by Hazel Hunter
After a long moment, he rolled them to their sides, and Nicolette found herself pressed to his chest. It was as if a soft spell had settled over both of them. There was a peace here that was too rare and too wonderful to be broken by simple words, and they let it stretch between them, delicate as a cobweb.
Finally, Sebastian rolled away and dealt with the condom, and Nicolette sat up, wrapping her arms around her body. Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
“You look nervous. What's wrong?”
“I don't know what comes next,” she confessed. “I…I mean, that was, that was amazing, but I don't do this often. I don't do this at all, and I don't know what comes next.”
When the tide of pleasure receded, it left her feeling strangely lost and bereft. She didn't know what she needed to hear or feel, but it seemed that in this way, Sebastian was far ahead of her. He swept her into his arms, and though she was tense at first, she relaxed against his comforting bulk as he stroked her hair.
“What comes next is this,” he said softly. “This is just you and me underneath the summer sky. We can touch each other and be silent. We can hold each other. We can talk about whatever you like. We can go search for a shower, or we can simply start all over again.”
“All over again?” she wondered, and he laughed, a slightly ragged edge to it.
“Well, I'd need a little more time, but yes, we could, if you wished.”
Nicolette shivered at the promise in his voice, and she squirmed at the idea of having more of him. She wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him back down to the blanket with her. Tomorrow could take care of itself, and right now, his mouth was soft and warm, as perfect as if it were made solely for kissing her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Morning came too early, but Sebastian was unsurprised. It always came too early, and after a stolen day, duty came calling even more loudly. It wasn't quite dawn yet, but there was a pearly gray quality to the light. They had drawn one of the light blankets over themselves to keep off the dew, and he slipped out from underneath it carefully to avoid waking her.
Though he was silent, her forehead creased with dismay, and she whimpered. She calmed when he kissed her forehead, and then she turned over into a deeper sleep.
She would be a credit to her coven, Sebastian reflected. Today would come the hard part of convincing her that she would be better off with her own kind. Other Wiccans could tutor her gift, train her and protect her. She had never known the shelter of other witches and warlocks. She didn't yet realize that there was a whole community of people who wanted her, would care for her and love her.
The thought warmed him even as it made his stomach drop. Covens were notoriously closed sometimes, and whichever community she came into might not always welcome the eagle-eye of the Magus Corps on their doorstep, even if all he wanted was the pleasure of their newest member.
Last night had been a beautiful dream, a stolen day, but now it was over. He had his duty to do. He slipped into his clothes and his boots, but he couldn't bear waking her just yet. Instead, he brushed her heavy hair back from her face and watched her sleep. All too soon he would have to wake her up, but that moment could at least be put off for a little longer.
A soft caw made him look up, and he smiled to see Nicolette's pied crow alight on the ground next to them. They were extraordinarily intelligent birds anyway, but he thought he detected something more in Karas, an extra bit of awareness in the bird's eyes, and a nearly uncanny inquisitiveness to the way it gazed at him.
He offered the bird his hand, and after a moment, the crow hopped onto his wrist.
“Decided that I'm to be trusted?” he murmured, and the crow coughed in agreement.
Sebastian decided to take Karas's acceptance as a good sign. He was moving to gently shake Nicolette awake when he felt it. Sebastian's powers with the earth were legendary among the other warlocks of the Magus Corps. In training he could tell the position of people on a field simply by detecting the vibrations. Now, several hundred years past that point, he was even better.
There was someone moving towards them, and that person was heavy and moving fast. He wondered if it was someone from the circus come looking for Nicolette, but then Karas screamed, loud and furiously, and took to the sky with a flurry of wings.
“What–” Nicolette came awake with a start, and Sebastian wished he could take the time to reassure her.
“Get dressed,” he said curtly. “Someone's coming.”
To his relief, she didn't ask him what he meant or how he knew. Instead, she found her clothing and started fumbling it on. She still lacked sandals when the man came thundering towards them, leaping the stone wall that had sheltered them all night like it was nothing, and brandishing what looked like a German greatsword in his hands.
Sebastian barely dodged the first heavy swing. If he had been slower, it would easily have taken off his head. The use of the sword, and the man's skill with it were all that Sebastian needed to know, and he snarled out loud.
“Templar,” he seethed.
There was no word as foul in his world. This was a man who made it his crusade to hunt down people for nothing but their born gifts. This was a man who had killed people Sebastian called his friends.
Some warlocks traveled with guns and knives, but Sebastian had never troubled to do so when his skill with the earth was so great. With a single gesture, the ground underneath the man's foot broke, sinking down by a foot. It was enough to unseat the man's balance, and that was enough time for Sebastian to get within the sword's range and stand body to body with his attacker.
“Clumsy and sloppy,” he snarled, dealing the man's wrist a fierce blow with his fist.
In a normal man, it might have shattered the bone, but the Templar wore armor underneath his plain clothing. It knocked the blade out of his hand however, and Sebastian grinned ferociously.
