Bitten by Magic: Agents of SAINT: Book 1

by Vivienne Savage

  Yasmin glanced at her. “Huh? You’re going to bed?”

  “I have a quiz in the morning, and the gym kicked my ass today.”

  “You kicked your own ass,” Amaya said, laughing as she collected the plates from the coffee table and stacked empty glasses. “I think I’m done, too. Movie’s over, and I wanna read in bed for a little while before I pass out into this food coma.”

  So much for friendship. She recognized their devious plan for what it was—leave her alone with Javier.

  Credits scrolled over the screen and romantic music played during the movie’s final moments,

  Fortunately, he rose a moment later and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for letting me hang with girls. I had fun.”

  “It was the least we could do after you paid.”

  “It wasn’t a problem. Besides, I owed you. Anyway, I’m gonna head on out. Thanks again.”

  She jumped up. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “You don’t gotta do that, Yaz.”

  “Hey, my mama taught me manners.” And it gave her a few more minutes in his company.

  They moved through the house from the living room to the dimmed entrance hall. There wasn’t a noise in the house, her friends quiet upstairs. Too quiet.

  “So, uh… Night.”

  “Yeah. Night.” Then he didn’t move.

  Mentally, she tried to will him to budge from the stoop.

  They stood on the threshold of her door for an awkward ten seconds before Javier took matters into his own hands. Or maybe she met him halfway, because one moment she was admiring the breadth of his shoulders in his nice button-down shirt, and in the next, his mouth was slanting over hers.

  Yasmin made a tiny sound of surprise in her throat. Instead of jerking away, her traitorous body moved into him—plastered against him. Her nipples beaded into hard points.

  Then she laced her fingers through his hair. He’d cut it, and part of her mourned the lost inches. On the islands, it had almost reached his back. Now, it was shoulder length.

  Still perfect and silky and soft under her hands.

  Wait, wait. Kissing Javier was bad, because friends didn’t make out in deserted doorways.

  A Herculean force of will allowed Yasmin to pull her mouth away from his tempting lips, even though she was dying for another taste.

  Javier didn’t go after her again. He watched her, green eyes smoldering and muscled chest heaving beneath a fitted gray tee. His nostrils flared, and his gaze darted down to the juncture of her thighs. It wasn’t fair that she could be so wet from one kiss. And it was doubly unfair that the last thing either of them needed was to further complicate shit between them by becoming fuckbuddies.

  “This isn’t a good idea. Things were already...”

  “Already what?”

  “Confusing.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see.”

  We’ll see?

  “Anyway, night, Yasmin.”

  She stared at his back as he walked away and wondered what the hell had just happened.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Another dreary winter day awaited Yasmin beyond the bedroom window. Irritable with the dismal skies, she huddled beneath the electric blanket a while longer, thankful it was a Friday morning. Five semesters out of eight, she’d hit the jackpot during registration day and put together a dream schedule with a three-day weekend.

  During that time, she caught up on assignments, studied and even hit the studio for some of her voice-over work as needed, but since she’d already recorded all her lines for her dad’s latest project, she had every intention to lounge around the house and enjoy a few cups of hot cocoa. Alone. Both of her pals had plans that evening.

  Despite Gillian’s open-ended invitation for Javier to help himself to their home and chill out whenever he wanted, he’d only showed up once that week to buy their dinner. Of course, afterward, he’d promptly lost interest when Yasmin didn’t return his sexual attention.

  Ugh. No. That wasn’t fair of her. The guy was busy. Her dragon had a pile of schoolwork and didn’t deserve snark and judgment behind his back.

  Her dragon?

  Yasmin finally tossed off the covers, emerging from her blanket cocoon. After powering off the electric fleece, she ambled into the bathroom. The mirror cast a reflection of a flushed face with dark circles beneath her eyes.

  It hadn’t taken her long to determine she and Javier shared a wall, their bedrooms opposite each other. Sometimes, her shifter hearing made out the sound of his movements at night, or she picked up phantom whiffs of his scent.

