It started off innocently enough. Washing away blood, sand, dirt, the past. His words rolling through my head on a loop. If I’d ever wanted romance from Wyatt, that was it. Soul mates. The thought left me breathless and I didn’t even believe in that shit. Not really.
Witches were like other species that way. Like the werewolves mating for life and the Dhampirs bonding for eternity. Witches, when they bonded, it was a melding that could only be undone with death. Your lives entwined. That was heavy shit and I’d attached some serious superstition to it. If I ever agreed to bonding, to a witch marriage, it would have to be with my soul mate.
How could Wyatt be mine when I hated him so much? When he hurt me so badly?
I tilted my head back to rinse the conditioner out of my hair, my hands slick with the stuff. Wyatt came up to me, his body heat mingling with the cascading water, almost touching me, but not quite. It made me shiver. I shifted my head until we were face to face. His violet eyes were alight with mischief.
“What?” I asked as I brushed my fingers one last time through my hair.
“What, she says.” He shook his head, a smile on his lips. “You are incorrigible.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he didn’t give me a chance. Hands on my hips, he pulled me toward him, pressing my body against his, cock to stomach, lips crushing mine, tongue slipping into my mouth. Devouring me. Making me moan.
I couldn’t stop it even if I wanted to. Not that I wanted to. Wyatt’s body against mine, his cock nudging me, hands sliding up my waist to cup my breasts, pulled away by a fraction so he could pinch my hard nipples, which ached and ached for his touch.
“You are mine, Kali.”
Those words again. Like he meant them. I ran my fingers through his wet hair, down his back, scratching with my nails as I did, knowing I was leaving a track. I gripped his ass and pushed against him, forcing him to move, encouraging his knees to bend as I bent mine.
And then we were going down, down to the tile that was warm from the hot water, slick but clean. He landed on his ass with a grunt, crossed his legs underneath my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist. We fit together like this, a pretzel of limbs, my pussy slipping onto his cock like it had a mind of its own.
Rocking, sliding, stroking, bodies touching in every way. Making love, rather than fucking, for the first time in forever on the floor of a bathroom. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
We didn’t stop kissing, didn’t stop teasing. He moved his fingers from my ass to my breasts, squeezing them in his palms, flicking my nipples until I groaned. He pinched and pulled, then slid his hands back to my ass, helping me pump deeper, harder.
His cock filled me up, stretched me out, hit all the right places. My clit abraded against his shaft with each stroke and it felt so good. With an orgasm cresting, I tiled my head back, water hit my face and I laughed.
This was what love felt like? I didn’t know. Not really. My heart had been dead for so long.
It built and built, my climax mounting, Wyatt’s hands on my tits again, moving his thumbs over my nipples. I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out on a gasping moan when my orgasm clenched my pussy tight, milking him for his come, taking him with me over the edge until we were both crying out.
It didn’t matter how many times we did this. Or how long we’d been apart. Wyatt and I fit together. Maybe he was right. Maybe we were soul mates.
* * * * *
“Will you come with me to deliver the message to my clients?”
“Like I have a choice.” He sighed against my hair, his body curled around mine on the small cot. It was laughable, the two of us on the bed. It would barely fit just him. “You go, I go.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
My heart felt weird. Wary but full. Bursting. I didn’t like it. It was a dangerous feeling. Now that the euphoria of my climax had subsided, reality was sinking in. He’d hurt me before.
He’d destroyed me before.
“And then we head back to the Academy. Whatever it takes, we need to get back home.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “Yes.” I knew that was what had to happen. We needed to be among our people. Strength in numbers to support the humans. It meant my choice had been made. Billy would have to understand.
I guess there comes a point in everyone’s life where they have to rip someone’s heart out.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We slept the rest of the night. At least it felt like we did.
I cracked my eyes open to see that the door to the barracks had been left ajar, a stream of low dose hall light coming far enough into the room that I could make out my surroundings fairly well. No disorientation for me. Still at headquarters, on a cot, with Wyatt holding me like I was his.
A warm shiver rushed through me, my heart twittered. It twittered. Seriously. Like a teenager.
I shook my head, smiled a little. This was foolishness, to get so caught up in him again. But when was love sane?
I reached up and flicked on the bedside light, casting brighter rays through our part of the large room. There was a bulk on the bed across from me. A duffle bag.
Shit.
I pushed Wyatt’s arms away, struggling angrily when he fought my release, nearly shoving him off the bed in my haste to get to that bag.
“What the hell?” he cursed, forced to let me go or risk falling to the concrete floor.
I moved to the other bed, gulped, then snatched up the lined piece of paper.
Was never great at goodbyes. Billy.
I felt the tears coming, shoved them back. Hard. I pulled the zipper open, the bag revealing its contents immediately. Power pulsed, a signature I recognized. The grimoire.
Yours. Another note said.
I lifted the book out and found a smaller purse, a little bag with a drawstring. Inside was a wad of cash, a new hunter license and another note.
Wasn’t sure if you’d need this money. Better safe though. Figured you’d lost your Hunter license, use it if you get into trouble. The Unions will give you safe haven on your way back home.
