“Don’t threaten me, A,” Ram said. “Not with sex. You don’t have any idea what you might unleash.” Ram turned and strode away. He believed in the chain of command, but not for this. He’d deal with this his own way.
Chapter Two
Ginny came to on the floor, stuffed into an unused corner of the bathroom in the nightclub. The gray tile was cold beneath her, and her muscles were cramped. Pushing up, she blinked in the bright light and fought to clear her sluggish brain.
She saw her cell phone shattered on the tiled floor next to her, and her memory surged back. Sick with that awful vision, she had stumbled into the bathroom.
Swallowing against the nausea, she had refused to fall apart and be sick when those witches needed help. Damning the consequences, she’d pulled out her cell, determined to call one of the witch hunters out in the field and convince him to go find the enslaved witches.
She’d been scrolling through her contacts when she felt her father’s sudden cold touch blast through her aura and then blackness. The fact that her aura came directly from her angel sire gave that asshole the ability to reach her physically anytime he wished. He could hear and see through her aura as well. Knocking her unconscious was better than some of the crap he did. She’d bet he made her appear invisible too so that anyone who came into the bathroom wouldn’t have noticed her in the corner.
Furious, she climbed to her feet and kicked the shards of the phone across the floor. As the clattering noise settled, she realized it was quiet outside the bathroom. Too quiet.
How long had she been out?
Had Shane gone to the blood slaves while she lay on the floor? Her bile rose again, but she refused to give in. Shane seemed to know she was on to him, but he wouldn’t know that she couldn’t rat him out. Hopefully he wouldn’t risk going there so soon.
Ginny went to the sink and splashed cold water on her face, trying to pull herself together. When she looked up in the mirror, she saw herself.
The useless Halfling.
Her brother, Eli, had a purpose of fighting rogues to serve his god. Sure, he could only serve until Ginny was called to duty, since he’d be forced to go with her as her Eternal Guardian. But at least he was useful. At least he could fight and make a difference.
But Ginny? She had her base strength, grace, and speed, and in the last two years, she was getting flashes of a new power that she couldn’t yet control. Wouldn’t be able to control until she ascended, leaving her mortality behind. But until then? She was useless, not allowed to do anything with the information her power revealed. Her father had forbidden it. It was some kind of celestial rule. As a Halfling, Ginny didn’t need to understand, just do as she was told.
She dried her face, refusing to look in the mirror again, refusing to see the weak coward she was forced to be. Her father had used his power to knock her out of commission and break her cell phone. Jesus, was she really going to allow him to break her too? Was she going give up trying to help those blood slaves that easily?
She closed her eyes and saw that chained witch again, her skin sliced open by Shane, and knew her answer. No matter what her punishment, she had to try. She stuffed the paper towel in the trash and turned, determined to find someone to help those witches. Rushing out of the bathroom, she walked out into the silent, empty and dark club.
As she’d suspected, Axel of Evil was shut down. She was alone as she made her way to one of the bars, flipping on the lights around the mirrored rack holding various bottles of liquor. There was a landline beneath the bar that she reached for.
A sudden and menacing streak of brutal light blazed in the club, so powerful it burned through her and stabbed her brain. The angel had one suck-ass calling card. Forgetting the phone, Ginny covered her eyes with her arms. “Enough!” Damn, when her father dropped in, he made an entrance. She’d have been the hit of her birthday party—the one and only that she’d ever had—if her father had shown up.
But he hadn’t, of course. Ginny was a tool to him, not a child. It had taken her many painful years to figure that out. About the same time she’d figure out her mother was angel-struck, sort of the celestial version of star-struck. Her and Eli’s mother did anything and everything the angel said, regardless of the emotional or physical pain it caused her children.
Nothing like a visit from a parent to stir up all her childhood angst. Sheesh, get over it already.
The violent glow that felt like hot satin on her skin dimmed from stunning starburst to flickering firelight. “My patience thins, daughter.”
She blinked away tears caused by the searing light and lifted her head. Lance, short for Vigilance, stood a few feet from her. He’d muted his angel fire glow, but his diamond-bright wings gave away his true essence. The feathers were the color of the moon pouring over a still lake—white diamond with veins of blue and gray. Folded like they were now, there was an elegant arch rising up to her father’s height of six foot, ten inches, then they swept down in a graceful curve to brush his calves.
Spread for flight, his wingspan was easily fourteen feet.
The rest of the angel appeared almost mortal—black hair, blue eyes, thin and wiry build—if one ignored the wings and internal glow that made him look like he was professionally backlit.
He was stunningly beautiful, but emotionally cold. If given a choice, Ginny wouldn’t trade her plainness and ability to care for even a fraction of that beauty.
She ignored his announcement of impatience and went right to what she cared about. “I can’t let those witches suffer.”
“They are not your worry. Or mine.”
Like he gave a shit about her worries. Speaking of worries, where was her brother? Looking around the dim, empty club with her still watering eyes, she asked, “Where is Eli? He wouldn’t just leave me.”
