Magic and Mayhem: A Collection of 21 Fantasy Novels

by Jasmine Walt

  Smooth.

  She grins and slowly takes her hand out of my pants. Then, she grabs my hand and guides it between her legs. Her body trembles at my touch. She soaks my fingers.

  “More,” she says, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck.

  I lean over and press my lips against her ear. As my fingers slide inside her, I whistle again. She belts out a moan, and her eyes roll up into her head. Sliding my hands up her body, I stop singing and her eyes pop open.

  “What? Why’d you stop?”

  I grin. “Want to see another trick?’

  She bites her lip. “You trying to torture me?”

  I ignore her question while I stare at her. “Take off your clothes.” My voice comes out firm and low.

  Pink flushes her skin. Breathing heavy, she slowly pulls back her coverall, exposing inch after inch of toned, modest curves. With each inch she shows me, I grow an inch for her. I tighten my jaw.

  She’s not much in cup size, but her nipples are hard and perfect. Porn nipples. I lick my lips.

  Not usually what greases my man stick, but she pulls it off. I gesture with my head to the weight bench.

  “Sit.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Ask nicely.”

  With a grin, I saunter toward her, inching her backward until she backs into the bench. After stumbling, she has to sit down.

  She glares up at me, and I wink.

  “Stay.”

  I can feel her glare as I go to kneel down. “Don’t act like you’re not turned on.”

  She juts her chin upward as I gather her coveralls, and then start ripping them to shreds.

  “What are you doing?”

  I place the first, long thin strip of frayed clothing over my shoulder.

  “Put your arms up, all the way above your head.”

  Her eyebrows tighten as hesitation washes over her face.

  “Now,” I say, ripping a second strip of clothing free. “Or, I can do it for you.”

  She lets out a nervous little chuckle, then slowly, arms shaking, she does as I ask. I bind her wrists with the strip of clothing.

  When I tighten it roughly, she gasps, then gives another nervous giggle.

  “So, sirens are kinda freaky, huh?”

  I kneel own and bind her ankles together. “I told you this was a magic trick.” Once I’m satisfied with the knot, I stand back up and rip off the third strip of cloth. Leaning over, I tie it around her eyes, then wave a hand in front of her face.

  “Can you see?”

  “No,” she says with a gasp.

  I back up a few inches. Pausing a moment to enjoy the sight of this hot ass female, blind folded, tied, and butt ass naked. I rub my hands together.

  “And now… I shall make you come without laying a finger on you.”

  She snorts and starts struggling against the restraints. “Yeah, right…”

  I whistle and ease my power over to her like a soft touch. With a gasp, she bites down on her bottom lip and her head falls back. Continuing the song, I focus my mind on one thing. Physical ecstasy.

  Her lips part. She groans. “P… Pike.” Her arms tense as she attempts to lower them. She starts to sway from left to right, trying to slide either arm free.

  Resisting the urge to snatch her up and tear that ass up, I keep going. My jaw clenches with every groan that falls off her lips. I go rigid when she starts to beg.

  “God, oh god-Pike!” She leans over on her side, then lets out another moan. “Please… please just untie me.”

  I inch forward for a closer look at the show. And the show is damn good. Leaning over, I can feel how close she is.

  “Oh, God!” She cries out and, then grinds her teeth together. “Fuck! Untie me!”

  I smile and stop whistling. For a second her body relaxes. Then, I start up again. She tenses up like rigor mortis hit her. Her mouth forms a wide O, then she pants as her body jerks forward. She repeats this a few times, the lets out a long, low wail and rolls onto the floor.

  Leaning over, I watch her squirm while sweat spreads out over her skin. I take in a deep breath. She’s close. To the point of pain.

  I pause the song, inhale, then go again, focused on how I want to make her climb the walls. She rolls over and arches her back, then she screams. I feel the climax with her. It makes me want to touch her.

  I reach over and trail my fingers down her moist stomach.

  Her body clenches.

  “Don’t touch me,” she says, panting.