  That was driving her crazy, and she’d lost too much sleep feverishly touching herself while imagining it was his hand between her thighs, dreaming of those nights weeks ago when it had been his fingers. He’d always known exactly how to touch her, their bodies and needs in perfect harmony.

  “I’m losing it. He isn’t my dragon. He couldn’t possibly be my dragon because neither of us has the time to commit to a relationship, I have a career to embrace this summer, and he probably hasn’t slept since January.”

  There. Once she said it out loud, her reasons for keeping Javier at sexual arm’s length sounded less stupid.

  No. They were definitely still dumb.

  Maybe she’d invite Javier over later once Amaya left for work and Gillian’s date picked her up. With his schedule, he could probably do with the stress relief.

  It didn’t take long to talk herself out of that idea, because as far as she was concerned, repairing her friendship with Javier was more important than falling in lust with him again. But if she wanted to mend their bond, one of them would have to take the first step.

  Once Yasmin brushed her teeth and applied her usual skin care regimen of face wash and moisturizer, she made herself into a blanket burrito on the living room sofa and picked a random romantic comedy from the Netflix queue. The moment she seemed to settle, Gillian popped in with several outfits on hangers in her hands.

  “Help me pick a dress for tonight?”

  Yasmin drowsily raised her head. “Sure. Where’s he taking you?”

  “Dinner and a movie in San Antonio. Maybe dancing afterward at the country bar.”

  “Then wear your comfy cowboy boots and the red sweaterdress with the flouncy skirt.”

  Gillian sorted out the dress in question. “You don’t think it’s too plain? It doesn’t even show off my tits.”

  “It’s comfortable and it’s cute,” Yasmin said, ticking off her points on her fingers. “It’s warm, you’ll totally stand out on the dance floor without looking desperate, and it makes your tits look great even without showing them off. Borrow my wide black belt to go with it.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “I know.”

  Amaya peered in from the kitchen. “I told her to wear the same dress, but does she listen to me? No.”

  Gillian flipped her the bird on her way to the stairs. Yasmin only laughed. “Guess she needed matching opinions. Whatcha doing in there anyway?”

  “Making a chicken salad sandwich,”Amaya called back.

  “For breakfast?”

  “It’s after ten, so think of it more like brunch. You want one?”

  Yasmin’s stomach grumbled. “Yeah, actually, I do.”

  She joined her friend in the kitchen and poured lemonade for them both, only to add another glass for Gillian. Amaya split the sandwiches onto three plates and added kettle-chips. They all joined up on the couch for reruns of Supernatural on Netflix.

  “Ugh, I don’t wanna go into work tonight,” Amaya groaned. “It’s gross and rainy out there.”

  “You make good tips on Friday nights, though.”

  Amaya moaned again and dropped her head onto Yasmin’s shoulder. “I know, but I still don’t wanna deal with people. Can’t I call-in sick and chill with you?”

  “Nope, I get the place to myself for a few hours, and I’m looking forward to hogging the television for videogames.” Yasmin
grinned and poked Amaya in the stomach. “You can go whip up drinks for the thirsty, horn-dog masses.”

  “Fine.”

  As they settled back again to watch their show, Yasmin’s stomach gurgled and twisted. She sipped on lemonade but a bitter taste crept up her throat and covered her tongue, souring her mood for the drink. By the time the current episode finished, a headache had bloomed behind her eyes.

  “You okay? You look kinda feverish.” Gillian frowned down at her and put her hand to Yasmin’s forehead.

  “I think that chicken salad was rancid or something. I feel awful.”

  Amaya snorted. “We had it, too, and it was delicious. I feel fine. You sure thought it was, the way you wolfed yours down.”

  “Ugh. I better not be coming down with the flu,” she complained. “The stuff my mom makes for that tastes awful.” Growing up with a witch for a mother had been a double-edged sword. While other kids feigned illness to get out of school, Yasmin choked down awful tonics her mother brewed in her cauldron.

