“There were five, and they spelled stones,” Mina whispered as she drifted into her memory. She’d never forget the five boys, grass-stained knees and untucked cotton shirts, as they surrounded her. Their faces, moments before filled with the glee of competition and exuberance, now held narrow-eyed expressions of something dark and ugly. She’d tasted the rotten fruit of their intentions and backed up.
She’d conveniently forgotten children were as vicious a predator as any lower cave monster.
The first spell blocked her exit into the shadows.
The second one locked her in place.
She waited for the next spell. Instead, a flash of something caught her eye—sharp exploding pain. They’d picked up gravel from the garden walkway, added a bit of a power spell to the stone, and it became a missile cutting through skin. She hadn’t even time to cover her head.
“Stop remembering.” Xander’s voice was short, clipped. It bothered him that she spoke of this memory. Curious.
His touch on her forehead, right where one spelled rock had hit, leaving a small scar, confirmed her suspicions.
“You don’t barely remember.” She twisted her head to look at him, his face a mask. Even his emotions he’d managed to bury deep. She leaned her head onto this chest. “You see it all.”
“What I see is a very stubborn girl who ends up in places she shouldn’t be.” His lips touched her forehead in a kiss and murmur of another spell. Her eyebrow itched as it knitted together.
She could stay in his arms forever. She imagined the soft kiss was something more than it was.
“You saved me. You put those nasty boys in a binding spell.”
“That was a long time ago, Mina.” Xander finished the last of the healing incantations, and when he shifted to move her from his lap, she clung to him.
“Please. I need to be next to you,” she begged.
A deep sigh and the sweeping impression of cotton and salt-water—he was determined and resolute. He tilted her chin up and, for some ridiculous reason, Mina thought he was going to kiss her. No. She wanted to kiss him.
He didn’t kiss her.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Mina. You’ve been through a hell of a lot today. What you think we have, this connection.” He frowned. “It’s not there. I did what any properly trained male and Mage would do. Defend the weak and helpless.”
Mina blinked. Weak and helpless?
“I’m not…”
He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “You don’t get it, Mina. You shouldn’t be here. I am a Mage; you are a Dark. Our people are at war. This is treason.” With firm hands, he set her back down on the window seat. Away from him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Xander’s voice bit out. “I can never save you.”
But you already have.
Mina dropped her eyes from his fierce blue ones and onto the large wet bloodstains she’d left on his white shirt. She laid a hand on one. The warmth of his skin underneath heated her palm.
“My hand fits here.” The stickiness of her blood clung to her skin, and the coppery scent made her mouth water. Without thinking, she lifted her hand off of him to look at the reddish stain on her fingers.
She licked her fingers, one by one, and looked at Xander under her lashes.
His eyes followed her tongue as something hungry flickered in the depths of his gaze, even as his lip curled up into a snarl of disgust.
“You’re consuming your own blood, Mina.” A musky, turbulent energy surrounded Xander, and an answering warmth echoed in her abdomen.
Mina felt her lips curve into a slow smile. “And it is delicious.”
She wasn’t lying. The iron, magic, and residual emotions she’d picked up made her blood tastier than lapping up melted chocolate. It made her long to taste Xander’s blood.
“It’s disgusting.” He said the words, but the edge of revulsion wasn’t there.
“You know you’re wrong.” Mina finished licking off her hand and gazed longingly at Xander’s chest. He stepped back, closer to his desk. Away from her.
“In what way?” He had the oddest sound to his voice, as if he were finding it hard to breathe.
“You don’t want to admit, Xander, that you like me.” She held out one finger and the small drop of blood she’d missed. “Here, you know you want to taste me.”
He cursed.
She smiled. Her skin still felt tight, and it would for the next few hours as her body processed the healing magic and spells he’d poured into her. Guilt and something she suspected was lust—an emotion whose scent changed from person-to-person—enveloped him. This one was of fading pine and dead leaves, essences similar to an Elemental.