“You aren't going to be worth the trouble it takes to bury you,” he spat, and that was when Nicolette shouted out a warning.
He looked up just in time to see the man raise his other hand holding a dagger. Sebastian was too slow. The man was too close. The blade would land. But then a vicious shriek split the air, and Nicolette was there. Still barefoot, she sprinted across the space between them, grabbing at the man's arm and pulling it away.
The Templar sprang away from them both, leaving Sebastian and Nicolette off balance. In moments, the man was gone, sprinting over the field.
In any other instance, Sebastian would have been up and after him like a shot. He had hunted Templars for centuries. He knew that once they started coming, they would never stop. The only thing that stopped him from giving chase was Nicolette. She knelt on the ground, breathing hard and gazing after the man who had fled, her eyes wide and glassy with panic. When he touched her shoulder, she exploded with motion, pushing him away and nearly tumbling back into the tall grass. With her hair disheveled and her long white legs sprawled out, she looked like some wild forest creature. He reached for her again, and she scrambled away.
“Nicolette?”
The woman who lay so soft and wanting and loving underneath him the previous night was gone, and in her place was someone who gazed at him with nothing but hate.
“Warlock,” she said through clenched teeth.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The man had attacked them with a sword, and even as she stared at the silver arc it described in the pre-dawn light, she remembered that it was called a zwiehander, an enormous German sword from the 1500s. For a long and horrible moment, she watched it descend on Sebastian, coldly certain that the man was after her. But then Sebastian made the ground shake.
What happened after that was more about instinct than skill. Nicolette thought furiously that if she had had those moments to live over again, she might have spun away and ran, leaving both of the large men to their battle. Instead, she had lunged into the fight to protect Sebastian, and now she was left staring at him, the ashes of betrayal hot in her belly.
“When were you going to tell me?” she spat. “When were you going to tell me that you were a warlock?”
Sebastian stared at her with wide eyes, and she could have slapped him.
“Today,” he said.
Though there was no deceit in his face, she had known too many liars to really credit his innocence.
“Today, I swear to you, Nicolette, I was going to tell you today. I wouldn't keep something like this from you. You need to know who you are.”
She snorted, drawing back from him. Her arms were wrapped around her torso, and when he looked as if he might approach, she glared until he halted.
“I know who I am, and I know who you are too. You're with the Magus Corps, aren't you? The bully boys of the witching world.”
Sebastian drew back as if stung. She could have laughed.
“That's not what we are,” he said, obviously striving for patience. “We protect. We look for witches like you who are lost. We guide you to covens where you will be safe.”
“You take people from their homes. You take them away from everything they know. You place them with–”
Nicolette realized what she was going to say. She snapped her teeth shut around it. That was an old wound, but it was one that could still be ripped open if she wasn't careful. Sebastian was watching her carefully, however, and his eyes were darkening with rage.
“With what?” he asked, and there was something too quiet about his voice, something too calm.
She took another step back, but this time he followed her.
“Forget I said anything,” she tried.
But he shook his head. “You were going to say something, and it sounds like something I need to hear. What do you think the Magus Corps does to the witches we find, Nicolette? What are you implying?”
“Forget it,” she said insistently. “I'm never talking to you again.”
She spun to leave, but his hand was on her wrist. He didn't tighten his grasp, but it was as unbreakable as a steel shackle. He held her still.
“What do you think the Magus Corps does to the witches we find?” he demanded. “Nicolette, I'm a member of the Magus Corps, and I hold the rank of a major. I take my duties very seriously, and I have found many witches just like you and brought them to safety.”
The words just like you echoed in Nicolette's ears. The color rose up her cheeks.
“Just like me?” she asked hollowly. “Did you tumble them in an open field too?”
At least he had the grace to look shocked.
“No, gods no, Nicolette! No, this was…this was special, this was something different. I've never done anything like this before.”
He looked off-balance, and it was enough to make him loosen his grip on her wrist. She couldn't break away yet, but she kept herself balanced to flee if the opportunity arose.
“What happened to those other girls?” she whispered.
“I protected them,” Sebastian said. “I found them a place with covens, either nearby or far away, depending on what they needed at the time.”
Nicolette flinched. Bad enough to be placed with one person, what would she have done with a group?
“What they needed at the time,” she said hollowly. “I didn't need any of that.”
Sebastian's expression grew darker still.
“Nicolette, tell me what happened to you. I'm with the Corps, and you are a witch. You owe me an answer.”
Nicolette felt the panic rise up from the base of her throat, and she fought to keep it down.
She had gone soft, she could see it now. A year ago, simply running into someone like Sebastian would have sent her scuttling for the next opportunity, the next scam, the next identity. Somehow, he had gotten under her skin, and he had proven to be as dangerous and as terrifying as anything else.
“I was initiated when I was nineteen,” she said softly. “I was found almost six months after that. I had begun to see these beautiful colors. To see them hovering around the heads of everyone around me, to see how they matched what the person was feeling, even if they didn't show a hint of it on their faces.”