  I lift my hand and wait. She moans in between each labored breath. When her trembling abates enough, I reach back over and start to untie her.

  When I pull the blindfold off, she gives me a spaced out look, then blows out her breath and runs her fingers through her hair.

  “That was…” She exhales. “Fuck me… after that, no need to feel bad about killing me.

  I smile. “Sure you don’t need a minute?” I wink. “And I wasn’t going to feel bad.”

  She rolls over onto her side and gives that look. Then she gets up on all fours and crawls over to me. Holding herself over me, she lowers her mouth down and pecks my stomach. Then she looks up and says, “You really don’t feel bad?”

  I sweep her hair back and shrug. “No.” My voice comes out raspy.

  A half smile touches her lips. “Is it screwed up that I think that’s hot?”

  Before I respond, she lowers her head and bites my shoulder. I jump, gripping the back of her neck. She starts to claw at me, pulling my clothes off, breathing heavy.

  “Fuck me, Pike,” she breathes.

  I lean forward, then pick her up. Her legs wrap around me.

  “How do you want it, baby girl?”

  “Hard,” she says against my ear. “Slow at first.”

  I back her against the nearest wall and slide inside of her. I exhale relief. She’s feels like warm honey, and tight.

  I take my time sliding in and out, then thrust my hips forward hard at the end of each stroke. When time I do, she rewards me with a sensual moan. Her fingers dig into my scalp.

  “Faster,” she pants before biting into my shoulder.

  I scramble to balance her against the wall, then take her faster. A warm tingle rushes my nuts, and I slow down. She’s starting to feel too good. I take in a few breaths, then get back to it.

  “Oh, hell yes,” she mutters.

  Reaching around, I unwrap her legs, then let her slide down the wall. I take her from behind, grabbing a fistful of her hair. She growls like a frickin’ jungle cat.

  Fucks like one too.

  “Oh, god, Pike.” She slams her hand into the wall. “Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking stop.”

  Sweat rolls down my face and drips onto her back. I force one of her legs up with my knees and take her that way. The tingle is back, and my eyes squeeze shut. Damn, I want to come. But I hold back. My legs start to quiver, and she’s filling the room with moans and profanity.

  Valene is a screamer.

  I like making her scream.

  Raising my hand, I swipe down and spank her little white ass. She turns her head as much as she can and bares her teeth. I spank it again. She thrusts her hips backward.

  The tingle turns to full blown-about to nut mode. Which means I have to work harder to get her off first. Nothing in the world feels better than a woman’s orgasm.

  I pull back, angle myself upward, and then slide back in slowly. I thrust, half in, all the way out, over and over. She loses her mind. My toes curl, trying to hold out as long as I can. Just when I think I might lose my fucking mind, she lets out a high squeal, bends further at the waist, and damn near convulses.

  A quiet grunt echoes from my throat, then I come inside of her. My mind blanks, and for the next thirty seconds or so, nothing else matters.

  When she goes limp, I reach out and grab her around the waist. I lower us both to the floor. She lies back against my chest and lets out a light moan.

  “Wow,” she says after a few minutes. She wraps my
arms tighter around her. I grin, still out of breath.

  “Damn right,” I say.

  She twists around slightly to look at me. “You look different,” she breathes.

  I smile. “You look beautiful.”

  Almost as soon as the words leave my mouth, need nibbles at the back of my skull. She turns back around and giggles.

  “No need to work me, I already let you onto the love rug.”

  I chuckle. “Great rug.” The buzz of power in my veins is watered down a little once I’m able to feel her. Means she’s starting to need me.

  Means she’s starting to die.

  I turn her over in my arms and cup her face. “How do you feel?”

  She gazes at me, her eyes a little less her own than when she walked into the gym. She doesn’t answer right away. Then, her eyes pop open, and a lopsided grin slides into place.

  “I feel like I could eat a mountain of fried pickles.”

  I blink, then tilt my head. “Fried…pickles?”

  Her laugh is damn near lyrical when it comes out again. “Yeah, I always used to have some after a good fuck.” Her smile widens. “You’re the second person in the world that knows that about me.”

