by Stormie Kent
“Is it him?”
“Yes. The scent trail leads into the house.”
Had he hurt her parents? “If he’s been watching for us, he knows we’re here.”
“Maybe.”
Nic dragged her back so their bodies were hidden behind the SUV. He brought out his phone and called Jake. She listened while he instructed him to call the Watch and get a group of shifter soldiers to her parents’ address. She looked at the windows. No one seemed to be peering out at them.
Nic disconnected the call, then retrieved his gun from the locked container under the seat. “Dial your parents.”
She tried the house number, her father’s cell, and her mother’s cell, but was connected to voice mail each time.
Leila gripped the phone tightly. “Could we get closer? Maybe look through a window? I need to know they aren’t hurt. Maybe they don’t know what he is, and they’re simply sitting there drinking tea. I have a spare key.”
“I’ll get closer. You stay here.”
Before she could protest, Nic was gone, making his way from the front windows around to the side of the house where she could no longer see him. She strained to see in the dark, waiting for him to return to her side. A car door slammed in the distance and a dog barked. But her mate didn’t come back.
She had no idea what to do. Her parents could be in danger, her mate could be in danger, and she was huddled behind a parked vehicle. Acid boiled in her stomach.
Red light illuminated the backyard and was gone. Holding her breath, she watched. The light appeared again and again, becoming more erratic. She stayed low as she rounded the vehicle and ran toward the backyard. The red flashes had to be mage fire. She’d never seen red mage fire; hers was blue. But it was clear someone was in trouble, and Nic was in the midst of it.
She slowed as she came to the back corner of the house. A crash, like the sound of wood shattering, brought her to a halt. Heart in her throat, she edged closer and glanced around the corner into the yard. Nic was nowhere to be seen, but her father’s bamboo-bordered herb garden was in shambles.
A tall man stood on the deck. She couldn’t fully make out his features, only that he was pale and thin. From where he stood, she knew there were French doors behind him. He turned away from her and sent more mage fire into the deep shadows of the tree-lined yard. She could only assume he was aiming for Nic.
Where were her parents? If Zuria and Aton were able, they would be taking care of the sorcerer, not huddling inside while he burned down their backyard. Were they hurt? Out of the house?
What should she do? Use mage fire to try to take the sorcerer down now, or go around and attempt to surprise him by coming through the front or the kitchen? She pulled power to her, feeling the tingles all along her palm and fingers.
The sorcerer released another bolt of mage fire, and an animal yelp pierced the air. He’d hit Nic. How dare he touch her mate? How dare he harm him? She only had one thought. Eliminate the threat to her mate.
Leila flung her hand at the sorcerer, aiming for his torso. It missed its mark as he turned, catching him in the upper arm. He cried out, and she didn’t wait but tossed another. It appeared to graze his belly. If it had hit him full-on, it would have dropped him immediately. He hunched, and she moved closer to take a better shot at him.
She couldn’t hear Nic, and her mind supplied a picture of him lying wounded or worse in the dark of the yard. The man’s hand came up, and she didn’t move fast enough. Pain seared her side, as if one hundred tiny burning needles had entered her flesh. She staggered a bit and tossed another burst of mage fire at her opponent.
She dodged to the left as more red mage fire careened toward her. Her thigh exploded in pain, and she fought the wavering blackness at the edge of her sight. If she passed out now, she wouldn’t kill this bastard and find Nic.
There was a crash in the house. The man turned and made to go inside, and she threw more mage fire at him. Blurry vision caused her to miss her target. She crouched to the floor of the deck, attempting to catch her breath. He was hurt too, she was satisfied to see. Now it was simply a game of who could outlast the other. The man raised his hand before she was ready to do the same. She called her magic even as she tried to urge her body to move out of the way of his strike.
Growling was the first clue that they weren’t alone. The chilling sound floated through the French doors, heralding the arrival of Nic in partial shift. He picked up the sorcerer by the neck.
