by Sonya Clark
Cocking an eyebrow, she said, “You bet it will.” She laughed, shaking her hand to dispel the magic. “I don’t think there are many who can do this. Or if there are, they don’t admit to it. I keep it secret except for a few people.”
“Why? You afraid of DMS?” He took her hand, tracing each finger with his, turning it over and tracing the lines on her palm.
She bit back a groan. “Uh, yeah. I’d wind up a lab rat probably. But it’s not just them. A lot of Magic Born don’t trust technology because of how our people were discovered, how the testing is used to segregate us. I know everyone’s got an ID, but we’re the main ones who get stopped and badged, our movements tracked. Vadim gets away with owning a tablet because he doesn’t flaunt it and he has money. Way more than most of us. Most of us can’t afford the tech, so that’s another strike against it.”
“You have to hide from Normals and Magic Born both?”
“There are people in FreakTown who would turn me in if they knew, just for a little reward money. We have to be careful about the railway too.”
“This guy at the arcade, you didn’t know him?”
“No. He was using a glamour spell but not very well. Like he wasn’t good at them.” Something jiggled her memory. “Like the guy who tried to talk to me that night on the roof of the club.”
“The kid I ran off? I thought he was hitting on you.”
“I thought so too, but maybe not. Maybe he wanted to talk. If it’s the same guy he may be looking for help.”
“But you were using a glamour that first night you saw him. How would he know what you really look like? If anyone knew—Calla, I never told you, but Beckwith’s guard Kane was in the club that night. I didn’t follow you because I was jealous, I did it because I was afraid he was there for you.”
Calla shook her head, thoughts racing. “No. He was looking for the guy.”
“The guy who was looking for you.”
“What the hell is going on?” There was still too much they didn’t know. Forbes, Beckwith, a mystery Magic Born with electric magic. But if Forbes knew about that kind of magic, then the DMS must have known. So why weren’t they doing some kind of testing to find more witches like that? The only answer that made sense was that Forbes hadn’t had sanction for whatever experiments he’d been doing.
“We don’t know enough,” Nate said. “Walker and Henry knew about the first DNA test and they’re both dead now. I know about the test and they tried to kill me.” He snorted. “Wonder if the chief has decided to take a nice long vacation yet.”
“Isn’t he a little too high profile to go after?”
“Is he? If it is Beckwith behind all this, he’s got a hell of a lot to lose.”
Nate’s mention of the first DNA test brought up yet more questions. “He could be unregistered. The guy from the arcade. Which would explain the test but doesn’t necessarily prove he killed Forbes.”
“It would suggest that a United States senator knows about the existence of unregistered Magic Born. He wouldn’t want even the possibility of that getting out.”
Calla couldn’t be still anymore. Leaping from the bed, she paced the tiny room. “Whatever they were doing, DMS doesn’t know. That’s the only thing that makes sense.” She snapped her fingers, sending a spark flying. “And that’s how we get that target off your back.”
“By proving it and turning him in?”
“Or blackmail,” she said cheerfully. “I’m open to whatever gets it done.” What she wanted done was Nate, safe. As badly as she wanted the senator to burn, she’d gladly trade that for Nate’s safety if she had to.
Nate looked doubtful. “I’m willing to try just about anything, but I don’t know...”
“What? I know it’s not much of a plan, but right now it’s all I got.”
He left the bed to pull her into his arms. “I know. I guess I just don’t have a lot of hope that we can pull this off.”
She ran her hands slowly up his chest to twine them behind his neck. “You have no idea how tenacious I can be when I want something.”
A heat she knew well returned to his eyes. “Then why don’t you show me?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Calla’s heart thumped out of rhythm. An unaccustomed shyness overtook her, and she lowered her eyes. She knew what Nate wanted. She wanted it too, but for some reason things between them felt different than any other time they’d been together. Different even from less than an hour earlier, when she’d woken him with kisses. An awareness of something more than the physical seeped into her blood.
Cupping her cheek, he tilted her face and kissed her, slow and thorough. Bones melting, she sagged against him and clung to the heavy muscle of his arms and shoulders. He reached under her tank, hands burning a path across her lower back with a feather-light caress. She moved just enough to let him pull the top off, not caring where it wound up. It could have dropped to the floor. It could have been swallowed by a black hole. All that mattered was his hands on her skin.
Nate drew her to the edge of the bed, guiding her to stand between his thighs. Starting at the hollow of her throat, he planted kisses on the line of her collarbone, first on one side, then on the other. She had to keep her hands on his shoulders to stay upright. The corners of his mouth tipped into a smile. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. How he managed to be confident rather than arrogant was one of the many mysteries she couldn’t solve about him. Another was how he knew her so well, as if she was a frequency to which only he was tuned.
His smile widened, crinkling his eyes. She must have been broadcasting pretty loud. He brushed his lips down her chest to the center of her bra, then kissed around the edges of the cups. Her nipples pebbled beneath the thin material. Trying to urge him on, she curled her fingers into the flesh of his shoulders. He skated one hand up her spine and with a deft motion unhooked the bra, letting it join her tank top in oblivion.