“You're an aura reader,” Sebastian said with surprise. “That's a rare talent. I'm not sure the Corps has seen someone strong in that skill for decades.”
“That's what he told me,” Nicolette said evenly. “He told me that it was the sign of a great witch, someone who could change the course of the world's path.”
“What else did he tell you?”
Nicolette's laugh was short and humorless.
“He told me I was going to obey him. He told me that from that time moving forward, he was everything to me, my mother, my father, my teacher, my everything. He told me that he was going to protect me. He was going to make sure that the Templars never found me.” Nicolette took a deep breath. “The man who found me put me with this person. He kept me for almost seven months and, in that time, he broke two ribs. To this very day, I still get tingles and numb spots along the leg that he sprained. That's what the Corps did for me, Sebastian, and you're one of them.”
“Who did this to you?”
Sebastian's voice was flat and dead, and it frightened her even more. There was something incredibly forbidding about him now. There was no hint of the man who had tended so sweetly to her pleasure the night before. This man was a stranger. This man meant her nothing good, and her heart started to beat faster.
“Does it matter?” she found herself whispering.
Sebastian scowled.
“Of course it does. He should never have laid a hand on you, ever. You have rights, gods, Nicolette, all I want to do is protect you.”
His voice was raised, and instinctively, Nicolette raised an arm to ward off a blow that she was sure was going to come. It was just too familiar. He was a warlock, he was angry, and she was going to suffer.
He let go of her so suddenly that she stumbled. She looked at him with wide eyes.
“You think I'm going to hit you,” he said, his voice laced with shock. “You're afraid that I'm going to hurt you.”
Some part of her cried out that she didn't believe that at all, but the rest of her, the parts that had come through fire and terror to emerge as something strong and unbroken, refused to let her say that.
“Why shouldn't I believe that?”
The words dropped from her lips like chips of ice, and she saw Sebastian flinch as if they were body blows. The color drained from his face and he shook his head.
“Nicolette, I would never. I would never, ever hurt you, I…”
“Then let me go,” she challenged him. “Show me that you're better than Vacek and that you will let me go.”
He stood as still as a statue. Nicolette slowly let out the breath that she hadn't been aware that she was holding. She took a step back, and then another one.
“Nicolette…”
She waited, but there was nothing else. She turned and walked away.
She could feel his eyes on her as she crossed the field, but there were no footsteps and there were no hands grabbing at her.
The air rustled, and with a flutter of wings, Karas landed on her shoulder. He plucked at her hair gently, and she reached up to calm him.
Tomorrow had come, and it was time to get back to her real life.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sun was coming up. It was going to be another beautiful summer day, but Sebastian couldn't feel it. He wasn't sure that he was going to feel anything again, though surely that was wrong. In the space of twenty minutes, he had suffered…what? A loss? He had fought a Templar and lost someone that made him feel whole inside. He ran his hands through his thick black hair, wondering when it had all gone wrong. The day he had spent with Nicolette felt more real to him than this did. In some ways, it felt more real to him than the long years before her had.
He took a deep breath and stood up, pacing back and forth along the length of the wall.
In many ways, nothing had changed. She was still a rogue witch. Now he knew that she was a r
ogue witch with a very rare power. Aura readers could detect the truth in charged situations. They could learn from an enemy and put it to good use. It didn't surprise him that she had been placed with an individual tutor rather than a coven, but what came up when he recalled her situation was a cold and icy rage. He pulled out his phone, and it only rang once before it was picked up.
“Stephan, I need some information.”
“What do you need, Sebastian? Can't be sleep because my watch tells me its not even seven out there where you are.”
Sebastian ignored Stephan's jibe.
“Do we have any information on a warlock named Vacek? Especially one who's trained witches or warlocks in the past few years.”
Stephan's response was quick and foreboding.
“Oh that asshole. What do you need to know?”
“It sounds like he trained the rogue that I'm after. We had a talk, and he's the reason she's resistant to being brought in.”
“Don't blame her. Looks like this guy was operating out in the Pacific Northwest, member in good standing, and all that. He's trained up some people who went on to do just fine, but about a year ago, a witch separated from him, went rogue, joined a coven in Alabama, and then started telling people about the shit that he did.”
“What did he do?”
“From the sound of it, beat the hell out of her and did it all in the name of 'real training.' Some people came out and said that that was bullshit, he'd never laid a hand on them, but when all of the people saying that were warlocks, not witches, well…”
Sebastian gritted his teeth. He had to force his hands to relax out of fists. When he spoke again, it was with a carefully modulated tone.
“And what happened to Vacek?”
This time, Stephan's laugh was a lot more genuine.
“Died not long after this all came up. Throat slit. Believe me when I say that there were not a lot of mourners, you know?”
Sebastian felt himself relax by inches.
“Good,” he said. “Now tell me what we have on known Templars in the area.”