“Watch his hands, Nic!” If the sorcerer was pretending to be more injured than he was, he could kill her mate before he could snap his neck.
Nic used one clawed paw to slap the man in the head before releasing his neck to pin his hands behind his back. “Find me something to bind him with.”
Staggering to her feet, she squeezed past them and into the house. She left Nic and the sorcerer in the sunroom and turned on lights once she reached the kitchen. She spared a raised eyebrow for the shattered kitchen door. It must have been how Nic entered the house. There was a small utility box on the floor of the pantry. It had always been there for emergencies. She shuffled through it one-handed, the other tightly clasped to her burned side, before holding up duct tape triumphantly. She rolled the duct tape onto her wrist like a bracelet, grabbed a tablecloth out of one of the custom shelves, and returned to find Nic had brought their captive inside.
Placing the tablecloth on a sofa, she wrapped the man’s hands with duct tape. She used a lot, making sure his fingers were taped together. As soon as she had the man secured, Leila left the room, following her nose until she found her parents sitting at the table in the formal dining room.
She rushed to them where they slumped, facedown, on their place settings. She frantically felt for pulses and tried to wake them. She looked up at Nic where he stood at the door, holding the sorcerer by one arm.
“Thank goodness we didn’t kill him, Nic. I need to know why my parents won’t wake up.” She turned to the sorcerer. “What did you do to them?”
That was when she got a good look at the guy’s face. “Dear One, I know him. His name is…” She paused to think, then snapped her fingers. “Octavius Evans. My mother tried to get me to date him.”
She and Nic looked at each other. “Your mother was prepared to hand you over to a murderer?”
Octavius finally spoke. “She could have been my bride, but then she turned out to be amoral, like my Colette. She was not moderate in her speech or dress, and then she turned to you instead of me. I had to cleanse her of her illness, just as I did for Colette.”
Leila shook her head. “She didn’t know he was crazy, I’m sure.”
Nic pulled apart the tablecloth. “We’ll find a healer for your parents.”
Octavius wasn’t going to tell her anything sane. She took the piece of linen from Nic, stuffed it in Octavius’s mouth, then secured it with another strip. Now all she could do was wait.
Chapter Fourteen
Nic let in the Watch and the group of soldiers Jake brought. Then he stood quietly as Leila promptly sent one of the wizards of the Watch three doors down to collect a healer. Leila’s worry was alive in the space. She checked her parents every few minutes before limping back and forth in the extremely large dining room.
Jake, quickly assessing the situation, had sent half of the shifter soldiers out to cover the perimeter of the home as the other half spread out around the room. At least someone understood safety precautions because Leila did not. He’d wanted to yell at her for not staying with the vehicle as he’d asked her to. It irritated him that she had actually provided the distraction he’d needed to subdue the sorcerer.
Winrich stared at the sorcerer Nic had tied to a dining room chair. “He’ll have to be bound.”
“Your newly formed laws don’t change pack justice.” The rogue wizard had harmed his mate. He was a dead man.
“Those aren’t my orders.”
“If the Council wanted control over the outcome, they shouldn’t have allowed it to aff
ect the pack.”
Leila stepped between them. “Don’t strip his power yet. We might need him. Can you place him in a binding circle where he can’t use his magic?”
Winrich nodded before he and his team began to work. Nic watched the men and women crawl on the floor with chalk they’d pulled from pouches at their waists. Symbols began to take shape on the floor immediately, surrounding the bound and gagged man. Before fully closing the circle of symbols, one of the witches removed the sorcerer’s gag.
Leila walked to Nic, and he immediately wrapped her in his arms, making sure to avoid her newest wounds. She was stressed out and injured, so he held her as she needed him to, even as he kept an eye on all the mages in the room.
The healer arrived. The healer ran his hands over Leila’s parents, leaving about three inches of air between his hands and their bodies. He lifted their heads and opened their closed lids before inspecting their eyes.