The first touch of his tongue on one nipple sent molten heat straight to her core. When he took the nipple in his mouth, oh so softly at first, all her thoughts splintered into tiny shards and flew. He alternated light swipes of his tongue and gentle tugs, escalating the tension in her until she felt ready to snap. As if he could tell, he backed off, switching to the other breast to give it the same gentle but increasingly powerful attention.
Every stroke of his tongue propelled her higher. Intense arousal called to magic deep inside, the silver-white glow of it hovering at the edge of her vision. Maneuvering to straddle his lap, she rubbed against him, frustrated with the clothing still between them. She tugged on the bottom of his T-shirt, rolling it up and finally working it over his head even though she hated the momentary loss of his mouth on her breast. He lifted her from his lap to lay her on the bed, then stretched out above her.
Magical energy built in a slow wave of pressure as she hung suspended in the spell of his touch. Where his hands traveled, his mouth soon followed, soft lips and velvety tongue speaking to her in a private language. Spiraling into an altered state, Calla couldn’t form thoughts anymore, much less speech. Everything but the two of them dissolved—the clothing separating their skin, the room, the outside world. He was the only solid thing in her awareness, the only thing to cling to as she spun out of herself.
He entered her slowly, inch by deliberate inch, branding his essence on her in a way he might never understand. She opened to him, raising her legs to wrap them around his waist. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he moved inside her. Deep in a place beyond the physical something bloomed, expanding outward to cocoon them both. The first shimmers of orgasm brought a gasp and she cried out as it hit full force. On and on it went, an endless moment of searing pleasure, until she landed safely in his arms.
“What...what is that?” Nate’s ragged whisper came from far away. Coming back into herself enough to focus, Calla saw h
is mouth open in amazement as he watched the silver light that danced around them.
“It’s magic.” She pulled him into a kiss, curling her fingers into his hair and keeping her legs wrapped firmly around him.
“It’s beautiful.” Smiling, he smoothed the hair back from her face. “It feels like you.”
They fell into another kiss, and another, and another.
* * *
Nate woke starving and disoriented by the strange place. The room was shrouded in darkness, the witchlight that served as the only illumination having long since waned. He dropped a kiss on Calla’s shoulder as he disentangled from her, picking up his clothes as he padded to the bathroom.
When he returned, he found her sitting up in bed shaking, clutching the sheet in front of her. “What is it?” He rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms.
She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. Pushing him away, she stumbled from the bed, almost falling as she plucked her clothing from the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Did she regret what happened? Was she still trying to insist there could be nothing between them? “Calla, talk to me.”
“I don’t do that!” Holding the sheet and her clothes in front of her like a shield, she trembled, refusing to look at him.
“Don’t do what?” The urge to pick her up and hold her was great, but he knew that would be pointless until she calmed down.
“I don’t just let go like that. I don’t just let a man—” she snapped her mouth shut and turned her back to him.
Nate took a deep breath. “Let a man what? Make love to you?” She didn’t answer. He said, “We’ve had plenty of sex, but maybe that was the first time we’ve made love. Is that what’s got you spooked?”
She whispered, “I wasn’t in control.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Of myself. I just...let go.”
He took a step toward her. She whirled suddenly, accusation in her face. “If you got me pregnant, I will break you into little pieces.”
Not sure whether to be offended or laugh, he merely said, “What, you think I didn’t see the condoms you put in with the clothes you brought me?” He pointed at the bag on the table.
Bright red stained Calla’s cheeks. “Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Yeah, I forgot.”
Hoping the worst of her bluster was over, he crossed the short distance between them and grabbed her hips. Grinning, he said, “Were you really that out of it?”
“Shut up.” She slapped at his hands halfheartedly.
“I mean, I thought it was pretty amazing and I’ve certainly gotten my share of compliments, but consciousness altering?” Now he did laugh. “That’s a new one for me.”
Shoving his hands away, she pushed him toward the bed. “Shut! Up!”
He caught her hand as she slapped at him, pulling her on top of him as he let himself fall to the bed. “You are really in a state over this.”
“Smug bastard. Let me go.” She twisted against him.
Just to be difficult, he tightened his hold on her. “Nope. Bastard’s not the word I like you to call me.” He nibbled at a sensitive spot on her neck right below her ear, enjoying her body squirming against his.
“Asshole.” It came out in a breathy sigh. “How can you be so calm about this?”
He guided her hand to his growing erection. “Do I really seem calm to you?” There were more sensitive spots that needed his attention—namely the sides of her breasts. A soft caress there always earned him a moan. He pulled at the tangle of clothes and sheet.
She managed to slip away, backing up to the headboard. Holding up a hand with the palm facing out, she said, “You’re not going to distract me.”
Momentarily giving up, he sighed. “Okay. Fine. What’s the problem?”
