by Claire Marta
Claimed by Magic
The Hunter Chronicles Book 3
Claire Marta
Contents
Also by Claire Marta
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Thank You
About the Author
Claimed By Magic: THE HUNTER CHRONICLES BOOK 3
Copyright © 2017 Claire Marta
Cover Design © 2017 by Ampersand Book Covers
Edited by Jen Burson
Proofread by Betty Shreffler
Formatting AB Formatting
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be used, distributed or reproduced in any manner, including photocopying, recording or other methods electronic or mechanical, whatsoever without prior permission from the Author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
The book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Also by Claire Marta
FROSTBITE: The Hunter Chronicles Book 1
Purchase on Amazon
Dark Desires: The Hunter Chronicles Book 2
Purchase on Amazon
Acknowledgments
To my readers who have enjoyed my first two book in the series. I know you’re eager to see what comes next. This story is something different. I love Twitch and it’s time for you to get to know him a little more.
Thank you Jen for believing in my series, also, for being my editor and my friend.
To my beta readers; Christine, Mary, Susan and Abrianna! Thank you for your input and your enthusiasm. You always make me smile! I’m so lucky and grateful to have you.
All the ladies in the Newbs, I could never have gotten this far without your advice, guidance, and friendship.
I love you all.
For Max, Franz and Ale.
To all the evenings we sat around a table with pens and paper, losing ourselves in adventures with words alone as they played out in our imaginations. For the many battles we fought, and the worlds we conquered.
The sea lay steeped in mist so thick, that Jasmine could not even see the horizon, let alone the expanse of water. Somewhere to her left, the waves crashed onto the stony beach. A rhythmic sound that was almost hypnotic.
Her butt was uncomfortably numb. Yet she didn’t bother to move. She sat hugging her knees close, on a large smooth rock, one of the many, which jutted out of the stony ground.
Jasmine’s friend Twitch stood half turned away from her. The long black velvety coat he wore was whipping around his tall, slender form in the wind. Pebbles crunched beneath his black boots as he shifted nervously. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his skin-tight, black trousers, and a heavy, black back pack was resting against his leg.
He looked pensive. Peridot green eyes never wavering from the shrouded sea as he absently brushed a tangle of cinnamon curls out of his face, almost dislodging the strange pair of goggles which were perched on the top of his head.
They were a new accessory. Jasmine was not sure why he was wearing them. Since their journey had begun late last night into Scotland, he had been more than secretive. The techno mage was always eccentric, but this was just plain bizarre.
Dragging her along, refusing to say where they were going, the mage had told her not to bring a thing. Now, here Jasmine sat. They were somewhere between Inverbervie and Stonehaven. That was at least what her car GPS had informed her when they had arrived in the chilly, early hours.
They had been waiting here since dawn on an empty stretch of beach. When the sun had finally risen, the morning had been clear until the eerie fog had silently rolled in. Thick as soup, it shrouded the entire area.
Jasmine shivered against the bite of the cold sea air. Her jeans, thick black jumper, and canary yellow rain jacket did little to keep it out. She was fucking freezing. The bracing smell of seaweed and salt filled her nostrils as she inhaled sharply. At least they were away from London for a while. Maybe the break would help.
She had been moping for the last two weeks. Depression had been like a heavy blanket settling over her, making her despondent toward the world. Each day had been a battle just to get out of bed. The weariness that gripped her was bone deep. Everything had become an effort. She felt listless. Empty. Most days were spent in her pajamas, eating ice-cream while curled up on her sofa, watching day time TV, or staring into space. A broken heart had turned her into a pathetic creature. Jasmine felt miserable. The few days she had left the flat, she had walked around in a daze.
Loving meant risking pain, but she had never expected it so swiftly. Eric didn’t deserve her love. Not after what he had done. Even if it had been in its first early stages, it still hurt like hell. At six foot, the vampire had the tall, perfectly toned, muscled body of a God. His black hair always ruffled sexily. That handsome face of his held a cold aloof handsomeness, which always made her heart beat just a little faster. His eyes though, were the thing that had always captured her attention. Cold as an arctic glacier, they had the power to reduce her to an aroused, trembling mess.
Prague had been the second time they had met. Her team had been hunting a serial killer. Eric and one of his comrades had already been staying at the nest they were investigating. Things had gotten a little crazy. Jasmine had found the serial killer and almost died in the process. Eric and another vampire, Asier, had managed to find her and almost lost their lives as well.
Jasmine had in fact been left with a permanent memento. Burn scars littered her left inner arm courtesy of the killer. Still in the process of healing, they were an everlasting ugly reminder of what had happened. A mark of her mistakes.
She was also jobless now thanks to Eric. The vampire, with his connections, made sure she had been fired after the fiasco. It still stung that he had called her weak. Giving her trust freely, he had shattered it. Every word he had spoken had been a bullet to her heart. He’d broken her.
