by Cassi Carver
“Thank you, Mr. Cross. That will be the third floor, room 303.” After handing his card back, the woman made two magnetized room keys and handed one to Kara and one to Gavin.
Kara tromped up the stairs and swiped her card in the key reader. The suite was beautiful, with colonial furniture and new linens and carpets. It even had a tiny kitchenette with a microwave, a small sink and a high-end coffeemaker on the counter.
Gavin closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry, Kara. I know you’d prefer not to share a suite, but until we speak with Claudius and figure out what’s going on with the witches, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
If there was one thing that rubbed her the wrong way, it was men who thought she couldn’t take care of herself.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Gavin—you may be lord of your clan, but you’re not the lord of me. You don’t get to shove your way in and out of my life. I know losing Julian was hard on you, but it was hard on me, too. You said you’d be there for me and then you left, and that was worse than if you’d never made the promise to begin with. You don’t have the right to be all ‘alpha-protector’ now. Don’t even start.”
Gavin watched Kara disappear into the first bedroom, then she shut the door behind her. He was itching to put a fist-sized hole through the nearest wall. What sort of hell was this? How could he endure Kara’s antipathy? He was a fucking mess, his insides a festering ball of vitriol and self-loathing.
After enduring weeks of his father’s torment, all he wanted to do was drop to his knees and lay his head against Kara’s breast. He longed for her touch, her hands in his hair or even a glimmer of compassion in her eyes.
He thought being near her would be enough, but her scent and the sight of her soft, full lips only made it worse for him. He wanted to beg for her forgiveness and tell her of his time in the Shadowland, but he knew that Kara saw things in black and white. When she learned he’d sired a child in their time apart, she would never forgive him. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness anyhow.
The only thing he had to offer her anymore was his protection. And if helping this black-wing made Kara happy, he would risk his life to do it. Hell, if giving Aniliáre blood to a high priest wasn’t the most idiotic thing he’d ever heard of, he might have returned to the Shadowland to grovel for it just to ease Kara’s worry when he placed the crimson drops in her hand.
His head and shoulders were bowed when she opened the door again. Before she could speak he said, “I brought a T-shirt for you to wear to bed until I can retrieve your things.” He unzipped his bag and handed her the oversized shirt. “Here you are.”
She took it from his grip without even looking in his eyes. “Thanks.”
When she turned toward the couch, he couldn’t help reaching for her. “Wait.”
He took her arm and pulled her to him, crushing her body against his and dropping his cheek to the top of her head. She was stiff in his arms, as if she could no longer tolerate his touch.
“Gavin, no…” Her voice was a wisp of breath at his throat—not nearly strong enough to break his hold.
“Please.” His words were choked, as though tears threatened to clog his throat. What kind of guardian would cry in front of a woman he’d sworn to watch over? Not him. “I… Just a moment longer…”
He clutched her fiercely, his fingertips sinking into her flesh as his lungs expanded. He wanted to remember this forever. The way she smelled. The energy playing between their bodies. The feel of her in his arms—like divine providence.
But finally, she pushed away. “I need to change and get to bed. It’s been a long day.”
When she walked away this time, he realized that no matter how he fooled himself, a memory of Kara would never be enough.
Chapter Fifteen
Kara awoke to the sound of footsteps pacing outside her door. The air was quivering with a low, continuous vibration, and she knew instantly that something was off. She glanced at the alarm clock. Five a.m.?
With only Gavin’s white T-shirt to keep her warm, Kara wrapped the hotel bedspread around her shoulders and padded across the room. When she opened the door, Gavin whirled on her, his lips pulled back in a snarl. She realized the vibration she was hearing was his soft, steady growl.
She rubbed her eyes. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not sure. My wings, I think.”
Gavin wasn’t the type to overreact. Kara centered her thoughts, then cast them out beyond her room. It felt like sifting her fingers through the sand and finding shards of glass. “I feel something, but I’m not quite sure what it is.”