“We can’t just pretend that everything that’s going on isn’t going on. It’s not a good idea—”
“Bullshit! That’s what you always say and I’m tired of it. We could sit here and list off a dozen reasons, hell, a hundred reasons not to be together. None of them matter.”
“How can you talk like they’re nothing?”
“Because they are nothing compared to the one reason we should be together.”
“What’s that?” There was disbelief in her expression, along with the attitude that by turns infuriated him and attracted him.
“You really need to pull your head out of your ass.” Probably not the best way to put it, but he was tired of repeating this argument. “We love each other, that’s the reason!”
He expected fury, possibly for her to walk out. He didn’t expect her eyes to fill with tears. Cursing himself, he moved close and gathered her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”
“It doesn’t matter that we love each other, Nate. It’s not enough. There’s no point.”
“Love is the point, the only point.” He faced her so they made eye contact. “I’ve dated before. I’ve even been married before. I’ve never loved anybody the way I love you. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. And I don’t care what we have to do, how hard it is, what kind of restrictions we have to work around. I want to be with you.”
Her face crumpled in a sob.
Blinking away his own tears, he took her face in his hands. “I love you, Calla Vesper, and I am not gonna let anyone or anything come between us. We will find a way. Do you hear me? We will find a way.”
“I love you, Nate. I love you so much.” Her voice broke at the end.
Nate held her close, rocking her gently as she cried out all her fear and doubt.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sun beat down on Calla’s back as she hunched over the table attempting to keep her mind on work. After she’d spent all day and night yesterday with Nate, Vadim had convinced her she needed to be seen out and about in order not to raise suspicion. Trancehacking took a lot out of a person, he’d not so politely reminded her, and she’d need rest before working with the tablet later. Reluctantly, she’d agreed and found space at the artisan tables across from the Craft Emporium.
The hours trudged by. Few people spoke to her, Bethany making it clear that there were yet more rumors swirling about Calla and Nate but no one was brave enough to ask questions. Even Bethany seemed reluctant to so much as exchange pleasantries with Calla, afraid of her sharp tongue.
Sometimes it bothered Calla that she couldn’t find it in herself to be more sociable, more likeable, but other times she didn’t give a damn. Today was definitely a didn’t-give-a-damn day.
Tired from worry and lack of sleep, she couldn’t get her hands to cooperate with the delicate task of crafting earrings. She got little done, working with great care so she didn’t ruin any supplies. Finally the others started breaking up toward the end of the day. Breathing a sigh of relief, she packed her stuff and made her way home.
Half an hour later she entered the secret apartment. Nate greeted her with a kiss as Zinnia unpacked food containers on the table. Addressing the other woman, she said, “You just get here?”
Zinnia nodded. “Vadim had me running made-up errands all day. To make sure I was seen.” She waved her hands. “He’s paranoid.”
“He brought me lunch,” Nate said, looking grim. “Then he stayed for two hours to talk at me about Russian literature.”
“Paranoid and in danger of cracking,” Calla said. Pointing at the unopened food, she asked, “Indian?”
“Yup. And chocolate cake for dessert. You’re going to need plenty of fuel for what you’re going to be doing later.” Zinnia blushed at the look Nate gave her. “I mean with the tablet. Shut up.”
Nate snorted as he passed out plates. Dinner was spent talking about anything but their problems, and the ease with which Nate and Zinnia got along made Calla h
appy. She liked seeing that it wasn’t just her—he treated other Magic Born with respect as well.
Curry gone, cake demolished, conversation run dry, it was time to get to work. Calla sat on the floor propped against the bed with the tablet in front of her. With her wand and the tablet’s broadband card, she slipped into cyberspace. Its blue-white architecture and twilight landscape was almost soothing in its familiarity. Taking a roundabout pathway, she searched the police department’s files for the original DNA test. She was unsurprised to find only a ghost of a deleted file that could no longer be read. They’d discussed what to do in this situation, so she stayed online and made her way to her next target: the intranet system of Alan Forbes’ private clinic.
Miles of files, she thought. Miles and miles. Going through all of it would take hours, maybe days, even at just a peek. As long as it had been since the murder and considering the cagey behavior of Jenkins, the best course of action would probably be to look for more ghosts of deleted files.
She hit the mother lode with that. A vast section of space shimmered with ghost files, unreadable and faded. Data recovery spells were still something she was working on developing, so there was nothing more to be done there.
Traveling with care to avoid problems with security, she worked her way back out of the system. She was almost to the public internet when something caught her attention, a hint of something she didn’t expect to see.
Magic.
Tracing the source of the unexpected energy signature, she found a file within a file within a file, its contents secured with a spell. Marveling at the complexity of it, she knew it was important. Maybe exactly what they were looking for. It took concentration and a deft touch, but she managed to download the hidden file to the tablet. It also took time—far longer than she wanted to spend in the clinic intranet. The file was massive, though, containing too many subfolders to count. Banking on it being worth the risk, she completed the task and got out, returning first to the public internet and then to realspace.