His Witch To Keep (Keepers of the Veil)

by Zoe Forward

  Wanting her was one thing. Keeping her was another…

  Serenity Danssaert was already in way over her head. Not even her MI6 training or her powers as one of the seven Pleiades witches is going to save her sister. Then Alexi Jovec shows up. A secret operative working for unknown forces, he’s impossibly sexy and dangerous…and the guy who bailed on Serenity after a red-hot, racy night.

  So bonding to him as her destined—the One—is so very wrong.

  While Alexi’s need to own Serenity—body, soul, and beyond—is nearly unbearable, it’s also forbidden. He’s the last man who could ever be her destined. Besides, Hades’s right-hand man cannot bond with a chosen Pleiades witch. He may be the one man who can protect her, but she can never be his to keep.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Terms

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover the Keepers of the Veil series… Protecting His Witch

  Discover more paranormal romance titles from Entangled… His Wicked Desire

  Under His Skin

  The Alpha’s Temporary Mate

  Suddenly Beautiful

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Zoe Forward. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Covet is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Allison Collins and Candace Havens

  Cover design by Louisa Maggio

  Cover art from iStock

  ISBN 978-1-63375-461-4

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition November 2015

  For E, who became little Z’s best friend. You forever own a place in our hearts.

  Terms

  Alternate dimension/dimension hop: Each of the seven Pleiades witches possesses the magical ability to travel to a unique alternate dimension where the year is the same but everything is slightly different. Origin of the dimensions: long ago, at the pleading of the Pleiades’ father, Atlas, Zeus created an alternate dimension for each of the original Pleiades goddesses to disappear into in order to avoid the unwanted advances of Orion. The ability was then passed on to the eldest female human descendant of each Pleiad.

  Death reaper: Human descendant of the underworld god, Hades. Required to shuttle evil human souls to hell at the command of Hades.

  Keepers of the Veil: The seven Pleiades witches are the keepers of the veil, or gate, which stands between our world and the afterlife world of their ancestors. The seven must convene at a Confirmation on the last night of Samhain every twenty years to assure the ancestors all is well. If any of the seven miss, the ancestors will cross into our world in anger. Then chaos will ensue.

  Order Lutomaleficum (OLM): Extremist Christian religious sect dedicated to hunting and eliminating humans with supernatural powers, especially Pleiades witches.

  Pleiades (plē-ə-dēz): The seven Greek goddess daughters of Atlas and the sea nymph Pleione, known as Sterope, Calaeno, Electra, Maia, Merope, Taygete, and Alcyone.

  Pleiades witch: The eldest human female descendant of one of the seven Pleiades Greek goddesses. Each possesses a unique preternatural power and the ability to hop to an alternate dimension.

  Sentry druid: Celtic druid capable of a distinctive supernatural ability. Sworn to protect the Pleiades witches. The Greek gods often choose a mate for the Pleiades witches from the ranks of the Sentry druids.

  Chapter One

  This mission needed a special forces unit. Balls, brains, and firepower. Not her. Alone.

  Serenity Danssaert crept along the edge of the Boston warehouse and ducked behind a pallet of plastic-wrapped boxed goods. Thirty or more heavily armed Hispanics argued over the purchase price of a rocket-propelled grenade fifty feet away.

  Tangling with cartel ranked high on her avoid list. If she had a choice, she’d abort, yet she had to get the cartel leader’s laptop tonight or her sister would be killed.

  What she wouldn’t give to be able to cast a good spell or do a magical finger snap to resolve this mess. Why be labeled a witch if she couldn’t perform basic fictional witchy skills? She had gifts, as one of the seven chosen descendants of the Pleiades goddesses, but invisibility, while useful to penetrate the perimeter, wouldn’t guarantee a positive outcome tonight.

  The shouting escalated. Her body tensed to sprint when the bullet showdown commenced.

  An arm banded around her midsection and a hand clamped tight over her mouth.

  “Don’t move,” ordered a gritty male voice.

  She’d been invisible. How the hell had she been caught?

  Anger and fear rippled through her when he dragged her deeper into the shadows. She prepared to head butt backward, but her brain recognized the eastern European accent. Anger dissolved into relief, followed swiftly by irritation. Her body cataloged the powerful contours pressed tight to her back.

  He didn’t try to disarm her. She didn’t disrespect him by struggling and dropped her invisibility.

  With a spin, he pressed her against the wall, maintaining an arm across her shoulders. His hand moved off her mouth. He put one finger against his lips.

  Alexi Jovec. His green gaze seemed to glow despite the darkness shrouding them. What was the world’s most elusive assassin, the Shadow, doing here?

  “What is your game tonight?” he asked in a cool tone. That look on his face—dangerous yet volatile—cried out to every one of her senses. In all the years she’d known him, he’d always been in control. No unnecessary movement. Rarely did he demonstrate outward emotion. Except when naked. And, holy mother, did this man look amazing naked.

