Ordinary Charm

by Anya Bast

  He didn’t say anything for a full heartbeat. He only stared into her eyes. Like a deer caught in headlights, she stared back. “I hope you’re right,” he finally answered. He broke the gaze and glanced at the plate. “Do you have anything else to eat?”

  “Uh…I have some Doritos.”

  “They’ll beat tofu chicken any time.”

  She stood, grateful for the diversion after that intense conversation, and got the bag of chips. She didn’t think twice as she fed him with her fingers, no less. Suddenly her mind was awhirl with other thoughts and intuitions. Why were the Elders doing this to her? They must have a reason.

  She felt a hot tongue caress her finger and she jerked her hand away as though he’d burned her. “Hey! You licked me!”

  He smiled slowly, like a predator. “Mmmm…I was imagining licking somewhere other than your finger.”

  She stared in shock. Damn if he didn’t sound like he meant it. Considering him, she nervously reached into the bag, drew out a chip and ate before she even realized what she’d done. This was a complex man. She reached into the bag again. “Look, I don’t get intimate with half-crazed mages who describe their magick as vicious and have amnesia. It’s kind of a thing with me,” she said between crunches.

  He shrugged. “I’m very attracted to you. I sense you are also attracted to me. We could indulge that mutual attraction if you wanted. No strings attached. Just you and me, sharing a bit of lust. It’s been a long time, Serena.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You can even keep me tied up, if you’re into that.”

  She stilled with her hand midway to her mouth at the sound of her name on his lips. How could this god of a man be attracted to her? Then she remembered the shackles. He was just trying to play her again, the bastard. “I thought your memory only began a few days ago.”

  “Okay, it feels like it’s been a very, very long time.”

  “Well, it’s going to be a while longer because I won’t fall for your little act of flatter the fat girl.” She plopped the bag down on the couch and stood. “Look, memory boy, it’s late and I want to go to sleep. I’m going to get you a blanket, a pillow, and tie you in a sleeping position on the couch, and then I’m going to bed. We’ll figure what to do with you in the morning.”

  * * * * *

  “You better hope your nine lives haven’t all been used up, cat,” Cole muttered at the twenty-pound black feline that had taken up residence on his upper chest. He’d swallowed about an ounce of fur since the creature had decided his chest was a great place to sleep. Five times he’d rocked his body hard enough to dislodge the cat and make it get off him. Five times the damn thing had jumped back up. Cole knew he’d been defeated and had given up. Plus, he couldn’t take the fat cat jumping back up onto this chest even one more time.

  Cole lay in the dark of the night staring up at the living room ceiling, enduring the warm animal that had a purr like an outboard motor on his chest. The ceiling was painted with small glow-in-the-dark stars. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost convince himself he was in the forest.

  He’d feel so much better if he were in the forest.

  These walls made him feel itchy, suffocated, trapped. They were even worse than the bastard cuffs binding his hands and the ropes Serena used to tie his ankles to the legs of the couch. That was one more thing he knew. He’d take forest over manmade structure anytime.

  Maybe he really was Cernunnos.

  He moved his legs and the rope around his ankles chafed his skin. He grimaced. God, he’d love to get his hands on Serena. He really, really would.

  In more ways than one.

  She was intensely alluring to him. In fact, she had no idea the kind of power she wielded over him. For that matter, she seemed to have no idea how gorgeous she was. He’d instantly been entranced by her beautiful heart-shaped face. Her complexion was lovely—a fair peaches-in-cream with that charming blush to her cheeks. Her blue eyes sparkled with wit and intelligence. Her hair was that exquisite corn silk texture and blacker than the heart of midnight.

  Her body was full and curvaceous and the thought of undressing her and exploring it made his cock get hard. Her breasts were large and heavy. How would they feel in his hands? How would her nipples taste against his tongue? How would she feel when he slipped his cock into her? What kind of little noises would she make when he brought her climax?