“Get dressed,” he barked. “And put on your shoes—quickly.”
Kara didn’t like the wild look in his eyes. Something was seriously wrong. She stepped forward, dropped the blanket and clasped her arms around his waist. “Forget the shoes. It’s island time.”
“Kara!” He grasped her by the shoulders and moved her away from him. “My wings aren’t working. Go get your flaming clothes on!”
“Oh, shit.” Kara turned and hightailed it to the bathroom, yanking her jeans up her legs with preternatural speed. But before she could even slip her feet in her sandals or drape Julian’s sweater around her, a thundering crack splintered the air.
“Run!” Gavin shouted, but the word was followed with a yelp and the sound of flesh smacking flesh.
She frantically looked around for something she could use to defend herself, but she hadn’t brought any weapons from San Diego. Seeing no other option, she yanked the shower-curtain rod from between the walls and sprang from the bathroom, unsure of what she was coming up against.
Gavin was on the floor grappling with two men who looked like they were holding him down more with magic than brute strength. He glanced back at her. “Run!”
But she didn’t have time. Another man and woman were coming straight for her. Kara spun the shower rod like a staff, twirling it in a figure eight before connecting with the side of the man’s head. The metal of her makeshift weapon was lightweight, but the muscle she put behind it had the man staggering back. He clutched a hand to his temple, then lurched toward her again. She was ready this time and shifted the rod to her side to deliver a blow to his stomach. He fell to his knees and grunted at the woman, “Call…the others!”
With a quick glance at Gavin, Kara confirmed he was holding his own. He had one man pinned under him and knocked that man out with a quick strike to the head. The other jumped on Gavin’s back and looped a rope around his neck, but instead of choking him, the cord seemed to be burning his skin.
“Gavin!” Kara cried.
The man on his knees in front of her started to rise, so Kara hauled back and clocked him upside the head once more, this time sending him out for good.
“Kara…stop her!” Gavin’s words were strained and full of pain. It was all Kara could do to leap toward the door instead of going to Gavin’s aid.
The black-haired woman was almost out the door when Kara dropped the rod and grabbed her long ponytail, yanking her back inside. She shoved the woman up against the wall and drove her knee into her stomach. But the woman was stronger than Kara had anticipated, and instead of crumpling, she threw her fist into Kara’s eye.
Pain blasted the right side of her face, and she couldn’t see much beyond the blood filling her vision. She released the woman for only a moment, but it was long enough for the witch to pull a clip from her hair and throw it up in the air.
The butterfly clip exploded like a tiny firework as the woman shouted, “Come!”
Kara wasn’t a witch, but she could feel the power in the summons. The witches obviously had a plan B, and Kara didn’t want to wait around to find out what it was. She spun around and delivered a roundhouse kick to the woman’s face, hard enough to send her crashing to the carpet.
The sound of feet thundering up the first flight of stairs got Kara’s attention. “Gavin, we have to go.”
His face red and his neck straining from the burning rop
e around his throat, Gavin rolled to his back, taking his rider with him and pinning the other man under him. He rose up, then threw his weight against his assailant, crushing the air from the other man’s lungs. With a final wheeze, the man went limp.
The footfalls were almost to them, and the sound of voices raised in unison echoed through the walls. “Gavin…” Kara warned.
Gavin plucked the rope from his throat, but his fingers smoked where he touched it. “The window,” he rasped, leaping to his feet.
He dashed to the darkened window and opened his arms to her. At the same time, half a dozen men shoved through the door, and Kara felt the dark energy whipping around them. The one in the lead’s hands glowed with blue fire, not unlike what Lace had wielded on Kara’s first night on the island.
“Kara!” Gavin shouted.
And Kara ran for him.