Maybe I’m not so weak or helpless.
“No?” At Xander’s head shake, Mina popped her finger in her mouth to get the last drop. A pained look crossed his features, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. When she withdrew her finger, she sighed. She wished she could get him to stop fighting himself and understand he did care.
But Xander didn’t want to hear her memory of the day long ago when he’d dried her tears and held her close after he saved her from the other boys. She could still see his smooth-cheeked face, now hard-planed and menacing with maturity. She’d heard about people falling in love at first sight, an instant awareness that this was the one person for you. Even though she’d been so young, she knew.
She loved Xander Fjordson, without reservation or hesitation, from that day on. Now he just needed to realize that he loved her, too.
Chapter Six
ONE GOOD THING CAME OUT of Nicki’s relationship with the low-life scumbag of a shape-shifter, Victor. Other than mind-blowing sex, was his insistence she learn to shoot a gun, the only thing he assured her could kill any of the races—Mages, Dark, Elemental, and human. Magic still hadn’t figured out how to outrun a bullet. This lesson occurred before he tried to kill one of her best friends.
Too bad Victor disappeared, because if she could get ahold of him, she’d shoot him herself.
Now Nicki held the compact 9mm Smith & Wesson she’d taken from the drawer next to her kitchen sink. She had a .45 revolver in her bedroom, a .22 automatic in her bathroom, and a shotgun under her couch. She made sure every room had something in it. She couldn’t rely on spells to save her ass.
Behind her, in the corner next to the pantry, the shadow’s thickened. The strange electrical energy of magic from the wards she’d placed to protect her home made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She didn’t know who or what was coming through the portal, but it wasn’t Mina. Her presence wasn’t so volatile. Mina had assisted her with this spell, and it shouldn’t be making Nicki break out into a cold sweat.
Whatever it was better be worth it, because she really didn’t want to be scrubbing goo off her floors and walls for the next week.
A scuff of a foot hit the tile, and Nicki swung around and pointed the 9mm center mass and fired.
The large boom from the gun going off made her jerk. On the firing range, she had ear plugs. She never once took into consideration how loud discharging a gun inside a room would sound. Nice to know—after the fact. She could only hope her neighbors and the police were still too freaked out about the local disaster to have time to check on her.
The reverberations from the loud noise echoed inside her. She couldn’t help the flinch when she pulled the trigger, one she’d thought she’d trained herself out of. But hell, this was the first time she fired inside her own home.
She killed her snack foods.
She missed hitting whoever it was by an embarrassing three feet. It wouldn’t have mattered—the man, or at least she thought that was what she saw, had the reflexes of a cat and ducked. Something heavy hit the floor. It wasn’t her intruder, because she caught a flash of movement to her left just as her bullet hit the pantry, splintering wood, drilling through the paper and canned products inside.
“Damn it!” Ears ringing, Nicki scanned the room, focusing
on her left, looking for the unknown Dark. She knew it was a Dark because only they could walk through shadows. “Whoever you are, get the hell out of my house.”
Hard hands came out of nowhere. One jerked the gun out of her hand, and the other pushed her back against the counter. The granite dug into her back.
She kicked out, but it made the Dark move in on her, pressing against her body. Nicki had the sudden image of the gray-skinned monsters slicing up the Mages just before Mina pushed her into the shadows. Horror rolled up her spine as rational thought took a vacation. She renewed her struggle, clawing, kicking, biting, but it got her nowhere.
The cold press of the gun into her forehead stilled her.
“Stop it.” The voice was rich and luscious. “I’m not in the mood to wrestle with a Mage.”
Nicki blinked, staring into the rough features and midnight hair and eyes of the man holding her own damn gun to her head.
He had the most beautiful lips she’d ever seen. Kissable lips. Dressed in black, he filled the small corner of the counter he’d backed her into.
He smelled of leather and cinnamon.