He’d come. He’d seen us. He’d left. That was so not Billy. No goodbye. No hug. Gone. It left me feeling cold all of a sudden. Like he’d deserted me. Which was so stupid since I’d been planning on deserting him.
“Everything okay?” Wyatt shoved his legs into his new army pants.
“Yeah,” I breathed the word out. “Just a parting gift.”
“Get dressed.” Wyatt nodded to the door. “I’ll go hunt down some food, then we’ll get going. No sense in hanging around here any longer than we have to.”
I will admit, the second Wyatt was gone I did cry a little. More because I didn’t really believe Billy would make it through this war alive. He was too passionate about saving humans, too reckless with his heroism. I cried while I said goodbye. Thought about leaving a note of my own. Didn’t really know what to say. So I held an image of him in my mind for a bit, shed some tears and gave myself the time to wallow.
I dressed in borrowed clothes. Army issue style black fatigues and a matching black tank. I even found a jacket and bad ass steel toed boots that fit me perfectly. At least I looked like I was ready for war. With a sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair and tied it up. My future was uncertain as was everyone else’s but at least I knew I had people who gave a shit whether I made it out alive.
It was the smell of bacon and eggs that had me moving down the semi-dark hall faster than was probably wise, since I was carrying a big bulky duffle bag, and navigating halls I didn’t know well. I was starving and someone was teasing my taste buds with a delicious scent.
I heard Wyatt’s voice, a booming laugh. Odd. I came around the corner and it suddenly made sense.
“Drake!”
The strange little witch was at the stove, both hands occupied by skillets, one manning
the bacon, the other scrambling an egg.
He glanced up at me. “Ah, Kali, you’re here.”
I nodded, my gaze on Wyatt’s plate. He was sitting on a stool, shoveling food into his mouth like a pig.
“I guess you took Billy up on his offer for protection, huh?” I asked, looking back at Drake.
“Yep, I’m no fool.” He turned from the stove with one skillet in his hand, shoving a plate toward me and motioning for me to sit.
“Is Billy okay with you using up fuel for this meal?”
I didn’t know why I cared. We’d be leaving soon. The Union wasn’t my union any more. In fact, Clive and Sam had most likely gone with Billy, without even saying goodbye. They could have woken me up.
I felt rejected and I knew it was irrational. We were in a war for fuck’s sake. But still, I was bitter.
“Told me to cook for you two when you got up. Send you off with full bellies.” He dumped some bacon onto my plate, then turned back to grab the skillet of eggs and heaped them on too. “Also wanted me to tell you to take what you needed from the armory.”
“That’s very generous of him,” I mumbled, then I forked a load of eggs, suddenly feeling a little less hungry.
“Well, he is in love with you.” Drake topped Wyatt’s mug of coffee up, then filled one for me too.
I sputtered. “Wh-h-hat?” Choking on any more words.
“Like you didn’t know,” Drake teased.
I shifted my gaze to Wyatt, he’d laid his fork down on the plate, his jaw tight as he forcefully chewed.
Drake caught my reaction, cringed slightly. “Hmmm. Well, in any case, the weapons are there for you. I trust you got the bag he packed?”
I nodded, then nudged the duffle bag with my foot.
“He let me look at it, your grimoire. It’s got some powerful spells in there.”
I glanced at the bag, feeling the sudden urge to snatch it up and clench it to my chest. Mine.
“I’m glad you have it.” He reached over and touched the boon mark on my wrist.
I flinched away, pulling my hand back, snapping my eyes up to his.
“It will be useful for you and perhaps me, later.”
I narrowed my eyes. The guy gave me the willies. Too cryptic for my liking. Especially since I owed him something.
“Killing that hybrid didn’t stop the war or the vampires.” Wyatt picked up a piece of bacon. “You told Kali that Ivana was the master. It’s been my experience that killing a master sent the nest into disorder. There was chaos on that beach last night but no disorder. They knew exactly what they were doing.”
Drake’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, that is something isn’t it?” He stroked his chin, then lifted his cup to take a sip of his coffee.
“Kill the master, kill the hive, right? That’s what usually happens. Unless you’re a vampire, then you take control.” I hadn’t thought much about it other than the fact that killing Ivana hadn’t stopped the war from starting, but Wyatt was right—those vampires on the beach should have been easier to kill. Not hunting, and lost without their leader.
“Maybe Ivana didn’t take the power when she killed the master,” Drake said with a shrug. “Maybe it was a proxy kill.”
“Huh?”
Drake smiled indulgently at me. “A proxy kill, dear. Ivana may have killed the master on behalf of someone else. The power in that case would transfer to the other, not to her.”
“That can happen?” I asked.
We knew nothing, I realized. Truly. It was like fumbling in the dark. This war had come out of nowhere even with the prediction from my mother. There was no way we would have ever been prepared.
“Yes, with a spell. A very powerful spell.” He glanced down like he was looking at my bag and I felt the urge again to cradle the grimoire. He wanted it.
“So Ivana has only ever been a pawn?” I nudged the bag closer with my foot, bringing it to the front of my legs so it rested between me and the counter.
