied as Caitlin finally held the phone normally. “You caught me at a bad time. I have things to take care of, but we’ll meet soon at Miss Shirley’s Café and talk, right?”

  “Sure. You’re okay, aren’t you? I’m not so blissed out in afterglow that I can’t tell you’
re upset.”

  “I’m fine. I just feel like I’m going through some changes lately, but it’s no big deal. I bet all college students feel like that.”

  “Sure and–” Caitlin said, before she heard a shout and then a thump that seemed to rock her front porch. The Hell? “I’ve gotta go. I promise we’ll talk next weekend, okay?”

  “Caitlin?”

  “Okay love you!” she said, clicking the conversation off and feeling like dirt for leaving her sister hanging.

  Running past Schnapps’s cage, she promised him food soon, and realized she was disappointing people left and right. Still, she burst out onto the porch and was floored by what she saw. Logan had Darren pinned to the wall of his house, one thick forearm pressed against the other man’s throat. Her neighbor’s eyes were bugging out wildly, and his skin had taken on a blue pallor. All around them on the street, people were starting to gather and stare. This was too much even for Baltimorians to ignore.

  Hopping over the railing between their split porches, Caitlin hurried forward and grabbed at Logan’s shoulders. It didn’t do much, just made her realize how strong he was, and that she had no hope of pulling him off just because she wanted to.

  “Damn it, Logan, stop!”

  He turned to her and shook his head. Darren was going scarily limp in his grasp and she didn’t have much time to convince him to stop being so crazy.

  “You have no idea who he is,” Logan said. “This is a Knight Templar. He’s one of their most dangerous lieutenants.”

  “He’s my damn neighbor and you can’t just go around choking people!” she shouted, slapping his face. “Stop now or I’ll call the cops myself.”

  Pain flashed through Logan’s blue eyes, draining them to grey. “You wouldn’t. You know they don’t understand these affairs.”

  “They understand you trying to strangle my friend. Now stop!” she said, pulling her phone back out and starting to dial 9-1-1.

  Logan hesitated, glanced over his shoulder at the crowd, and then, blessfully, let Darren go. “You don’t understand.”

  She rushed over and started rubbing on her neighbor’s back. The color was returning to his cheeks. Caitlin could hear people shuffling down the street, the crowd dispersing now that the spectacle of violence was through. Darren was still limp in her arms, but was at least taking in steady breaths.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah but who is this psycho?”

  She shuddered and looked back at Logan who was pacing. He’d brought her pleasure, connected her to her heritage, and explained about the Magus Corps, but how much did she really know about him? She only knew that Knights were bad and the Corps were saviors because he had said it. It was harder to believe that he was just the good guy here when he’d almost strangled a man in front of her. Caitlin had known Darren for over a month. He was a good man and just a visiting lecturer at Hopkins. There was nothing about him that screamed Knight of the Round Table or whatever the Templars were supposed to be.

  She knew him far more than she knew Logan, no matter how she swore she’d thought their souls had touched.

  Glaring up at him, her voice still raw with pain and confusion, Caitlin added, “Logan, I need you to go or I’ll call the cops. Believe that.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I’M SO SORRY,” she said, handing Darren a cold compress and easing herself down onto the other side of his sofa.

  His place was the same size as hers and the same layout, just reversed. Other than that though, it was as different as night from day. Her place was just thrift store furniture finds and fabrics with Far East or Wiccan patterns on them. She’d be the first to admit it had a Bohemian vibe. Her neighbor, however, had nice, plush leather furniture, clearly some Eddie Bauer matching set, that a visiting lecturer salary could afford. That didn’t mean Mr. Castle didn’t have his own quirks. Oh no. There was a carved oak book case with old tomes that looked like original editions in bound leather. Additionally, along the far wall were different paintings of coats of arms. She was most impressed with the collection of medieval weaponry displayed on the shorter wall of the duplex. It included a mace, a broadsword and a few things she had no words for but had seen in movies.

  All looked well polished and pristine.

  “Wow, what is it you lecture in?”

  He blushed and held the compress to his forehead. Soft brown eyes twinkled back at hers. For a moment, she was taken aback by his shy smile and the dimples that dotted his cheeks.

  “History of the Dark Ages. I do a lot of genealogy work too. Those are all crests that feed into my family line.” The blush spread to the tips of his ears. “And I must be the biggest nerd in the world.”

  “Not at all,” she replied. “If I had a family to speak of, I’d definitely be interested in following the past lines. It’s important. I understand that more than anything.”