This was the type of guy she’d give up Lent for. It was also the same sort of guy she’d drunk way to many bottles of wine with her friends trying to forget. Like Victor.
Not anymore.
“I take it this isn’t a social call.” There used to be a time when Nicki wouldn’t have had the guts to say that sort of thing. Instead, she would’ve flirted. Licked her lips. Pushed out her ample chest. Smiled. Danger to her had been an aphrodisiac. It still was, but this time, she wasn’t going to let it seduce her.
She was going to fight the danger.
Fight him.
She looked into his bottomless eyes and didn’t look away.
“No. I’m here for Mina.” He didn’t smile, but gave her a flat-eyed look, similar to someone looking over an insect. His rich voice was cool. She knew then he’d kill her and not think twice.
She understood that—and it frightened her.
“Obviously, she’s not here.” Nicki kept her voice calm. She tried for an unaffected tone, relieved it came out level and not in a squeak.
“Where is she?” He pressed the gun to her head just a bit harder. Fear should’ve taken over then; instead, a rush of adrenaline shot through her—this whole situation pissed her off. There is nothing worse than having your own fucking weapon turned against you.
“How the hell should I know?” She didn’t like the gun on her forehead. It would leave a mark, and she’d have to go get makeup to cover it—providing he didn’t shoot her first. Prick. “She left hours ago,” she added, glaring at him. He wore a loose gray scarf around his neck. She wondered about that.
What I should be thinking about is my life here.
He frowned at that information. Worry tickled Nicki’s mid-section. Was this guy trying to find Mina and hurt her?
“You’re Nicki, aren’t you?” His voice caressed her name, making it sound elegant and beautiful. “Because if you aren’t, I wasted my time coming here, and…” He stopped, looking around the room. “All the fucking spell books Mina asked me to bring her are scattered over the floor, and I’m not picking them up. I could’ve put them on the counter, but you had to try and blow my head off.”
“Maybe you should’ve knocked at the front door,” Nicki told him. She lifted her hand and with one finger pushed at the gun pointed to her forehead. “Is this is a Dark trait?”
“Yes,” he surprised her by answering. He allowed her to push the Smith & Wesson away from her. He stepped back and kept his gaze on her as he cleared the gun’s chamber, popped out the magazine, and emptied it of all the bullets. He dropped the bullets into the sink, the light clink of them hitting the metal. A sign of her failure.
“You have very good instincts, but you’re a terrible shot.” He made sure the gun was empty and tossed it across the room. Which didn’t matter—as soon as she got into her living room she’d get the shotgun.
“Right now, I’m not here to kill you. What I need to know is what happened to my sister.”
At least he said he wasn’t here to kill her right now. This left open a future date in which he’d attempt her demise. Charming.
“Lev.” Nicki watched as he lifted his brows, surprised she knew him. “She told me about you.” The impression she’d gotten was one of doting brother who taught Mina much of what she knew. This was not the nice guy she’d heard about.
“She obviously left off a few details. Typical.” His eyes roamed over her as he spoke. “Can I trust you to not attack me, or am I going to have to tie you up?”
“You need to go,” Nicki insisted. Tie her up, indeed. Asshole.
He shook his head.
“The last place I knew Mina was supposed to be was here. Things have gone to shit. Your people—” here his eyes narrowed a fraction “—want us annihilated, if that demonstration at the mall was any indication. And my sister is at the center of it. Many of my people want her to pay. So, you are going to help me find her.”
Nicki blinked. What was more important to her at this point? Getting Mina’s brother out of her house—or finding her friend? She swallowed some of her anger, pushing it down in that dark space where her magic lay dormant.
“Why do you want to find her?” Nicki wasn’t sure if his motives were truly altruistic or if he was going to hand Mina over to those who wanted her to pay.
“Why don’t you want to help me?” He countered, crossing his arms in front of him. “You’re her friend; I would’ve thought you’d be more loyal.”