  Oh, he really wanted to know the answers to those questions. If he had anything to say about it, he’d get them.

  She was incredibly attractive, that was true enough, but it was her essential energy that drew him to her so hard. There was something about her, something related to him. He let a breath whistle past his lips. It was another of those things he knew, but didn’t understand.

  He knew Serena was his. Whatever the hell that meant.

  He didn’t think him ending up in her house tonight was by chance. That spark of deep familiarity and that sense of possession had been there as soon as he’d caught her sweet scent on the air as he’d approached the porch stairs. Now all he had to do was convince Serena she was his. He had a burning desire to do just that.

  What he didn’t want to do was endanger her. And there was no doubt in his mind, he was endangering her by being in her home right now. He needed to find out what the hell was going on with him. Three days ago he’d awoken at the edge of a forest, naked, and filled with a sense of rage that made the magick within him spark fire into the nearby trees. It had been a supreme act of strength for him to hold back from charring all the living things around him for a three-mile radius.

  Someone or something had done him wrong, had turned his life upside down…and he’d been really pissed about it. He’d leashed his rage when Morgan and her girlfriend, Sarah, had found him, sensing they were OtherKin and meant to help. When they’d asked him where he’d wanted to go, one name had been forefront in his mind. Alana Parker.

  He’d started with her, and he’d have to go back to her. She was his only lead. Next time he met her he wouldn’t instantly attack her, though. That had definitely not gotten him the information he’d gone there to collect. All that had gotten him was a dose of strong magick in the solar plexus from Morgan and Sarah and pretty new pair of cold iron bracelets. Cold iron was the one substance that could sublimate the magick of an OtherKin.

  He hadn’t told Serena everything he knew. Or, at least, not everything he remembered. He recalled snippets of his past lives. He remembered being a sea captain, in command of everything and everyone on his ship. He remembered being a knight during the Crusades. He remembered being a Viking. A Gladiator. A Celt warrior painted with woad for battle.

  Snippets of these lives played through his head like a movie from time to time. He’d smell something that would put him back on the prow of his ship, or walking through a meadow clutching a spear, alert and watching for his enemies. At times, his head swam with the tactile impressions from what he could only assume were his past life incarnations.

  He needed to find out what was going on…and soon.

  A faint magickal tremor went through his body. Every hair on his body stood up in response. He turned his head in the direction it was coming from. Across the room, the drapes moved. The window opened just a crack, and a thin, wispy white tendril slipped within.

  What the fuck?

  Serena was no lightweight witch. She’d constructed an intricate golden warding net around her home, a magickal barrier to keep unwanted people and magicks out. A kind of energetic security system. He’d felt it when he’d walked up the porch beside Morgan. It’d felt like walking through thick cobwebs. The only reason he’d been able to get through at all was because Morgan had access and had been at his side and touching his arm. So how could this magick be currently snaking its way across the room toward him?

  The more pressing question was what did it want?

  As the tendril drew near, he struggled against the tight knots that Serena had tied around his ankles. The cat recognized the curl of powe
r approaching them, yowled low and shot off his chest to run and hide. Cole’s jaw clenched and he struggled against his bonds to no avail. Serena tied great knots, apparently.

  He really wanted to get his hands on her…

  The wisp of magick reached him and twined around his ankles and wrists. And suddenly…he was free. The magick disappeared. The window closed with a little thud.

  “What the bastard hell?” he asked the ceiling.

  Maybe he had a friend out there somewhere? Maybe…but there was no time to examine the possibility. He pushed the blanket away and sprung up from the couch. This was his chance to figure out what was happening to him.

  He drew a deep breath and flexed his magkical muscles. It was nice to have full use of his powers back.

  After a moment of reveling in his newfound freedom, he slipped into the hallway and searched for her bedroom. He had excellent night vision—like a cat or some wild nocturnal animal. He had an excellent sense of smell, as well. Cole peeked into the bathroom and saw the counter was strewn with all kinds of different types of lip gloss, in many different shapes, sizes and flavors.

