Destiny's Magick

by Rae Morgan

  “So what did you do to Headley?” Keir asked.

  The return trip to the Morgan, Ltd. building where the corporate offices and family penthouses were located was much more sedate than the earlier drive.

  Drake glanced down at Rhea nestled snugly against his side, fast asleep courtesy of one of Keir's infamous relaxation spells. It hadn't taken much. She'd been exhausted. Not just from her ordeal, but also, he knew, from her restless nights courtesy of him and the out-of-body sex they'd shared.

  So that she could rest completely, he shielded his current thoughts from her. While she was asleep she was especially vulnerable to catching his stray thoughts on the astral plane. Once they consummated their relationship and she had some training about how to shield herself, it would be much easier for her.

  “You're ignoring me.”

  “No, I'm just making sure I'm not leaking any thoughts to her.” Drake smiled at his cousin. “While you may be a typical thick-headed male witch, Rhea's too perceptive as far as I'm concerned.”

  “You'd better conjoin and teach her some good self-protection spells fast. We cut it awfully close on this one,” said Keir. “Once she's trained to use her powers. Well, you know what they say, the female of the species is deadlier than the male. I know that my Betsy is a much meaner witch than I am. I'm constantly reminding her that she can't just vaporize everyone who ticks her off.”

  “Your Betsy is just out of control,” Drake said sternly. “Her last little episode almost outed the coven.”

  “She's learned her lesson.” Keir smirked. “She couldn't sit down for a week.”

  “That's because you had her flat on her back, you satyr.”

  Keir smiled in memory. “Whatever works. Enough talk of my sex life. Answer my question: What did you do to the bastard?”

  “Well, let's just say all the Viagra in the world will never let old Seb get it up again. And his face doesn't look so hot, either.”

  “Ooh, mean, cuz. Really nasty. Remind me never to get on your bad side.” Keir laughed. “Before we get inside and face the troops, what's the story? The family wasn't expecting you to make your move on Rhea so fast.”

  “Well, the courtship has just been stepped up,” growled Drake. “She'll have to get to know me faster. The sooner we consummate our relationship in the physical plane, the sooner her powers will be synchronized with mine. I want her under my complete protection, then I'll worry about her recognizing and developing her own abilities.”

  “Okay. I just hope she'll be willing to fall in with that plan,” Keir said. “She's a typical lawyer. She asked questions all the way down to the fifth floor which is where I finally helped her relax enough to go to sleep.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “Nothing, other than my name. I figured I'd let you dig your own grave.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “I'm curious about one thing: How did Headley find out Rhea was the informant concerning his treachery?” Keir asked. “Galway wouldn't tell. He was all over himself, promising to do anything, to keep Morgan, Ltd.'s business.”

  “I'm fairly sure Galen leaked the information to Headley.”

  A moan from Rhea caused him to gather her closer. Some of his anger must have seeped through his blocks. He strengthened his mental wall then felt her relax.

  “As you brought the car around earlier, he was in the crowd,” Drake continued. “I sensed his duplicity. After I get Rhea settled in, I intend to find out what the sniveling, traitorous weasel knows. There've been too many leaks, mistakes and accidents surrounding Morgan Ltd.'s activities lately. As the elders and I suspected, Headley's treachery was just the tip of the iceberg.”

  * * * *

  “I'm telling you-Drake knows I was Headley's inside man at Morgan, Ltd..”

  Galen's whining tone grated on Warrick Bettencourt's nerves. Again, he regretted having to rely on weaklings to help bring Drake Morgan down. But then again, weaklings were so easy to turn to the dark side of magick.

  They were also expendable.

  “Calm down,” Warrick said. “I'm sure you're just imagining things. While Morgan might be able to sense things, he can't read minds. He can't know anything unless you do something stupid and spill the beans.”

  “I'm not so sure about that.” Galen's mutterings came clearly across the phone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There's been talk within the family that he can link to Headley's associate, Rhea.”