No longer could she do the job she loved, unable to use her gift as a sensitive. The fucker had then expected her to be grateful. True, they lit sheets on fire with a blazing passion. But for Eric it had just been sex. He had wanted her to become his human pet, his whore to warm his bed for emotionless fucks whenever he felt the need. That was something that was never going to happen.
Flattening her lips, she pressed them into a thin, white line. Jasmine had been stupid enough to think he had actually cared. Too naive to realise he was just in lust. Nothing more.
She had also been dumb enough to fall for the bloodsucking jerk. Pain tightened her chest. The experience had left her crushed. Jasmine still didn’t understand how she could have fallen for him so fast. So hard. Love—asy to find, yet it was far more difficult to get rid of.
She felt frayed at the edges. With nothing to do, all she did was focus on the pain. Yet she still found herself sometimes longing for the bastard. Jasmine mi
ssed him. It was an ache deep inside that she couldn’t explain. The feeling was worse at night when she was alone in her bed. She yearned to feel the heat of his body against hers. Missed the deep rumble of his voice. The taste of his mouth, the smell of snow and pine, his own unique scent. It was almost unbearable.
Jasmine knew she had never really met the real Eric. He was the perfect operative, able to take the part of anyone he wished to be. Everything she felt made it that much harder. Had she even fallen in love with the real Eric, or an illusion? That thought drove her fucking crazy.
The only thing that had kept her going was her team. They were her friends. Her family. She knew Mark, her Boss, was fighting to have her reinstated. Gemma and Fergus had been around every day to check on her. Even Twitch had been talking to her online. Invading her flat with his magical grasp over technology and keeping her company. He wouldn’t let her wallow in self-pity.
The techno mage was the one who had talked her into this trip. Jasmine had been convinced to tag along. Personally she thought he just needed a driver.
With the tip of her trainer she scuffed some stones. Her love life was a fucking disaster and her prospects of getting her job back were slim. Could it get any worse? Life sucked. Nothing felt like it was going to ever be okay again.
“Enough with the fucking pity party Jazzy. I did not bring you with me so you could carry on moping.” Twitch purred moodily. He had turned to survey her. A gust of wind was tumbling his tousled locks behind him. The silvery, pink blemishes of old burn marks were clearly visible across his forehead and down his neck.
His magic had not always been kind. The scars were left from backfiring spells. They were a permanent reminder. Yet it did not detract from his youthful handsomeness and the set of his powerful jaw.
Jasmine pulled a face. “Why are we just waiting here? I’m fucking freezing.” She grumbled, wrapping her arms around her chest to keep warm.
Twitch glanced distractedly in the direction of the sea before bending down to pick up and haul the back pack over his shoulder. “Settle petal. It will be here soon, don’t worry.” His nimble fingers tightened on the straps. Black and sturdy, it was stuffed with electronic tablets and touch phones, as well as his beloved laptop. Twitch couldn’t use his magic unless he had a piece of technology close at hand. This was the reason he got anxious if there were none around. He was always carrying something.
“What will?” Jasmine asked, hugging herself tighter. She wasn’t in the mood for silly games. This all could still be some dumb joke. Twitch had the strangest sense of humour she had ever known. His genius ran to eccentric.
A faint mischievous smile curved his mouth. “You’ll see.”
Jasmine sighed testily. “I’m surprised Mark even gave you the time off at such short notice.” Detective Mark Cummings was hard but fair. He liked to get a hundred percent out of his team. Twitch was an important member. His magical technology and knowledge of the arcane were invaluable.
“He didn’t have a choice, and he agreed that you needed a change of scenery while he tries to sort out the mess you’re in and.” Twitch plonked himself down onto the rock beside her.
Jasmine knew Mark was trying his best, but she wasn’t so sure it would be enough. He had been there for her from day one, on the job, all those months ago. In fact, he had talked her into joining the team after discovering her abilities from a colleague. Mark was also the only person in their group who knew about her traumatic past. He believed her when she had told him her rapist’s eyes had glowed with an unholy light all those years before.
“With what Eric did, I doubt there’s a chance that will happen.” She huffed in defeat as she brushed some short, red hair out of her eyes. “I’m just a freak who can’t use her gifts the way she should. I wish I was just normal like everyone else.”
“You’re not a freak.” Twitch tilted his head to stare down at her. “You’re just special….like me and many others who aren’t just human. Who the fuck wants to be normal anyway? Does that even fucking exist? Not many can sense things as deeply and easily as you can. Fuck. Some supernaturals can’t even sense each other because they know how to shield what they are. You can sense magic too. Do you know how useful that is to our department?”
“Maybe...I don’t know.” Jasmine muttered back. She was so mixed up at the moment she didn’t really know what she wanted.
“You should have fallen for me Jazzy,” the mage continued. “Not that vampire. He had about as much warmth as the fucking iceberg that sunk the Titanic.” They’d had this conversation before and it was starting to get a little uncomfortable.
“I love you, but I don’t see you that way Twitchy. You’re my best friend.” Jasmine shivered against another lash of cold wind. Huddling in her coat didn’t seem to help. Twitch didn’t seem to feel it.