  Finally, he found her sleeping in a king-size four-poster bed in the bedroom at the end of the corridor. It was decorated just as comfortably as the rest of the house. A chair piled with clothes dominated a corner, next to a large rosewood dresser that was also strewn with lip balm containers of all shapes. What was the deal with that? She had a large collection of ceramic fairies displayed on shelves along one wall. He smiled. Definitely not the bedroom of a seductress.

  Gentle breathing drew him to her bedside. Her black hair was spread across her pillow and the moonlight streamed in through the nearby window, limning her face in silver. The pale light illuminated the thin strap of her nightgown and the curve of one peaches-in-cream shoulder. He lifted a brow in speculation.

  Cole reached out and passed his hand over her face. At the same time, he used a light magick to deepen her sleep and give her sweet dreams. She sighed and parted her lips.

  Unable to resist the lure of that lush mouth, he dipped his head and kissed her. “I wasn’t lying when I said I thought you were beautiful, Serena,” he murmured just above her rosy lips. “We’ll meet again, and when we do, I’ll make you mine.”

  He picked up a tendril of her hair between his fingers and rubbed its silkiness. What was it about this woman that made him want her so much? He wanted to keep her. The soldier, sea captain, Viking, gladiator and knight in him all pounded their chests and declared this woman mine.

  And so he would make her.

  Letting her hair slip between his fingers, he passed his hand down her body, holding it palm down about an inch above her. He wanted to peel back those blankets and touch her skin-to-skin, but this would have to do for now. His phantom touch slid down her luscious body and cupped her breasts. In her sleep, Serena tossed her head and moaned softly.

  His cock hardened and he gritted his teeth. This was pure torture. He wanted to be the one touching her, not his magick, but it didn’t seem right to do that without her consent. This way, she could push his magick away if it was unwanted. Even in her sleep, she could do that with her subconscious. As it was, he felt no resistance, which pleased him. It meant that on some level she wanted him, too. Even if she didn’t realize it.

  Cole slipped his hand down over her stomach and hips, straight to the honey pot. Serena squirmed on the mattress and moaned again.

  When he finally took her for real, skin-to-skin and sex-to-sex, he’d strip every bit of material from her sweet body and drag his tongue over every square inch of her. He’d spread her out on her back, cover her body with his and declare Serena his for the taking. First, he’d kiss her lips soft and gently. Treat her like the precious woman she was. Then he’d take her mouth with his and show her just how much she haunted him, tormented him. He’d nip and suck and bite at her mouth and her breasts with such passion that she would writhe beneath him—beg him to enter her. He’d spread her legs then and taste her sex. Tease her clit against his tongue and sip from the very heart of her. He’d lick her slowly from anus to clit until…

  “Come for me, beautiful,” he murmured.

  She whimpered and then softly cried out as his magick possessed her. He’d tipped her straight into climax. She tossed her head and gripped the blankets as the gentle orgasm racked her. After the tremors had eased, she rolled onto her side with a slight smile on her face.

  He wanted to slide into the bed beside her, hold her close and bury his nose in her hair to smell the scent of her shampoo and run his hands over her silky smooth skin. He wanted to hold her all night long, protect her from anything that wanted to hurt her. Cole wanted tell her she was beautiful, and show her with his body just how gorgeous he thought she was…over and over until the morning light broke through the window.

  He wanted to spend all day tomorrow talking with her, extracting every bit of trivia she had to tell him about herself, her life. He wanted to immerse himself in everything she was.

  But he couldn’t do that, nor would she welcome it if he could.

  So, instead, with one last long look at her, his cock harder than the iron in the cuffs that had bound him, he backed into the shadows.

  Chapter Three

  Serena awoke to the morning light streaming in through her window and the happy sound of birds in the trees outside. She stretched and flipped the blankets back. Boy, she was in a good mood this morning. She wondered why, and then remembered.