  Warrick groaned. The damn legends were true, then. Not good. If Drake had found the Coven of the Wolf leader's perfect complement and managed to conjoin their powers before Warrick made his take-over move, he would be fated to fail. A coven leader mated to his complement was, theoretically, unbeatable.

  He had to prevent that match at all costs. He'd spent too much time planning Drake Morgan's downfall to let a woman take it all away from him.

  “You know the legends as well as anyone Galen. That just means he can communicate with her as his destined mate. He can't read your mind, you idiot.”

  “The look he gave me an hour ago when he carried Rhea into the building sure as hell said he could read my mind. I swear he sent ice then fire through my body as he passed me in the lobby.”

  “What do you mean he carried Rhea into the building?” asked Warrick. “Why was he carrying Rhea into the building?”

  And why did he have to hear this from Galen? Where in the hell were Yorrick and Headley?

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you. It's the reason I called. Drake rushed out of the department heads’ meeting early this morning. The rumor in the building was that he and your brother Keir raced over to Headley's offices to save Rhea.” Galen paused and took a deep breath. “Well, it wasn't a rumor. They returned and brought the woman back with them. Several of the witches whispered that they recognized one of Keir's relaxation spells on her. Keir uses them to get women into bed with him, well, at least he did before he married-”

  “Shut up, you imbecile!” Warrick rubbed the pulsing vein in his forehead. Yeah, he knew all about Keir's spells. He'd taught that particular one to his little brother. Just hearing his brother's name associated with Drake added to his anger and stress. Struggling against the rage in his veins, he asked, “This Rhea was attacked by Headley?”

  Hopefully, Yorrick was handling that little problem. Maybe that's why he was late.

  “I guess so.”

  “The stupid fool. That's what I get for using humans to do a witch's work. Shit. Now, Drake will move to conjoin as soon as possible.”

  “Well, no, I don't think so.” Galen hesitated, then continued, “That's why I reported in early. He's called me to a meeting in fifteen minutes. I want to know what your instructions are. So see, he can't conjoin while he's meeting with me. Right?”

  “Very logical.” Warrick relaxed. Even Morgan couldn't gain the consent of a complete stranger, even if she was a witch and his complement, to physical sex in so short a time. The conjuncture had to be mutually agreed upon; the legend said so. He had time to get to the woman.

  “Warrick? Are you still there? What do you want me to do?”

  “Go to the meeting. Tell him nothing. He can't read your mind. Deny everything. He can't prove anything. Keep him busy as long as you can.”

  “Okay. When do you want me to report back?”

  “Tomorrow at the regular time. Keep an eye on the woman. I want to know where she is within the building at all times.”

  “Gotcha.”

  After Galen disconnected, Warrick pondered his next move. He would need to activate his back-up inside-man at Morgan, Ltd.. If Galen was still at Morgan Ltd.'s home offices tomorrow, he would be very much surprised. Morgan wouldn't kill him, which was one of the reasons why Warrick would be a better leader for the coven. The coven and Morgan, Ltd. needed a strong master; Morgan was such a weakling with his do no harm credo. Galen, the sniveling little traitor, would probably end up banished to the back of beyond as a lowly farm anim
al.

  Warrick picked up the phone and dialed. He had orders for his new traitor.

  * * * *

  With a whisper of air, Drake removed Rhea's constricting business suit. Now clad only in a transparent peach silk bra and thong, she lay on his bed, a lustrous pearl among ivory silk sheets. A slight shiver shook her body. Regretfully, he pulled the silken duvet over her near nudity. He would have more than enough time later to gaze upon her loveliness.

  Finally, you're in my bed, my own.

  She sighed and stretched. A slight smile crossed her face. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her slightly parted ones, then traced them with his tongue. She moaned, and he felt an answering call from his loins.

  He groaned. No, he couldn't start something now. He had to grill Galen and find out if it was Warrick Bettencourt who was calling the shots. Before today, only Drake's business and the coven's cover had been threatened by the traitors in their midst, but now the stakes had escalated-his woman was in danger.

  As he moved to leave his suite, a jolt of dark energy brushed past his neck. Evil was near. An energy-sucking projector was in the room. And it sought Rhea.