“I know, I know. I’m your pervy, bosom buddy. The one you can call at two in the morning when you need ice cream and someone to listen to you sob your heart out.” He bumped her with his shoulder, smiling into her eyes. “You know you’re lucky to have me. Not many guys would take you home and tuck you into bed when you get wasted, out of your skull, on cocktails.”
Jasmine’s lips twisted in a waning smile. “You stripped me down to my underwear and convinced me to dance for you first. Bastard.”
Twitch’s raspy laugh was carried away on a gust of sea air. “Hey, it was the only way I was ever going to see your crescent moon birthmark. I couldn’t give up a chance to take a peek and how many times am I ever going to get to see you in panties and a bra? Hmm? Besides I got you into your bed eventually.”
“You’re really nervous about today, aren’t you?” Jasmine asked, ignoring his perviness. She had long grown used to his odd ways.
Her question seemed to startle him. Wrinkling his nose, he suddenly looked wary. “Is it that fucking obvious?”
Jasmine nodded. “Yeah. It is.”
Twitch released a long, gusty sigh. “This is hard for me, but I’m glad you came long.” He admitted in a murmur. “It felt right to bring you.”
She frowned. He still hadn’t given her a clue what the fuck this was all about. “What’s hard?”
He didn’t answer her. Instead his gaze snapped back to the hidden horizon. Cocking his head to the side, he listened. Beyond the wall of white came a sound that was not the sea. It sounded like something solid hitting the water, rhythmic and yet smooth.
Jasmine’s eyes widened. Something was coming. The sound began to grow steadily louder. Anxiously, she began chewing on her thumb nail as she sat watching, enthralled. Twitch had gotten to his feet. His nervousness had increased. Jasmine could feel it vibrating around him. The hold he had on his bag tightened, making his knuckles whiten.
A dark silhouette appeared among the denseness of the fog. A shape that grew steadily larger with every passing silent moment. Narrowing her eyes, Jasmine tried to make out what it could be. It didn’t take long for it to get closer. It was a figure of a small craft.
The wooden row boat slid up onto the beach. One man sat aboard. Dressed in oil skins, he looked like a rural fisherman. His jacket was red with a few patches of retro-reflective strips. The trousers, which were a bright, eye catching yellow, climbed all the way up from his legs and were held up by shoulder straps. Thick, dark green, rubber wellington boots were on his feet. He had a long, grey beard. Bushy eyebrows were perched above twinkling sharp, grey eyes. The hair beneath the black, woolly cap he wore was silvery grey.
“Come on.” Twitch muttered. Turning, he pulled her up to her feet. Jasmine grunted as her legs protested. Blood flow began to throb back through her numb backside. As the sharp, biting tingle of pins and needles set in, she groaned in pain.
“I would offer to give it a massage, but we don’t have time.” The mage informed her huskily, as his eyes gleamed with devilish humor. A few strands of reddish hair fell across his face as he grinned.
Rubbing her hands up and down the paining globes, Jasmine scowled.<
br />
“Is that you, young Morgan?” The man in the boat abruptly shouted. With a wince, Twitch turned back towards the sea.
“Morgan?” Jasmine whispered. Abandoning her bottom, she shuffled closer to his side.
“Yes…that’s my real name, but I hate it, and if you tell another living soul, I will kill you, got it?” he grumbled back with irritation. “Yes, it’s me, Wyllt, and I’ve brought a friend,” Twitch called more loudly.
The Mage hurried across the stony beach. His quick strides dislodged random stones and set them skittering across the others. Jasmine was one step behind him. Strangely the mist seemed to part for them as they moved.
Twitch quickly halted beside the boat. The lap of the waves soaked his black army boots and then Jasmine’s trainers, as she stopped beside him. Wrinkling her nose, Jasmine gasped with the sensation. Biting cold, it drenched her shoes as it rushed through the material and dampened her socks.
“Jasmine this is Wyllt, the boatman, he’ll be taking us across.” The mage introduced.
Jasmine scrunched up her face in confusion. “Across where?”
Twitch made a humming sound in his throat. “You’ll see soon enough.”
She was starting to get annoyed at his cryptic answers. What the hell was going on? This didn’t seem to be some weird joke after all. So where the heck was he taking her?
The boat man nodded in her direction. “Nice to meet you Miss.” His steely gaze then returned to her companion. “Your Grandfather will be pleased to see you, boy. We haven’t seen you since you left.”
“Hmm, I’m sure he will.” Twitch did not sound so happy about it. With what sounded like a sigh of reluctance, he dumped his backpack into the bottom of the craft.
Carefully, the old man helped them into the boat, one by one. His large, calloused hand was firm and strong as Jasmine clambered aboard. She settled on the little, wooden bench seat next to Twitch. Suddenly, she was feeling both nervous and excited. Distractedly, she began to toy with the zipper of her yellow rain coat. Well, at least this was keeping her mind off Eric. This mystery the mage had pulled her into was growing. It sounded like he was taking her home with him. But to where exactly?