  Oh, yeah. The dream.

  She sat on the edge of the bed as it came rushing back at her. She’d dreamt that Cole had come into her room the previous night and had told her he hadn’t lied when he’d said he thought she was beautiful. He’d also told her they’d meet again and when they did, she’d be his.

  Whatever that meant.

  Then she’d dreamt he slipped into her bed and had proceeded to… Her cheeks blazed with the memory. She really did need to get laid…and soon. Her subconscious had driven that point home by taking the first available man at hand and using him to let her know.

  Shaking her head, she stood, found her bathrobe and donned it. Then she walked out into the living room to check on her prisoner.

  And stopped cold in her tracks.

  The blanket she’d placed over Cole was rumpled on the floor by the side of the couch. The ropes and the cuffs lay on the seat. Cole himself was nowhere to be seen.

  She grabbed a heavy candleholder on the mantel and brandished it. “Cole?” she called warily to the empty room. How silly, she thought. He was long gone by now.

  She sat down in a nearby chair, letting the candleholder hit the floor with a thunk, and stared at the cuffs. How the hell had he gotten them off? Not that it mattered. Obviously, he’d managed it. And, luckily, he hadn’t killed her while she’d been sleeping.

  No, he hadn’t killed her…but had he given her a little death?

  She shook her head. No way. That had only been a dream. Cole had found a way to free himself and had disappeared immediately, taking all his silly lies and platitudes with him. She should be happy to be rid of him.

  So why did she feel sad?

  She stood and went into the kitchen to brew some coffee. Maybe she was far lonelier than she’d realized. Spartacus, one of her cats, wound his way around her ankles and meowed up at her. She set a saucer of milk down for him. All the other cats in the house came running at the familiar noises of cabinet door and refrigerator opening, milk pouring, and saucer set on linoleum. Soon the entire kitchen was awash in the pleasant sound of purr.

  Serena leaned back against the counter and sipped her coffee. She loved her cats, but she didn’t want to be one of those old spinster witches who only had felines for company, either.

  Looked like that was the direction her life was taking, however.

  Even though she should be happy to be so fortunate, she wanted things in her life that she would never have. Here she was, lucky enough to own property and beautiful home
, all free and clear. She had her writing career that was bringing in a pretty penny with the publication of her books on witchcraft. She’d just turned in her fifth book to her editor at SacredWish Publishing and was mulling over possibilities for her sixth.

  Still…she wished for…more.

  She shook her head, not allowing herself to finish the thought. That was selfish. She needed to be happy with and thankful for what she had.

  Later, she would visit the Elders and have a little chat. For now, she’d allow herself to wallow in just the slightest bit of self-pity.

  * * * * *

  “Slipped your leash, did you? Should’ve known Serena wouldn’t be able to keep you,” spat Alana.

  The tone Alana used when she said Serena’s name made Cole dislike the blonde witch in front of him even more, if that was possible. He had a violent, gut-level reaction to the woman every time he was in her presence. Cole watched Alana eye him warily as she rounded her dining room table, keeping the heavy piece of furniture firmly between them. Her hand, Cole noted, was loosely fisted. Likely she had a spell at the ready if he went unexpectedly psycho like he had before.

  He felt the rage he’d felt the last time he was in her presence. That was true enough. His magic boiled and bubbled in his mind. He tamped it down, kept it under control with a superior act of willpower. It was torture. Releasing that energy would be better than sex, and a dark part of him would revel in the chaos it would cause. A part of him really wanted that darkness realized…and it was a strong part. The other part of him wanted to ensure he harmed no one. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes for a moment, tamping the urge down.

  He didn’t want to harm anyone. Not even Alana, for whom he felt a large amount of animosity for some unknown reason.

  He opened his eyes and smiled slowly, in a deliberately non-threatening way. “C’mere, darlin’, I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to ask you a few questions.”