  Another wave of need slices into me. My hands squeeze the sides of her face, not rough, but urgent. Her expression tightens, probably in response to something in my eyes.

  “Try to remember what they tasted like,” I say before she can ask what’s wrong.

  She squints at me.

  I stick my lower lip out and say, “Please?”

  She laughs. Finally, she nods and closes her eyes. I wait a while, ignoring the rising sense of loss in her energy.

  When I’m sure enough time has passed, I ask, “Got it?”

  “Mm hm.” She runs her tongue over lips.

  “Good.” My grip on her tightens.

  I whistle.

  She sniffs the air, then her eyelids flutter.

  “That’s amazing,” she says. “I can actually taste it.”

  “Good,” I say again, letting my fingers slide to the sides of her neck. My eyes squeeze shut, and I swallow the lump of guilt I feel because I can’t afford to feel it.

  Not now.

  Maybe not for a while.

  Still, my hands tremble. Valene’s lips buzz with speech that I can’t hear. My heart punches in my chest, drowning everything out.

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I roll her back around, resting one arm across her neck and the other at the top of her head.

  I take in a sharp breath.

  Then I snap her neck to the side. A nasty crack echoes in my skull.

  Her body goes limp right away. I stare over her head. I’m as still as she is. My breath is caught in my throat. The room spins and blurs.

  I don’t know how long I sit holding her like that. I don’t know what’s going on inside me. All I do know is slowly, I start to feel okay. The wave of power washes over me.

  One of them dies.

  I get to live.

  Carefully, I lower her to the floor, then crawl a few paces away and grab the towel I was using. I whip it in the air, then drape it over her body. It doesn’t cover all of her, but it’ll do.

  I lift up to my feet easily. Then I drag myself across the room and duck out the door. Once there, I lean against the wall just outside the gym. The first stirrings of daylight stream in through a boxed shape window in the wall opposite me. Rows of lockers are draped in that artificial light. With a sigh, I lift myself from my body and into that place people call the mind’s eye. I search my own head for Juliet; I find her at a desk sorting through documents.

  I’m done, I tell her through our connection.

  I see her nod. I’ll have someone pick her up.

  Lowering myself back into my physical body, I start across the room and take the stairs up to the main house two at a time. Once I’m in my private room, I dig through the drawer of the desk and pull out my journal.

  In the next empty space I write: Valene Spencer.

  And that’s it, because that’s the way she came to me and the way she left.

  She will always just be Valene.

  10

  A few hours later at breakfast, Kiwi shoots so many die fucker glares that it’s hard to focus on what Tripp is telling me. We’re all at the small kitchen table crammed into a corner. Juliet thought it best we take our meals in our own personal kitchen from now on. I take her point.

  Tripp is directly across from me, telling me what he knows about Sadie.

  Putting a hand against my forehead, I shield myself from Kiwi’s hate gaze.

  “I’m sorry, say it again.” I dart my eyes at Kiwi, then rest them on him.

  Tripp bites down laughter, lifts a cup of orange drink to his mouth, and then sets it back down on the table. It clangs against the aging wood.

  “They’re going to be able to fix her arm.”

  The pressure in my chest starts to leak out slowly. I breathe easier. “Thank gods.” I bite into a hard biscuit. “When can I see her?” My mouth is still almost full when I ask the question.

  He shrugs. “She’s still asleep. Hasn’t been through the ritual yet.”

  “Ritual?” Crumbs spray across the table.

  “Ugh, wait till you’re finished eating,” Kiwi says, her tone flexed with annoyance.

  Lowering my hand, I glance over at her. Without a word, I salute her. She snorts, and I turn back to Tripp.

  “What do you mean, ritual?”

  He finishes the rest of his breakfast and grabs a nearby cloth napkin. He swipes it over his mouth, then drops the napkin on his plate. Then, he looks up and nods.

  “Yeah, the compound doesn’t have the tools to re-attach limbs. The only reason they’re able to do anything is because of Axley.”

  Axley. My eyes narrow.