  “But it works,” Gillian said. “I was back on my feet in a day. Hey look, it’s way too early in the semester to be coming down with some shit, so you better pop your little butt over there and ask your mom for her fix-it stuff before you get the rest of us sick.”

  “Why does it matter,” Yasmin teased, “if Mom can just make you better again with a sip of her potion?”

  “Because, like you said, it’s gross and tastes like wet newspaper. I swear it stays with you throughout the day.”

  Amaya nodded. “Last time I had one, it polluted everything I ate afterward.”

  Yasmin started to laugh, but a sharp upwelling of nausea sent her lurching from the couch toward the bathroom. In her haste to reach the toilet, she bashed her hip against the door frame, but she made it just in time before spewing. When she finished emptying her stomach, she looked up to find both friends in the doorway.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding.” Gillian stepped in first and grabbed a clean washcloth from the cabinet over the toilet. After wetting it, she passed it to Yasmin.

  “Sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t apologize. You’ve held my hair outta my face how many times?”

  Yasmin managed a weak chuckle. “A few.”

  “So, none of those apologies. It happens, and we’re here for you.”

  “Thanks. I just can’t believe I’m getting sick. Me.”

  Amaya leaned in and passed over a clean, dry washcloth. “Hey, even supernaturals get sick, right? It just passes over faster when it does happen. I mean, it’s not like you’re pregnant or anything. Maybe you picked up one of those back-to-school bugs. Everybody’s returning with a host of nasties from home.”

  Pregnant. The word made her go absolutely still and dropped a cold, hard nugget of dread in the pit of her stomach.

  Amaya’s smile faded. “I mean, you aren’t pregnant, right? You guys used protection.”

  Yasmin remained silent.

  Gillian put her hands on her hips. “Yaz, you’re always the responsible one shoving condoms in our purses. There’s no way you didn’t bone a dragon without a rubber.”

  “I…” She licked her lips and swallowed back the sour feeling in her throat. “I did, okay. Lots of times. I just figured there was no way anything could happen. He’s a dragon, and I’m a…”

  “A jaguar witch,” Amaya said. “I mean… the class I took claims that dragons can’t have babies with anyone but humans and other dragons, so you should be safe.”

  Relief flooded over Yasmin as her friends talked sense and put everything into logical perspective. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get so worried.

  “Yeah. Safe. You’re right. Dragons and other shifters don’t mix. It’s why dragons like Thor, who keep harems, don’t have dozens of babies all around the place.”

  Gillian leaned forward. “Does he really keep a harem? Curious minds wanna know.”

  “He doesn’t keep an actual harem like some fairy tale sultan, but he does have a lot of shifter lovers all over the world, so he may as well start one. His picture should be next to the entry for ‘manwhore’ in the dictionary.”

  Their laughter shattered the rising tension in the room, but deep inside, Yasmin couldn’t help but wonder if it was possible. Gillian and Amaya both helped her to her feet then left her to clean up. After the door shut, Yasmin stood in front of the mirror a few minutes.

  “No. Absolutely not possible,” she told herself aloud in a soft voice. “It’s the flu. You’re gonna choke down Mom’s brew and be back to normal by tonight.” Even without it, she’d probably crawl out of bed the next morning refreshed and energized again.

  Comforted by her pep talk, Yasmin yanked open the bathroom door. Gillian presented her with a pink box.

  “Here.”

  “What the hell do you have pregnancy tests on hand for?”

  “Because I’ve had a scare before and one easy piss test put my mind at ease. Considering you were just in there talking to yourself, I think you might like that same assurance.”

  “C’mon. This is ridiculous.”

  Amaya took Yasmin by the shoulders and turned her back to the bathroom. “Go on, we’ll be right here, and afterward, we can all share a drink and have a good laugh.”

  “Fine, but it better be a damned big drink.”

  She grumbled the whole time she unpackaged the pregnancy test. The girls meant well, but science had proven dragons couldn’t impregnate other shifters. She couldn’t be pregnant.