“Not a pawn, more like a bishop or knight, perhaps. She was a powerful player and killing her would most definitely have impacted the structure of the hierarchy. Whoever is in charge must now find another witch to turn, one as ruthless and as powerful as Ivana.”
I scoffed. “Well, there are plenty of witches out there with a predilection toward evil. Especially now.” I thought about that swarm of supernaturals out there, violent, malevolent, ready for blood, death, war. “I’m sure there are many who would want to be hybrids.”
“Perhaps,” Drake said with another shrug. “I wouldn’t know.”
“I guess there’s no way to stop this, then? It’s a done deal. The Dark War,” I mused, bitter again.
“Time travel.” Drake took another sip of his coffee.
I snorted my next forkful of eggs, literally blew them on Drake. “What?”
He smiled, then pulled a cloth from the stove rack and wiped his face. “There’s always time travel. You know, go back, make some changes. It would help if we knew who was running the show.”
“You can’t be serious!”
Time travel was one of those forbidden spells. The kind that was uber-dangerous to wield. Even the most powerful witches knew better. To go back in time and alter things could have impact in unpredictable ways. One small shift of a past event and you could end up destroying the world. Go back in time to stop a murder and you could end up causing your own down the road. It was tricky and so not worth it. Too many threads connected things—you could never alter enough to make it right for everyone.
Wyatt had stiffened up at Drake’s words, fists clenched, eyes hard. It was forbidden for a reason. Even thinking about it gave me the creeps.
“You asked if there was a way to stop it. Time travel seems to be the only way. I wouldn’t suggest it, mind you, but it could stop the war before it even begins.” Drake shrugged, then sipped his coffee again. “It’s in that grimoire, you know.”
“Dump the book,” Wyatt growled. “Spells like that only cause trouble.”
I shook my head, wanting to pick it up, lay it on my lap. It was a powerful book, I knew that, and I felt possessive of it even though I hadn’t known it existed before yesterday.
“It’s coming with us.” I looked from Wyatt to Drake. There was potential in that book. If given enough time, practice, I could learn to be a powerful witch. In a war like this, that seemed like something of a necessity.
“Thanks for the food,” Wyatt said, his voice gruff, angry again.
I sighed. This was going to be a long journey home.
He stood from his stool, nodded at me. “I’m going to get some weapons.”
I watched him walk out, wondering what had set him off this time. Drake patted my wrist again, a finger lingering on the boon mark. I shivered as I turned my head in his direction.
“You keep doing that.” I pulled my hand back, out of reach. “If you want to call in your boon, do it.”
“Oh no,” Drake said with a smile. “Not yet. I do believe we will see each other again at some point, my dear. In fact, I know we will.”
I frowned. “How can you possibly be so sure? The odds are against me, really. Driving cross country during a supernaturally driven war?”
I wanted to laugh, but I swallowed it. Bravado, nothing more. We both knew going out there was stupid as fuck.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Kali. You’re a powerful witch, with or without that grimoire.”
I pushed my stool back, dipped down and retrieved the duffle bag. “A powerful tracker, maybe. Never been great with the spell side of things. Sorry to break it to you.”
“Ah, yes, that’s what I’ve heard.” He raised a hand in silence. “I deal in gossip, rumors, some of it is untrue, some exaggerated, some dead on. You’re a powerful tracker, yes, your name had come up a few times among my regular contacts. I knew wh
o you were before Billy ever came knocking. Lazy with the spells, untapped power, all that. Don’t forget, I’ve been inside your head. I know what’s lying dormant there.”
Creepy little man. He was like a stalker, collecting information on people with or without their consent. I shuddered involuntarily, remembering his visit in my memories. Who knew how many people he’d done that to?
“You’re walking away from a good man,” Drake said softly.
The change of subject didn’t startle me. I knew we’d be headed there eventually. “I know.” I wasn’t going to argue, Billy was a good man, just not for me.
“Wyatt is…” Drake lifted a hand. “Complicated.”
“Yes.”
“What I wouldn’t give to get inside his thoughts.” Drake smiled. “But I fear if I tried, he’d rip my arm from the socket.”
“He would.” And worse. But I couldn’t blame Drake for the curiosity. I’d give up a lot to get inside that man’s head. Had uttered those very same words a million times over. “Speaking of Wyatt, I’d better get going.”
“This war isn’t going to be pretty.” Drake stood, began to gather the dishes. “Whoever is in charge…”
“A woman. That’s what my mom said anyway.”
“That makes sense doesn’t it? Hell hath no fury…”
“You think this is about love?”
“No, I think this is about revenge.” He shrugged. “But again, I just hear rumors and make assumptions. It’s like a giant puzzle, sometimes you have to flip the pieces around to get the right fit. Like you, I had my money on Ivana, rumors of a powerful hybrid running the show.”
“Another hybrid?” I sighed. This just got better and better.
“I’d imagine that there are a few of them, my dear. Probably have been for quite a while. Supercreatures. A new breed.”
It made sense. For a power hungry individual, the hybrid route gave you everything you could want. If you could control the addiction to witch’s blood, if that was even possible, then you were definitely a force with an advantage over all of the other species.
The Dark War: The Dark War, Book 1 Page 19