“I am. But I don’t trust you.”
“That’s fair. I don’t trust you, either.”
Silence. They stared at each other, both unwilling to make the next move.
Nicki rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She put her hand on her hips. “But there are some ground rules. Don’t ever turn my weapons against me.”
“So long as you don’t shoot at me, we’re good,” he answered in a reasonable voice.
Nicki pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “If we really want to find Mina, we need a witch.”
“Do you know one?”
“I do.” She pressed her speed dial and waited for her friend to answer. “Rachel, I need a favor.”
Lev smiled then, showing his many serrated teeth, and Nicki shivered.
Chapter Seven
“TELL ME, MINA…” Xander leaned down to open the bottom drawer of his desk with a spell and batted an annoying flying paper crane out of his face. The unlocking incantation was simple enough; he didn’t even need to speak the few words necessary, the spell responding instead to his focused thought. “How did you get through the wards I placed?”
Now that he’d healed her, Xander’s initial concern bled into something more immediate. Security. His. How did she get through? He’d made certain no one could walk through the shadows, or all of the Mages would be dead by now. Slaughtered by vengeful Darks, especially after the spectacular show by his people today.
“I used a spell.” She said it in a low voice as if hoping he wouldn’t hear.
Shit. She used Mage magic again.
He straightened with the half-full bottle of the golden liquid, a thirty-year-old bottle of Macallan, his personal stash. He wasn’t under any illusion after helping Mina he’d get out of this intact. To hell with wasting a good scotch. He twisted and pulled off the cap and, tilting the bottle to his mouth, took a long pull.
A glass would take too damn long.
Savoring the smooth burn, he swallowed a large mouthful before he answered.
“A Mage spell.” He didn’t form it as a question, but a statement. He looked at her bent head, origami animals flapped around her short, spiky hair. Her shoulders hunched—a signal she wanted to avoid this subject.
“Isabelle may have taught you, but I thought you had better sense.” The mention of the Chairman’s now-dead wife didn’t appear to affect her. Not even a shudder. It was Isabelle wh
o took an unlikely interest in Mina and taught her things she shouldn’t have. The whisper of paper as the Darkling flipped over the sheets he’d made notes on and the soft flip-flap of the flying paper creations were the only response.
“This isn’t going away. If you’re caught, they will bleed you dry.” Why the hell he pressed this, he couldn’t explain. It was well known Darks were forbidden to practice Mage magic—a veritable death sentence. If she was out of his life, it would make his easier. But when she moved her head and he caught the white scars where he’d healed her, a nameless panic crawled up his spine with icy claws and it…pissed him off. “Performing those spells changes them, by your very nature,” he told her, hardening his voice. It was true; Mage magic was very logical, specific. Dark magic was unpredictable—the spells never came out the same way twice. “Using the transportation spell could’ve killed you. Instead of arriving here in one piece, only parts of you would’ve manifested.” That was one graphic training aid no Mage forgot when losing control of a spell. He could still see the ragged body parts scattered over the room, the sickly rotten scent of bowels and blood. The head and one leg were missing and, to his knowledge, they never found them. He’d been twelve years old and learned there was no room for error in magic.
It couldn’t happen to Mina.
He took a step closer, crowding her, wanting her to do what? To cower? She didn’t. With a tilt of her head, she looked at him with her large fathomless eyes as her lips parted.
“There were monsters.”
It took a moment for the words to register in his brain. Instead, he found his hand reaching out and tracing the newly healed scar on Mina’s lip.
“Where?”
She took a step closer to him. He set down his scotch on the desk with a thump as he let his one hand trace the contour of her cheek. Her skin was porcelain, smooth, except for the new scars, unblemished by the small things humans contended with like large pores, acne, or laugh lines. The heat from her skin brought with it a faint scent of chamomile. His anger faded into something more akin to a strange focus as he breathed in what was her.
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