  “Why are you here?” she asked as an uncomfortable heat spread through her body.

  “That’s my question for you.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, where it settled on the small scar on her upper lip.

  Her breath caught. Sensation tingled across her upper lip as if he’d touched the memento left from her long ago one-time torture session with witch hunters. Did I even mean anything to you? Memory of their one night together kept alive a tight need deep in her body, one she’d do anything to shake. And one she’d never admit to him.

  Hoarsely, she whispered, “Are you stalking me for the witch hunters you now work for? Or have you been contracted by Russia to take me out again?”

  She squirmed against his arm, desperate to put some air between them.

  He leaned in harder. His strong thighs pressed into hers.

  She wished he’d touch her the way his eyes suggested, although if
he did, she’d be a goner. She screamed at herself, No. And say it again: no. This dangerous man had already exceeded her tolerance for humiliation this decade. If she could maneuver a fist free, she’d punch his nose just to hear the gratifying crunch. Then she’d grind his balls until he experienced a fraction of the heart-shattering pain he’d caused her eight months ago, when he’d abandoned her while she slept naked in his hotel room.

  She tensed her leg to kick up, sensing his distraction while he listened to the argument behind him. He pinned her tighter. “I said don’t move.”

  I hadn’t yet. Adrenaline poured into her blood. Her training gave her the tools to escape him easily and inflict major hurt in the process, but discipline and control always flew out the window when she was near him. Her heart raced as her body betrayed its desire for this formidable man. She didn’t know his specific preternatural capabilities. She’d watched him kill with more precision and less emotion than any human. What he did to kill the particularly evil placed him well into the not-just-a-human category.

  “Please tell me what you are doing here, ragana.” The Lithuanian word for witch betrayed his homeland. His gritty inflection of the foreign word turned it into an endearment. “Whatever you seek, you must acquire a different day.”

  He kept her trapped, reminding her of his strength. He nodded toward the escalating cartel argument. “That is about to become a bullet shitstorm.”

  She narrowed her eyes, refusing to answer.

  He shifted, allowing her a measure of freedom, and whispered hoarsely, “Why?” He shook his head and exhaled slowly. “Why are you taking these crazy risks this week? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  His troubled gaze tempted her to spill everything. But she wouldn’t. This was her mess and she’d figure a way out of it. Reliance on another never ended well for her. The person almost always disappointed her or died. She said, “I must get this done now.”

  Concerned wrinkles creased his usually smooth forehead. His dark hair fell over his eyebrows, now longer than she’d ever seen it. It added a bad boy element to his deadly vibe. Between the hair and chiseled facial structure, she thought him model-worthy gorgeous, but the dark aura surrounding him and the death his presence promised overshadowed his beauty. He terrified most humans on a subconscious level. Most never attempted direct eye contact and avoided him. For her, his darkness did the opposite. It fascinated her.

  He gazed deeply into her eyes as if trying to read her soul. “Does someone threaten you? Is that why you breached Belauger’s Canadian compound two days ago?”

  “How do you know about that?” Chills slithered down her neck and dispersed through her arms and legs. He’d stalked her. Did that signal a personal interest in her? Her mind spat out: Really? You’re going to be that pitiful? He’d proved how interested he was when he used then ditched her months ago. Maybe Russia really had ordered he attempt to assassinate her again, although she doubted it. If Alexi intended to kill her, she’d already be dead. He didn’t play with his prey.

  “This…whatever you’re up to, is sloppy.” He traced a finger across her cheek. “I can tell you’re worried. Someone does threaten you. Tell me who.”

  Her body swayed toward him. She bit her lip against the impulse to tell him everything. That this was the second insane mission the faceless bastards pulling her strings had demanded she perform this week based on facts that were more than a few thousand miles off the mark. That they’d set her up for death, or at least major hurt, both times. Tonight she’d been led to expect her target would be alone, or perhaps with one or two bodyguards. All she was supposed to do was create a distraction for a few night guards, grab his computer, and leave. For an ex-MI6 operative it was so simple.

  You don’t trust him. She shook off whatever magic he wove, disgusted by her susceptibility to him. And glared a bitter go to hell.

  Evidence he was just as affected as she by their close proximity in this whacked situation pressed tight to her abdomen. With a mental head shake, she threw off the distraction and struggled.

  Bullets hit the wall above them, causing them both to duck. She twisted out of his distracted grasp. He caught her wrist and spun her face-first into the wall. She needed to go in now. A push against him seeking escape failed.

  He leaned in close to speak into her ear over the gunfire. “Even if you go invisible, bullets can still kill you.”

  Unease permeated her brain at the echo of her own assessment. “Please, Alexi. I’ve got to do this.”

  “This is not worth death.”

  Her sister’s life? Hell yeah, it was.