  “May I ask what happened?” he added, leaning closer toward her.

  Caitlin didn’t know who to trust or where to turn and, to top it all off, her senses were on overdrive. Reaching over, he brushed his fingers over the scar on her eyebrow.

  “That looks pretty deep.”

  “I got it when I was a teenager. I…someone killed my parents and left me with that. It’s why I think what you do is cool. Like I said, you only have to ask an orphan to find someone who agrees with you that family is important.” Caitlin sighed. “I’m so sorry about Logan. I thought he was–”

  “Not a raving psycho?” Darren asked, gesturing toward his throat. “I gathered that.”

  “He’s never done anything like that before.”

  “Not to sound awful, but how long have you known him?”

  Her eyes narrowed, even if she’d had those same thoughts herself.

  “I guess not long enough. I know you’re not someone out to harm me. You’ve been too good a neighbor for that. I can’t ever apologize enough. I mean, you have every right to hate me.”

  He nodded and touched her knee. Caitlin fought the urge to scoot away. Somehow, even with the way he’d scared her, Caitlin felt she still belonged to Logan, that the connection between them was that sharp. It felt wrong to be sitting here just chatting with Darren, even if it was platonic.

  Still, she sat there quietly as he continued, “You’re a good neighbor too. You can stay here tonight on my sofa if you’re scared of him coming back.”

  She stood and gathered up her sweater. “No, I know he won’t be, but thank you for understanding and not involving the authorities. I owe you one.” With that, she started to the door, passing by what looked like an honest-to-god iron shield. “Wow, again, you have quite the collectibles!”

  He grinned and, for the first time since she’d met him, the expression didn’t put her at ease.

  "They’re more than that.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  BY THE TIME Caitlin was back home, her head was pounding. There was too much going on in her life: the expansion of her powers, Logan’s rage and her still incessant burning need for him, and even her sister’s cagey nature on the phone. Throw in Darren’s odd coldness as she left, and her whole world was spinning around her. Sighing, she shuffled to the bathroom. Tossing back a few aspirin would at least help alleviate the headache pounding through her brain. Then, hopefully, she could focus and figure out a plan to deal with the Magus Corps and any other trouble they might be bringing with them.

  Besides the desperately needed medicine, Caitlin took a moment to then brush her teeth. Looking out her window, she smiled at the collection of white on the sill. Snow. Some people hated the bitter winters of Charm City and the icy sidewalks and lack of parking that they brought with them.

  She wasn’t like that.

  Maybe it was because some of her favorite memories with her parents involved sledding and hot cocoa or maybe it was the leftover love all kids had for snow days, but Caitlin had always adored the white stuff. Smirking to herself, she quickly dressed, tended to Schnapps’ litter box and f
ood, and then hurried out the door. She’d even made a point to put on gloves.

  Except it hadn’t snowed.

  Everything was clear and bright, all the way down to the pavement.

  Confused, Caitlin blinked at everything before her. Then, turning around, she spied her doorway. It had the same white substance on it. Leaning down, she stuck her hand in and took a quick sniff. A sharp tang filled her nostrils, and she realized it was nothing more than table salt. A quick flick of her tongue confirmed it.

  “The Hell?”

  Why would anyone put salt at her doorway and windowsills?

  It had to be the same person who stole her spell book and moved her altar around, but why even bother with the salt. Looking up, Caitlin’s blood froze. The salt wasn’t the only change to her apartment.

  No.

  On the side of her house by the front door, emblazoned against the grey siding, was a phrase written in bright red spray paint. She didn’t know what it said because it was in Latin. She’d had a bit of catechism as a kid and seen a few horror movies since then. At least she could place the language, not that it made her feel any better. The one word she could make out was mori and that made bile rise in her throat.

  She’d have to call the cops and wait for someone to give her the official translation, but Logan wasn’t wrong about the Knights. It might not be Darren, but someone out there was hunting her and, if her Latin was correct, they wanted her dead.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  LOGAN WANTED TO stay with her. He’d have concealed himself in the bushes if he thought he could get away with it, keeping a vigil for her, but he couldn’t. Even if most of the neighbors had scattered once he’d headed toward his car, there was no way to obscure his large frame there without drawing attention to himself. Hampden might still have some stray Christmas decorations that were up, but a hubcap Christmas tree wasn’t something he could hide behind. Still, everything within him was still on fire, raging against what he’d seen.