“It is a simple sleeping spell that I can counteract with a waking potion. They’ll be groggy but otherwise unhurt.”
“You won’t need the sorcerer for anything else?” Nic gently unwound his mate’s arm from around his waist.
The healer shook his head. “No.”
Before any of the mages could attempt to stop Nic, he stepped inside the circle with Octavius and snapped the man’s neck. He would allow no threat to his mate. He couldn’t trust these mages to appropriately deal with the situation.
He turned to the healer. “You may proceed. When you finish with Leila’s parents, you may attend to my mate.”
* * * *
Nic held his mate’s hand all the way home. When Leila’s parents had awakened, her father had been the only one of the two to hug her when he discovered the true identity of the man they thought of as Octavius Evans. Even though she didn’t show it, he knew her mother’s rejection hurt her. He’d promptly put her to bed once they’d gotten home and held her until she fell asleep.
The next morning she’d attempted to convince him to make love to her. He’d barely escaped to the precinct with his self-respect. Leila could be very persuasive when she wanted something. His concern for her welfare had overridden the needs of his body. She’d been attacked by a wolf twice her size and burned with mage fire. Rage had exploded in him, and he’d fought it back. He’d be damned if he would have sex with her before she fully healed.
When he’d told her that, she’d thrown a lamp at his head.
It was full dark when he returned home. He followed the newest scent trail for his mate into the kitchen, absently noting the smell of steak and potatoes. He’d been worried about her all day.
He turned into the kitchen to find her setting the table. He closed his eyes and opened them again. She was still dressed the same way, in a black, spaghetti-strap, micromini fishnet dress. He could clearly see she had on absolutely nothing underneath but a tiny pair of black satin bikini panties and her lickable dusky skin. Matching black fishnet fingerless gloves covered her palms and arms to the elbows.
Her hair fell in soft waves around her face, and she looked up at him and smiled. He looked her body over again as she stepped away from the table, from the plum gloss on her lips down to the black strappy sandals on her feet with the impossibly high clear soles and heels. Stripper pumps.
On his third visual sweep of her outfit, he got caught on the delightful jiggle of her breasts as she casually leaned against the counter.
She smiled at him. “How was your day?”
He couldn’t remember. His thoughts were focused on his mate.
“Nic.”
He was moving in the next second. He had to get his hands on her. Mouth quirked in a smirk, she watched him come. He was stopped by the hand she laid against his chest when he was an arm’s length away.
“I’m sorry. My mate says I have to heal first.” Voice teasing but firm, she waited.
Nic struggled with himself. He wanted to lay her out on the table and take his dessert first in the cream he could scent between her legs. But she obviously wanted to play, and he really liked to play with his sexy mate. He wrestled with desire, hands clenched to his side. He shook his head to clear it, then pulled back but not away.
“Your mate sounds like he simply cares about your welfare.” And that he might now have to do some groveling.
“He left me needy and wanting for ten hours.” Her wolf was looking out at him now, and his warned him to tread very carefully.
“Leila, baby.” Catching her hand, he crowded her against the counter. “I just want to take care of you.” He brought both of his hands up to cup her face. “I love you and can’t bear to see you hurt. To know that I would be selfish in the face of your pain would damage me.”
She stared into his eyes. He opened himself to her searching gaze. He loved her, cherished her, as well as desired her. Her welfare would always matter and be counted above his.
One of her hands slid onto his waist. “You have to trust me. I won’t harm myself intentionally.”
“I do trust you. I see your intelligence and your strength. How can I make it up to you?”
Both her arms slid around his waist. “If this outfit isn’t giving you any ideas, I need to get my money back.”
He kissed her, diving headfirst into a kiss that quickly spiraled out of control. He burned, spurred on by the swirl of her tongue and soft lips against his. The scent of her arousal pulled a growl from deep in his chest. When she rubbed her body against his, he knew he had to get her to the bed as soon as possible. He had plans for her, and he needed room to work.