She didn’t have a plan, but as the man brought his arm back to release a livid ball of blue light, Kara dove into Gavin’s arms. She expected him to flash, but to her disbelief, he cocooned her head and crashed feet-first through the window. Her legs flailed as they fell three stories. She braced for the impact to rocket through her bare feet and ankles, but it never came. Gavin landed upright, with Kara cradled protectively in his embrace.
Before she could catch her breath, he set her down, took her hand and tugged. “This way.”
She trailed after him, clutching tight to his hand, not quite as fast as his long-legged stride, but way beyond what humans or witches could manage. The ground was freezing, the pebbles of the worn asphalt biting into her raw skin.
“They did something to me,” he said. “I can’t flash.”
“Should I call Aiden?”
“I tried before you woke—the charms aren’t working. This is no low-level magic, Kara. These witches are trained in nex veneficus.”
“What the hell is that?” Her feet were in icy agony, and she began to shiver uncontrollably.
They cut across a parking lot and headed for the trees. A smattering of houses lay beyond the main road, but she and Gavin wove through the knee-high shrubs and kept going.
“Death magic. I wasn’t aware there were covens out there still practicing it. We thought it had been eradicated.”
“How do you know that’s what it is?”
“That cord around my neck. If I hadn’t gotten it off when I did, it would have tightened of its own volition, and it wouldn’t have stopped squeezing until it had severed my head. It’s a classic weapon the death magic covens used to wield. It takes serious magic. Why they would use it on me, I have no idea. But one thing is certain—they’re tracking us.”
“But witches can’t flash. How did they get here so fast?”
Hand in hand, they skirted around the back of a large brick home. A dog stood by the back door, barking like crazy. Why the heck weren’t the yards fenced here like they were in So Cal? If there was anything else Kara didn’t want to deal with tonight it was a dog with an attitude.
“Even witches practicing nex veneficus don’t have functioning teleportation spells. They could be working with mercenary silver-wings, but with the amount of people they sent after us, it’s more likely they have networks on both coasts—perhaps even across the country.”
“Shit.” She would have squeezed her eyes shut for a moment if she didn’t need them open to dodge the branches and twigs whizzing past her face as they ran. “How did they find me?”
“All it takes is one of your possessions and your blood, and they can find you anywhere. The possession would be easy. Their counterparts probably grabbed it when they didn’t find you at the apartment, but your blood…how would they get that without your knowing it?”
“I can think of a few ways.” Kara’s head was spinning, but she pulled her hand from his and raised her first finger to count. “I bled at the scene of the accident when the beam fell on me. There would have been more than a few drops there.” She raised the next finger. “And then there was the time the men ran me down with their car. I bled quite a bit then.” Next finger. “Or it could have been when Steve cut the grooves in my face. The hay was pretty drenched under my head. Or I guess it could have been—”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Gavin growled. “Please tell me these witches haven’t been trying to kill you for days while you spouted off about independence and not needing a clan. I know you’re a prideful woman, but I never thought you were a fool.”
His words stung as bad as the soles of her feet. “Gee. Thanks. Nothing like a nice, solid kick when you’re down.”
Their breath coming in soft, rapid puffs, they finally slowed to a stop. She looked around but had no stinking idea where they were. If Gavin flashed and left her here, she wasn’t even sure she could find her way back to the diner. That’s why she liked downtown San Diego with its streets laid out in a predictable pattern. She enjoyed a beautiful view as much as the next person, but she wasn’t a mountain woman.
She met Gavin’s eyes in the predawn darkness. “So tell me what we’re dealing with.”
“There isn’t much that works against the Demiáre, but death magic was designed to target what the witches would call the Fallen. That’s us, princess.”
“Yes, I’m becoming pretty familiar with the term.” But she wouldn’t mind if she never heard it again. “So how do we break the tracking spell? Either that, or we need your wings back in the game.”
Gavin frowned and flexed his shoulders. “Let me try again.”
The concentration on his face would have been cute if they weren’t being chased by a crazed group of witches practicing really ugly spells. “Anything?”