  “She’s a healer,” I say slowly. “The compound is letting her use magic?” My lips press into a hard line. “What’s the catch?”

  “Don’t know yet.” He points at me. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t even look at anyone sideways.” His voice is hard, but it doesn’t take long for his expression to soften. “That little girl adores you.”

  Warmth seeps into my skin. I smirk to keep any emotion from showing up on my face. I’m about to add a sarcastic remark to go with it when Kiwi sucks on her teeth. Very loudly.

  Sighing, I turn toward her. I rest my chin on my fist and say, “So, Kiwi. How are you today?”

  Her eyes narrow. “I’m okay. Just a little tired, what with some little hoe bag squealing all night.”

  I start raking the hair under my chin with my fingers. “First, hoe bag had a name, and second, all night is a little dramatic… She couldn’t have been squealing for more than two hours.”

  “Do you think you’re cute?”

  I wink at her. “Do you?” Lowering my arms on the table, I lean closer to her. “Are you jealous of the hoe bag?”

  She sneers, then hits me with that look all females get when they’re about to say some foul shit.

  “And to think, that sweet little girl looks up to you.” She shakes her head while my nostrils flare. “You should be…”

  “Hey!” I slam my palm into the table. The boom rattles the dishes, knocking some over. “Watch it, Kiwi. You don’t know me like that.” My jaw tenses. “You don’t know her like that, either.”

  Her eyes, which had widened slightly, relax and she smiles. She almost looks pleased. “You’re right, I don’t know her all that well. But you… Well, I know what you are. It’s enough.”

  Tripp sighs loudly. “Okay, you two.”

  I stare at Kiwi for a few seconds, then stand, holding my hands up above my head.

  “Oh, you got me!” I fold my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes. “I know a lot of Spirits look down on, ‘what I am,’” I say with air quotes. “But now I have to take shit from a fury?”

  I dart my eyes around the kitchen, then roll them back to her. “Are your two sisters going to show
up next? Or are you to busy worrying about what’s been on my dick to keep up with them?”

  Her metallic glossed eyes turn to slits. We stare each other down. Something flickers on her face that makes me feel like a cock stain. A ten-year-old cock stain. I don’t show her that. From back behind the table, Tripp clears his throat.

  Wood squeals against the yellowing linoleum as he pushes his chair away from the table. I catch a flash of his movement from the corner of my eye. Then, he’s standing beside Kiwi, hand resting on her shoulder.

  “Fuck you,” she says, shrugging Tripp off.

  She rams a shoulder into me as she brushes past. I sigh, listening to her stomping though the walkway. I glance at Tripp to find his mouth puckered like he just ate something sour.

  “Don’t.” I close my eyes and rub my hands down my face.

  “Can’t do it.” He steps up to me and sticks his nose all over my personal space. “Don’t talk about her sisters… Ever again.”

  I study him for a few seconds before nodding. No idea why he cares about Kiwi’s drama with her sisters, or why they’re not with us on this get-the-cure mission, but I can also see it doesn’t matter.

  “My bad.” I back up and lean against the wall. “What’s the story?”

  “They’re dead,” he says without hesitation.

  My eyes widen. I don’t get it. A chilled memory of the few times she attacked me fuel confusion.

  “That shouldn’t be true… she wouldn’t have any power.”

  Tripp just nods. I stare at him, mentally fumbling for whatever he thinks should be obvious. When I trip over it, I close my eyes and bang my head back against the wall I’m against.

  “They were murdered.” It’s not a question. For some reason, I just need to say it out loud.

  “Yeah.”

  “And furies inherit their sister’s powers if they are murdered.” My eyes pop open, and I look back at him again. “Is that why she’s here? Because someone here knows who murdered them?”

  Tripp shrugs. “I don’t know for sure, but I’d shit a kitten if I found out she’s helping Compound Six for another reason.”

  A loud banging comes from the other side of the wall. I turn my head towards it. Seconds later, Kiwi calls out that she’ll get it. Glancing back at Tripp, I nod again.