He turned the oven off and coaxed her up the stairs with whispered promises of all the ways and places he wanted to lick her. He followed her into the bedroom, so close behind he could feel the heat from her body through his clothes. Hand splayed over her belly, he walked her toward the mirror.
Low music already played throughout the room. What really held his attention was her image in the mirror. The sepia tone of her skin contrasted beautifully against the bright white of his shirt. Impatient to feel her skin and the material of her sexy-ass dress against his body, he quickly ripped his shirt off and tossed it away.
He kissed and nibbled along her throat. She tilted her head to the side to give him better access even as she raised her hands to clasp the back of his head. She painted a wanton picture in the mirror—breasts thrust forward, eyes heavy-lidded, and soft lips slightly parted.
He couldn’t resist cupping her luscious breasts. He concentrated on her dark brown nipples just as he knew she liked. He stared as she moved sensuously, following the sultry beat of the music. Hips and torso winding, she lowered herself until her closed legs bent enough for her to slide down his body. She did the same motion in reverse, arms still raised to the back of his head and chest. He didn’t release her breasts as she ground her ass against his pants-covered cock.
He watched her dance against him in the mirror. Her movements became more and more seductive, and he enjoyed every bump and grind of her beautiful form against his. She turned to face him and began unbuckling his pants. He wanted to say he had the patience to allow her to undress him, but he didn’t. So he took over the task even as he watched her glide her hands all over her curves.
He pushed the pants down and stepped out of them. “You are so sexy, mate.”
Her sultry smile felt like a caress to his throbbing cock. Clutching her closer, he began to dance with her, running his hands from her shoulders down to her ass. He kissed his way from her ear down to her shoulder. Her sighs and moans skated along his spine with the same pleasure as butterfly kisses. She ran her nails along his side as she all but fucked him with the grind of her hips.
His pretty mate liked to dance.
He walked backward toward the bed and tumbled them onto the mattress. She laughed, and he kissed her to capture the joy of it inside him. He nipped at her lips and guided them farther up on the bed.
“Leave the shoes on.” He couldn’t control the command in his voice.
LEILA SMILED AT his tone. He didn’t notice as all his concentration seemed to be devoted to sucking her nipples through the fishnet chemise. Grabbing handfuls of his hair, she raised her breasts to his wet mouth. Each suctioning pull on her nipple caused a spasm in her pussy. She widened her legs, pressing the heels of her shoes into the sheets.
Nic’s hand slid from her knee up to her core. His fingers teased the edge of her panties.
“A little to your right.” She sounded breathless.
She felt the curve of his mouth as he smiled against her breast. “A bit demanding, aren’t we, mate? If you weren’t wearing panties, I’d be touching flesh right now.” His fingers lightly traced the gusset of the black panties.
“I only wore them because I thought you might like to rip them off.”
The panties were gone before she finished the statement. The shock of it forced more cream from her pussy. She thrust against his fingers as they lightly traced along her slit.
“Harder, Nic.”
His touch deepened, but not by much.
“If your fingers don’t know what to do, maybe your mouth will have better luck.” She pushed his head down toward her pussy.
To her surprise and delight, he complied, settling on his stomach between her legs. He draped both her legs over his shoulders and then slowly licked her from the bottom of her slit to her clit. Her entire lower body tensed in anticipation. And then he delivered. He fucked her with his mouth and tongue as her body quaked around him.
He did this to her every time, pulled her into a place where she would beg if she had to. Except he took care of her as her mind glossed over in ecstasy.
“You are so damn good at this. I love your lips, your tongue, and especially those damn fangs.”
Sharp, delicious pain flowed through her as those fangs tugged the sensitive flesh of her pussy lips. She exploded, screaming his name and begging him not to stop. He petted her gently until she had real thoughts and then started all over again. Twice more he pushed her, and twice more she tumbled into a climax so intense her limbs shook uncontrollably and lights exploded behind her eyes.