“Let’s sit for a moment.” He walked to a fallen log and plopped down. He hadn’t been wearing a shirt when she’d discovered him pacing by the door, and watching the goose bumps flare across his arms, she realized she wasn’t the only one who was freezing.
“You know, now they have your blood on the broken glass at the hotel, and you left your bag behind. It’s not just me they can track.”
He smiled wryly. “Yes, I thought of that.”
“Well…crap. That’s okay. Try your wings one more time. Let me see what’s going on.”
When she laid her hands against his shoulder blades, he sucked in a breath. “Your fingers are like ice cubes.”
“So is the rest of me. Sorry.” She pressed her fingertips against his back and felt around. “Okay, get ready. One, two, three… Push.”
But the only thing that burst from Gavin was laughter. “I’m trying to extend my wings, princess, not give birth.”
She snorted. “How can you be making light of this? We’re talking about death magic—next venom-ickiness…or something like that. It’s not funny, Gavin.”
His lips twitched. “No, it’s not funny. I’m sorry. Come, sit down next to me. Let me warm you.”
Even covered in bumps, Gavin looked like he could offer a substantial amount of heat on a cold night. Kara’s mouth drew into a tight line. She wasn’t going to forgive him. There was no way. But the word fool came to mind again, and she had no intention of proving him right by being too stubborn to take the help he offered.
She sat, and he placed an arm around her shoulders. At first, his skin seemed frigid, but within moments, his body heat warmed her where they touched. Her fingers were so numb, she could hardly feel the tips. But her feet…fortunately, they’d lost sensation a while back.
When her hands crept along his sides and slipped between his other arm and his ribs, Gavin’s jaw clenched. The poor man was already an icicle, and her touch actually looked as if it was hurting him. She bit her lip and began to pull away.
“Don’t you dare,” he growled.
“Suit yourself.”
She sighed when the feeling came back to her fingers, then she pressed closer to him, not able to resist laying her cheek against his bare shoulder.
He squeezed her tighter, his massive arm heavy across her back. “Julian’s cabin isn’t too fa
r, but unless we can break the tracking spell, we can’t go there. They would simply follow.”
“Julian has a cabin here?”
His breath on her temple billowed like fog around her head when he spoke. “We have homes around the globe, some old, some new, but Julian has been tied to this land for a thousand years—long before Columbus discovered it. Sometimes I would come with him to visit, but if we visited too much, it was always the same. Someone needed to have their memories sorted, others needed to be persuaded they never saw us at all. It was an adequate system, but those days are coming to an end.”
She shifted to look up at him. “What do you mean?”
“Facial recognition software. Needing fingerprints for the most mundane things. Mark my words, the age of technology will be our undoing. We won’t be able to hide our existence from the general population much longer.”
“General population? Who knows about us besides the witches? ’Cause I know for a fact that most witches want to keep their business on the down-low as much as we do.” It was still strange sometimes thinking of the witches as “them” and the Demiáre as “us”. The witches had been her people, at least in her own skewed version of reality.
“There are certain classified government groups that know of us and help maintain our way of life. We cooperate when need be, and they stay out of Demiáre affairs. They don’t want to cause panic among the masses any more than we want every cable channel ghost hunter investigating the Shadowland.”
“How do I not know these things?” Kara almost pinched him, but she held back and let her loud voice do the dirty work instead. “Nine weeks! Aiden had nine weeks to share this stuff with me, and I got nothin’ from him. And Jaxon! I flat-out asked him how you guys got away with not aging, and he said it’d never been a problem for him. He never once talked about secret government conspiracies.”
She returned to her warm spot on his shoulder and thought she felt his cheek bunch in a smile against her hair. “Calm down, princess. And don’t blame Jaxon. Lace is a cruel and jealous mistress who keeps her men isolated. He wouldn’t know much beyond serving her. I don’t allow government agents access to the island, and our men aren’t intimately involved in clan business.”