  “Let. Me. Go.” She struggled for freedom, managing to stomp his left foot, not that it affected him. Damn those steel-toed boots he loved. He grunted when she butt-slammed against his erection, but he didn’t release her.

  She had seconds before the shooting ended and her target left or died.

  Alexi wrapped one arm around her front while keeping the other firmly around her wrists. He spun her and pulled her tight against his hard chest, which wasn’t hard from Kevlar. He was 100 percent sculpted male. Mere millimeters of fabric separated their skin. She wondered if he bench-pressed in his spare time. He zip-tied her wrists behind her back and removed her gun.

  Shock froze her. Fury bubbled from deep in her gut. “I can’t…flash out of here, not with my hands like this.”

  “I don’t want you disappearing again, or shifting away to your alternate dimension, my little hopper, at least not until I retrieve that which you feel is worth your life. Then, you will owe me.” He smiled wolfishly.

  “I’m not asking you to do this. I’m perfectly capable—”

  He clucked, implying she had no say in what happened. She hated that. He asked, “What’s your mark?”

  He had her cornered and he knew it.

  She couldn’t get out of the zip tie fast enough to make it into the fray. She had to bargain with him. “If you do this, what’s your price?”

  “We’ll discuss it later. There’s no time now. What do you seek to acquire?”

  “Colombian cartel leader’s laptop. Name is Munoz.” She gestured toward the mayhem with her chin. “He’s the guy who’s—”

  “I know who he is.” Alexi pushed her to her knees near the wall.

  He knelt in front of her and gently cradled her chin to force eye contact. “Stay here. I’ll get the computer. You’re going to try to get free and run out there. But, if you do, you will get shot.”

  He blew out a ragged sigh and cast a gaze behind him into the shooting. His tortured gaze returned to hers. “I can’t watch you die tonight. I don’t understand what’s driving you to do this, but I need for you to stay here and be invisible.”

  He traced the scar on her lip with his thumb. Abruptly, he stood. A few steps away he glanced back, his face etched with unease. He mouthed, Stay. And then he disappeared.

  She made herself invisible. From her kneel she squinted toward the lighted area of the warehouse, desperate to make out details and track him. Box towers blocked most of her view. This was her job, not his. He had no right to risk his life. She bit her lip, worried for a brief moment he’d get shot. And, if he accomplished this, then he’d ask a hefty price in exchange for the merchandise, one she wasn’t certain she wished to pay.

  If he accomplished this? Of course he’d succeed. He also wouldn’t get shot. Alexi was superhuman. That made him a feared covert operative, although none of their cohorts knew about his preternatural gifts, or hers. He was the most successful operative she’d ever gone up against. Last year she’d been assigned to kill him. He’d apparently been commissioned by Russia to kill her, but instead he’d calmly informed her it wasn’t her time to die. He had arrogantly assumed she couldn’t kill him, and he’d been right. She’d ended up having the most extraordinary night of her life. Until he’d slipped away without a word or a note.

  She tried to stand but realized Alexi had zip-tied her ankles as well. She shook her head with relucta
nt admiration. The guy was good. He must’ve tied her ankles at super speed. She resumed her kneel. If she could just reach her ankle, she’d retrieve the knife she’d hidden for this kind of restraint. After an uncomfortable Twister game move, she palmed the blade. She worked the knife between the tie around her ankles and popped it off. Then she started sawing behind her back on the one binding her wrists.

  Before she cut free, he returned. The pop-pop of gunfire and the sounds of physical fighting echoed behind him but slowly diminished. He casually laid the miniature laptop on a box too high for her to reach, a subtle jab at her five foot five versus his six feet.

  Long ago she’d discovered he could see through her invisibility. She stood and became visible. She eyed the computer while working the blade against the wrist zip tie, nicking herself a few times in the process. “What do you want in exchange for that?”

  He stepped close. Only a foot of air separated them. He didn’t answer but turned to glance behind him. “They’re all leaving. It will be over soon.”

  “What do you want for that?” She nodded toward the laptop.

  He gazed at her as if his request didn’t come easily. “I would like the answer to one question.”

  She resisted her instinct to back up. “Okay,” she replied warily. “Just one.”

  He traced a solitary finger along her jaw, then down her neck to her collar. His finger dropped away, but he didn’t back off. She couldn’t breathe. All coherent thought drifted away, leaving her victim to a white-hot need for this man. She wanted him surrounding her. Inside her. Against this wall. On the boxes. Hell, it didn’t matter where. Just that it happened now. What is wrong with you? Wrong time. Wrong place. Snap out of it.

  He said, “I suspect you won’t tell me why you need that laptop. So, my little Greek goddess descendant, tell me if you have a Sentry druid you’re bonded to yet. I know each of you witches usually has one within their ranks.”

  “What?” She halted the knife work at her wrists and forced her eyes off the temptation of his lips. His question slowly replayed in her mind.