  But what if you are? the little voice in her head whispered.

  The wait for results gave her too much time to think. Having a child wasn’t exactly a part of her life plan. Not this early. She had school to finish and a dream career to undertake following graduation.

  But you can do voice work from home, the little voice said. A child won’t derail that.

  Not that it mattered, because there was no way she could be pregnant. Judging that enough time had passed, she grabbed the test stick, ready to tell her friends to get the drinks going.

  “We’re gonna laugh about this,” she muttered before looking down. Then it seemed like the floor dropped out from beneath her.

  A little positive sign appeared in the window.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A combination of textbooks and empty soda cans cluttered the living room table, flanking the laptop where Javier wrote yet another essay for Freshman Composition.

  He knew English better than most Americans spoke the language, and was proficient in Spanish as well as Brazilian Portuguese. But the guidance counselor had been adamant about the degree requirements.

  “I know how to write a damned paper. Why do I even need this to become a cop?” Javier mumbled to the empty living room. He’d gotten a head start on the reading material and a couple of the writing assignments, but the heavy volume of classes and the sheer weight of the coursework had made it difficult to have a social life. Difficult to even see Yasmin in more than passing or the occasional lunch break.

  But he hadn’t come for a social life, had he? No, he wanted to cram as much of an education into his brain as he could to make up for the time wasted as a jobless beach bum. Those moments of time with Yasmin made it all worth it, the occasional smile from her more valuable than all the gold accumulated in his hoard.

  Just as he put the finishing touches on the essay, his phone rang with an incoming call from an unfamiliar number. He considered letting it go to voicemail, until a little tickle of intuition told him it could be important.

  “Javier Arcillanegro speaking.”

  “Hello, Javier. This is Ian MacArthur. You may not remember me, but we met a few years ago at the Drakenstone residence during a cookout.”

  Javier jerked upright. A few years back, when slayers failed to assassinate the first dragon to take the U.S. presidency, Ian had put his guys in on the investigation. Everyone knew he coordinated groups of highly trained special operatives for the U.S. government. Shifter special op
eratives.

  And now he was calling Javier on the phone?

  “Um, hello, sir. I do remember you.”

  “Good. I’m not calling at a bad time, am I?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Fantastic. I won’t waste your time by beating around the bush. A friend of mine from the Huntsville Police Department said you provided some valuable information in the Rhinehart case.”

  “You haven’t found her yet, have you?”

  Ian sighed. “No. But now that they have reason to believe supernaturals are involved, I’ve been brought in on the case. I read up on what happened on Isla de los Sueños. Not only did it take real guts to lead the search for that kidnapped kid, but you showed the kind of initiative we can’t train into agents.”

  “Oh, well, um, I just did what needed to be done. I mean, there was a kid’s life at stake.”

  “And you handled it well. I’ve read the reports and talked to the security officers involved. They said you kept a cool head.”

  “I—thank you, sir.”

  Ian chuckled. “You can drop the ‘sir’ and call me Ian. Anyway, I’m calling because I know you’re pursuing a degree in Criminal Justice, and I’d like to offer you a job.”

  He lowered the phone and stared at it, wondering if he’d hallucinated a whole conversation. When it glowed up at him with the same Unknown Caller display, he brought it back to his ear again. “I appreciate the offer, s—Ian, but if my father put you up to this, I’ll have to humbly decline. I enrolled in school to earn a career on my own without his help.”

  “No, I have absolute respect for your father, but this offer has nothing to do with him. You’ve earned this on your own merit. We need paranormal agents with leadership abilities like yours, and it helps that you’re a dragon. That makes you tougher than the average shifter and able to take a beating.”

  Stunned, it took Javier a moment to find his voice and speak. “I have a full course load this semester, and it won’t be any better in the fall.”

  “I know, and we’ll work around your schedule. That’s no problem. In fact, we plan to open a branch in Atropos, so you won’t even have to travel out of town.”