Eli was as screwed by daddy dearest as Ginny. Which sucked even more for Eli since Lance wasn’t even his father, although she and Eli had the same mother. Five years older than Ginny, he’d been born a witch hunter. But because of the old curse that broke the hunters’ link with their god, Wing Slayer, Lance had been able to claim him as a servant, compelling Eli into the role as Ginny’s protector.
And once Ginny was forced to ascend, Eli would go with her.
In spite of Eli’s hatred of her father, and the role that had been thrust on him, Eli loved Ginny and protected her. He’d never leave her unconscious on the bathroom floor.
The edges of Lance’s wings darkened. “He serves me. I planted a memory of him finding you sick and taking you home. He told the other hunters you’re resting in your own bed and already feeling better.”
She hated the way her father treated Eli. It didn’t matter to Lance that Eli wanted only to serve his god as a Wing Slayer Hunter. Once Ginny ascended from this world, Eli would be ripped out of the life he loved. Ginny would not let that happen. “He only serves you because you stole him from his god.”
Tiny sparks popped around his wings. “Defending your brother. An excellent example of family love. You’ve done well learning many of the mortal emotions. But you still lack the vital piece that drives humans to historic extremes. It’s time to finish your earthly training, Virginia, by experiencing sex, love and heartbreak.”
Chills raced down her arms at the soft ice in her father’s voice. Many people thought of angels as warm, benevolent and powerful creatures. But they had lived for centuries, and over that span of that time, they had lost all empathy with human emotion. Angels were supposed to be the watchers of humans. But time, and in Ginny’s opinion, the arrogance of too much power, had numbed them until they no longer understood the people they watched.
They were relearning with Halfings. The half angel, half mortal children grew up in the mortal world, experienced emotions while their angel parent watched and manipulated.
Then once ascended, those emotions would be taken from the Halflings and absorbed by their angel-sires. That was a father-daughter bonding experience Ginny planned on avoiding. An
d the reason she had avoided romantic entanglements and sex. “I can’t. I won’t fall in love and damn Eli to a life he doesn’t want.”
Eli would grow to hate her. And Ginny would be a shell of herself, all her emotions gone. She couldn’t bear the thought of it.
The sparks on her father’s wings turned to ice crystals. “You’d rather damn him to an eternity as a shade?”
Horror flooded her body, and bile burned her throat. Ginny locked her fingers around the edge of the bar. “You can’t do that. You’re an angel!”
“For humans, not witch hunters. I can force him to kill a witch and go rogue. Or just kill him outright and cast his soul into the between worlds before Wing Slayer can stop me.”
“And what about your god? Don’t you think He might notice an angel committing murder?”
“God’s too busy to care what happens to a single witch hunter.”
Blood pounded in her ears and rage made her dizzy. She knew her father didn’t bluff. He would destroy Eli. He was blackmailing her with her love for her brother. What choice did she have?
None.
Because her father, like other very old angels, had to regain their human understanding or they would be cast to earth as Fallens. Ginny, and her emotions, were vital to her father’s survival as an angel.
She glared at Lance with violent hatred churning in her guts. “You win. I’ll find some man and screw him.”
His blue eyes narrowed, looking like arctic chips. “That’s not the assignment. There’s only one man that makes your emotions react.”
Shit. She should have realized he’d know—even with his numbed state, he could see still the flares of her emotions in her aura.
Especially after that kiss she and Ram had shared.
So he knew there was only one man Ginny wanted. One man she dreamed about. Wished for. Even the sound of his voice stirred her desire.
The one man who, if Ginny let herself fall for him, would have the power to drive her to emotional extremes. Hell, just his rejection of her friendship had hurt enough that she’d done something reckless and stupid—she’d asked him for a kiss.
And that kiss had seared her mind, body and soul.
Her chest squeezed at the memory. Maybe she could lie, convince him it was another she had feelings for.
“Ramsey Virtos, the witch hunter,” Lance said, closing off any hope.
Ginny wouldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t. Thinking fast, she shook her head. “It won’t work. He refuses to come near me now. And he’s got his own problems with his runaway soul mirror.”
The bar lights shook and sparked. “If you want your brother to keep his soul, then you’ll do whatever it takes to make Ram forget his soul mirror long enough to get involved with you. Make it happen.”
Ginny was out of options. She had to save Eli’s soul and find a way to free him from her father’s clutches later. As for her?
She was doomed.
A wooden feeling settled heavily over her. Ram wasn’t an easy man to manipulate. “There’s only one way I can think of.” A wave of misery weighed her down even more.
Lance’s gaze studied her. “I’m listening.”
“Let me call Ram and get his help in freeing the witches being held as blood slaves.” Ram would rescue the witches, and that was the one saving grace to the treachery she was inflicting on him. “Being around that much witch blood will incite his curse,” she said, forcing herself to explain in order to gain his permission since he’d already knocked her unconscious to keep her from telling anyone. “And I’ll be there, offering sex to help him.” Bile burned her throat at what she was doing. She wouldn’t let Ram go rogue; she would do whatever she had to, both for him and for her brother.
“You can lead him to the witches as long as you don’t reveal that you are a Halfling.” Then he vanished, leaving her alone.