  “Keir! Betsy!” He yelled as he turned and hurried to the bed to scoop up Rhea. He had to put protective wards in between her and the foul spirit. If the rapacious bottom-feeder found her unprotected ethereal spirit while she slept, it could attach itself and drain her life energy, making her ill-or even killing her.

  Keir and his wife ran into the room.

  “What's wrong?” Keir asked.

  “Evil,” Betsy said as she sniffed the air like a bloodhound. “You males don't sense it as easily as we females. I'm amazed you caught it, Drake.”

  Betsy set about the room, pulling out sage candles and lighting them. “Keir, don't just stand there. Go get the diffuser and some sage oil.” Turning to Drake, she continued, “Go on. Cross water. Now. We'll yell when the room is protected.”

  “Thanks, Betsy.” Drake ran into the master bath. Holding Rhea against his side, he turned on the multiple heads in his large walk-in shower and aimed them at the floor. The cross-spray of water would create small streams and eddies. After Drake and Rhea crossed the water paths, the evil could not follow.

  Even with all the excitement, Keir's relaxation spell held. Rhea still slept.

  The steamy water, while not aimed at them, covered both of them with a fine mist. Despite the danger that lurked outside the shower, his loins throbbed at the sight of her pebbled nipples, displayed clearly through the water-moistened silk. Unable to deny himself the treasures lying within reach, he removed her bra with a mere thought, then bent and took his first physical taste of his love's nipples, the same nipples that his ethereal self had lavished attention upon many, many times in the last couple weeks.

  He took first one, then the other, into his mouth. He learned and savored her taste. She was rich vanilla cream. He would never be able to eat vanilla ice cream again without his loins hardening in response.

  Rhea moaned as she instinctively arched her back to get closer to the source of her pleasure.

  Trembling with his own increasing need, Drake carried Rhea to the tiled bench built into the shower room. Seated, he could hold her easily with one arm, leaving the other free to explore her generous curves.

  Her thong panty disappeared under his concerted efforts to discover all her treasures. His fingers searched through the burnished red curls covering her sex to find the small pearl of her pleasure. As he gently massaged her clitoris, he nuzzled her neck, licking her pulse points with his tongue. She throbbed under his finger and his lips. Small moans escaped her lips.

  He ached, then groaned at the rhythmic movements of her hips against his penis, as she strained to reach her pleasure.

  “Drake!” Betsy's voice called out. “The room is safe. You can come out now.”

  Drake cursed under his breath. This wasn't the time for the physical joining he desired.

  Yet, he couldn't leave Rhea-or himself-unsatisfied. He wanted her to know she could always trust him with her passion. Projecting onto the astral plane, his ethereal body joined with hers and within seconds their physical bodies contracted in orgiastic bliss.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “What do you mean you failed to reach the bitch?” Warrick asked.

  “Drake must have sensed me, because one minute I'm zeroing in on Rhea's astral body and the next-bam-moving water and sage threw me off the scent,” said Warrick's back-up to Galen.

  “What about Galen?” His office door opened. Yorrick peeked around the corner. Warrick waved his aide into the room. “What did Drake do to him?”

  “Nothing-yet. They're still in the meeting. I wasn't able to get close to the room, and the wards surrounding it are more than I can handle without being obvious.”

  Warrick growled under his breath. His eyes and ears at Morgan, Ltd. were failing him.

  “What about the woman? Where is she?”

  “She's still here. The wards around Drake's suite are bolstered by guards in the hallway-his most-trusted people. Nothing and nobody is getting by them.”

  “Damn.” He had to get that woman in his hands somehow. She was the key to toppling Drake's hold on the coven once and for all. “Keep an eye on her. I want to know everything about her and where she is at all times. I'll be sending Yorrick over to assist you. He'll come in the usual way.”

  “Tell him to be careful. They are using illusion traps that will trigger alarms. I'll do a sweep of the sub-basement before he gets here. Give me, say, an hour. But once he gets into the building proper, I can't guarantee anything. I'd get caught. Drake called in all his security people on this one. Rhea is not going anywhere outside this building.”