Heavy regret made her normally graceful steps leaden as she went to the landline and called Ram.
***
Ram strode into the nightclub and stopped at the sight before him.
Ginny.
She’d called, said she needed him in a voice that was too grave.
He’d dropped everything and come to her. Just the sight of her triggered his memory of the kiss. Sexual heat surged to slam his brain and nearly melted his bones and muscles.
He steeled himself against the effect.
Ginny threatened him, his willpower, in a way nothing else had since he was a teenager. She was too special, too extraordinary for a cursed hunter battling everyday to keep his dark side locked down.
Or so fucked up, he didn’t dare go after his coward of a soul mirror for fear he’d lose control and kill her.
Shoving away useless thoughts, he watched the way she sat at the bar, staring into a bottle of water. Her long brown hair spilled over her hunched shoulders. She had her feet braced on the rung of the barstool, one leg bouncing with pent up tension. She didn’t know he was in there yet, didn’t realize he was watching her as she sat in the gloom of just the bar lights.
He knew she was unaware because there was an aura of soft light surrounding her, so faint he doubted a mortal would see it. It looked like she had a tiny candle burning in her center, and the gentle radiance flowed out to encase her in its cozy glow.
Her aura made all other light look dull and dirty in comparison.
Ram sucked in a silent breath, fighting the need to reach into that light and touch her. Touch the very essence of Ginny. She was something more than mortal. But that wasn’t why she had called him.
What had happened to create the sadness that bowed her shoulders even as the light bathed her in sweet beauty? Time to find out. “Ginny?” he called softly.
She jerked upright, spinning around on the stool. For a second, he saw a bright green flash in her eyes. Then as the light around her pulled inward, her eyes flattened to their normal hazel. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Few people do.” He strode to where she sat, clenching his fingers tight into his palms to keep from reaching out and rubbing the obvious tension from her shoulders. “Why did you call me?”
She eased slightly. “Shane.”
A whip of electric tension shot through his system. “Did he hurt you?” Damn. Had Shane done something to her that Ram hadn’t seen?
“No, he only grabbed my wrist.” She lifted her right arm to indicate the wrist. “That’s not—”
Needing to see for himself, he caught her hand in his fingers.
Sparks shot from his fingers and zapped her. Jerking his hand away, he took a step back. Damn bird. It was one thing for the creature to shock him, but he would not allow it to hurt a woman.
Especially Ginny.
“Ram, that little pop didn’t hurt me. Nor did Shane. I just need you to listen.”
Her voice melted some of his tension, much as it tried to melt his vigilant self-control. Standing straight, he folded his arms over his chest. “Shane is dead, Ginny. He can’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Although Ram thought she would have called her brother if that had been her concern.
Why had she called him?
She lifted her head, staring up at him. “Who killed him?”
“I did. I followed him. He attacked a witch in a convenience store.” Ram was still pissed that he hadn’t caught Shane before he cut the witch, but at least she was alive.
“I should have told someone sooner. That witch could have died.”
Ram could see the misery clouding her eyes. “Told someone what? What happened between you and Shane?”
She slid off the stool and stood, bringing her closer to him.
Too close.
Ram couldn’t look away from her. Her long legs were encased in dark jeans that emphasized the wicked curve of her hips. That t-shirt clung to her belly and cupped her breasts. She had a long neck, exposed by her hair clipped up on her head. Long tendrils of her dark hair slipped down, brushing over the swell of her breasts. And her f
ace—the elegance of it made his fingers twitch to touch her. To track the gentle curves.
He stood rooted to the spot. He knew he had to move, step back. Keep distance. Then he caught her scent, light and so damned tantalizing his mouth watered for more of it. Of her.
She stepped toward him. “Shane was getting blood from witches captured and held as blood slaves.”
He yanked his brain back into focus. “Blood slaves.” Just the words sickened Ram. “I smelled blood on him. Where are the witches being held, do you know?”
She met his gaze. “Yes. There are three of them. We need to rescue them.”
Ram folded his arms over his chest and looked down at her. “Not we. I’ll go. Tell me where they are.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I have to show you. I don’t know the street names, but I’ll recognize it by sight.”
He studied her face. “What the hell is going on here, Ginny? How did you get this information? I doubt Shane told you.”
“He didn’t, I found out by accident.” She moved closer to him with her flowing grace and laid her hand on his arm.
Ram froze, fearing he’d throw sparks like metal against a grinding stone. But all he felt was the touch of her fingers. It was becoming clear that the sparks only came from his fingers. The warm contact of her hand on his skin lit his nerves with a different kind of fire. “Ginny.” He threaded steel into the warning.
“Please, Ram.” She looked up at him, intensity burning in her. “Do this for me. Help me save those witches.”
All the years of his rigid training buckled under her soft touch on his arm. But he didn’t give in. Not yet. He had to figure out what was going on. Ginny didn’t play games, but clearly she had secrets that she refused to reveal. Something else was going on here. “This is about more than rescuing those witches.”
She paled slightly, but held her ground. “Yes.” She clenched her jaw, the paleness giving way to a flush. “It is. I have to seduce you.”
Forbidden Magic Page 3