  * * * *

  Rhea wasn't staying in this building a moment longer than it took for her to find some clothes and get the hell out of there.

  The nerve of the man! Yes, he saved her from the clichéd fate worse than death, but how dare he strip her naked and put her in his bed? Just because he made love to her, somehow, in her head, didn't give the man any rights. Heck, she didn't even know the man, other than what she'd read in the papers and learned about him and his business at the law office.

  Plus, he scared her. The way he made her feel. She was very much afraid that if he walked into this bedroom right now, she would let the man do anything he wanted to her. So much for her vaunted education and independence. The man was so alpha male he would overpower her-and then there were the strange powers he seemed to have.

  Nope, no way she was sticking around here any longer than it took her to get dressed and get the hell out of Dodge.

  Tossing aside the bed covers, she swung her legs out of the bed. Now, where to find some clothes? She glanced around the room. No closet. She decided to look in the bathroom.

  As she walked past the vanity mirror, her naked image stared back at her. She blushed, then cringed. The man had seen her body! He'd touched her while she was asleep. Never mind the fact that somehow he'd made mad, passionate love to her in her dreams, both waking and sleeping, for almost two weeks.

  But, she realized, he'd done it again today! The bastard had brought her to a rousing orgasm while he held her unconscious body. Naked! In his arms.

  The nerve of the man!

  Fuming, she searched the bathroom and found her underwear hanging on a heated towel bar. They were slightly damp. How had that happened? No, she didn't want to know. Her clothes, folded neatly, lay on a chest of drawers in the large walk-in closet. Her shoes on a shelf, lined up next to several pairs of men's black shoes.

  Rhea! Come to me!

  It wasn't him. The voice calling her was feminine, the same voice which talked to her in her home. She decided to ignore it.

  Hell, once she got out of there she was calling a psychologist. She was pretty sure she had gone completely round the bend. She wasn't even going to think about Drake Morgan seemingly flying up the stairwell to save her. Nope, that wasn't even going to cro
ss her conscious mind. Voices were bad enough.

  After dressing, she stalked back to the bedroom. She avoided looking at the rumpled bed.

  He didn't claim you-yet.

  “Who didn't claim me?” she asked out loud, afraid to think the words. Afraid it would work as it had with Drake Morgan.

  Your male complement.

  “My male complement? You mean, Mandrake Morgan?”

  Yes. He is your destiny.

  “Like hell he is.”

  We'll see. Come to the carved chest. You'll see something of yours.

  Spinning around, Rhea spied a carved chest in the corner of the room. As she approached she not only heard the voice more strongly, but also felt the almost magnetic attraction she'd experienced upon first finding the secret room.

  Two books lay on top of the chest. Her books! How did they get here?

  Morgan took them. To confirm your witch heritage.

  “Witch?” Morgan had called her a witch, also. “I'm not a witch. I'm a lawyer. Some people might say those are one in the-”

  Enough. Open the grimoire. Second spell. It will whisk you home. Then, you'll see that you are indeed a witch. A very powerful one. We have a lot of training to do-and very little time.

  “Okay. Sure. I'm game. I mean you are a figment of my imagination and, God knows, I always humor figments.”

  Rhea turned to the second spell and read:

  O hear me, West Wind.

  O hear me, East Wind.

  I seek thy assistance

  To return me to my home.

  As she continued to read the words, she followed the directions and rotated clockwise while visualizing her house.

  The air in the room stirred, at first gently, in a swirling motion, then with ever-increasing speed. Out of the turbulence arose a vortex that swept Rhea and the books up and away.

  The next thing Rhea knew she was standing in the secret room of her house, a little dizzy, and only slightly disheveled. The books lay on the desk where she had last left them.

  Stunned, Rhea plopped into the chair next to the desk. “I really, really need to get some psychological help.”

  “No, my child, you're mental faculties are just fine. You are a witch, and it's long past the time for you to be trained to meet your destiny.”