Rebel Witch

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Rebel Witch Page 12

by September Stone


  My heart flutters in my chest. “Then come here.”

  He stares at me for a moment like he’s not sure he heard me right. Even when his feet move to comply with my order, he looks like he’s unsure he should be obeying.

  Panic floods me. Was I wrong about the binding spell? “I didn’t just make you do that, did I?”

  He snorts as he comes to a stop a polite distance away. “No. I’m here because I want to be.”

  I smile as relief washes over me. “I want you here, too. Actually…” I take a step closer until there is only a whisper of space between us. “I want you here.”

  He closes his eyes, a shudder of either pleasure or pain coursing through him. “Bryn…”

  I bring my hands up, placing my fingers lightly on either side of his face. He pulls in another breath, keeping his eyes closed like he’s afraid to open them. My whole body feels like a live wire, sparking and twisting in a mix of joy and nervousness.

  My heart pounds against my chest as I let my palms rest on his cheeks. Silas isn’t much taller than I am, and simply leaning forward would bring me dangerously close to his mouth. I fight the desire to press forward. It’s not right. Not yet. “Open your eyes.”

  His head bobs for a moment before his eyelids flutter open. His eyes are filled with an emotion I can’t name.

  “I’m your focus,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know what spirits assigned me to you, but I’m so glad they did. Silas, I don’t know if you realize how much you mean to me. If I put distance between us when I said you’re my best friend, I’m sorry, because, truly, that means more to me than I could ever express.”

  His eyes glisten and he blinks a few times. “I do know how much it means. And you’re my best friend, too.” He inhales through his nose, sniffling. “And it feels selfish to want more. Especially when you’ve already got Calder and Taj... Even Poe, if he ever pays his debt to the elders.”

  The words hurt, but not because I feel bad for my relationship with any of the other three men. Instead, I hate that my feelings for them are making Silas feel like he’s less than what he is to me. “Calder was my first love,” I admit. “I didn’t think anyone could ever care about me, not after what my mother did. But he proved me wrong and made me brave enough to trust again. Taj makes me strong. I know I can be myself because of him. Poe…” Saying his name is like a hot knife though my heart. “He challenges me, and he makes me better for it.”

  Silas nods as I speak, as if none of this comes as a surprise.

  “But you,” I say, running my hands through his silky black hair. “You’re my mirror, Silas. I feel like you’re the other half of me. Our histories bind us together in a way that no one else can ever understand.”

  “Friends,” he murmurs.

  I shake my head. “So much more than that.”

  I’m not sure which of us moves, but in the next breath, his soft lips are on mine. His arms circle my body, pulling me tight against his muscled chest. My fingers tangle in his silky locks as our mouths explore each other. He coaxes my lips open and I surrender to a deeper kiss. Tingles race down my skin, making me shiver in the most delicious way.

  Something in me seems to snap into place, like a puzzle piece I didn’t know I was missing. Suddenly, the picture of my life I had thought was complete changes into something more wondrous than before. Silas is meant to be with me. I know that now beyond the shadow of a doubt.

  One of Silas’ hands tangle in my hair while the other spreads across my back, rubbing up and down my spine in a way that turns my bones to jelly. He breaks our kiss only to work his way down my jaw to my neck, nibbling and exploring the sensitive skin and making my toes curl.

  I’m rushing headlong into a realm of desire I haven’t yet explored. My body responds to Silas’ touches in a way I wouldn’t have imagined possible. Wetness gathers in my folds and an ache builds inside me, begging for release.

  This is nothing like our brief kisses in the undine’s cave. Those were desperate, utilitarian acts—although, in hindsight, I should have realized then that I’m his anchor. Otherwise, how could his kiss have given me the strength to break through the cavern’s stone wall?

  But now it’s as if we’re making up for lost time. There’s nothing tentative about the way his mouth claims me, or about the way his arms pull me close to him. His lips dance along my collarbone, sending pulses of pleasure through me. My nipples pucker with the desire to be touched.

  I pull away just long enough to tug my shirt over my head. Silas’ eyes widen as his gaze sweeps over my lacy bra. The first time I pulled the article out of the backpack full of supplies Sophie provided for me, I thought the scrap of fabric bordered on ridiculous. But watching my men’s eyes darken with desire when they see it has quickly changed my perspective.

  Silas grips the hem of his own shirt and yanks it off in one fluid motion. It’s my turn to admire his body, and I press my hands to his chest, tracing the cut lines of his abdominal muscles. “You’re incredible,” I murmur.

  A smile curves his lips. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

  And then he’s kissing me again, and all words disappear from my head. All that exists is the feel of Silas’ hands, of his lips, of his hair. At some point, we move and I find my back pressed against the cool cabin wall. Thank goodness we’re not in the war room cabin with all the pictures and notes tacked up everywhere.

  I hike my leg up around Silas’ hip, desperate for him to be nearer. But the move has the opposite of its intended effect, and he pulls back far enough to look me in the eye.

  “How far do you want this to go?” His chest heaves with quickened breaths as he studies my face. “Anyone could walk in here.”

  “I don’t care.” The words tumble from my mouth with a fierceness that makes his eyes widen. But the boldness of my statement makes it no less true. Now that Silas is finally here with me, not just for now but forever, I can’t contain my desire for him—and I don’t care who knows it. “I want this. Silas, I want you.”

  His hand grips the underside of my thigh, hiking my leg up higher on his hip. “I want you, too.”

  As he presses in close to kiss me again, I slip my hands between us and fumble with the button on his pants. He undoes the clasp on my bra before helping to unfasten his jeans. Without breaking our kiss, we manage to kick out of our shoes, then our socks, before finally working off our pants and underwear.

  The heat of his erection presses against my center as he pulls me back into his arms. My whole body screams with need to have him inside me, but he doesn’t rush things. Instead of plunging his cock into my waiting pussy, he steps back, giving himself enough space to lean down and take one of my nipples into his mouth. I gasp at the pressure he uses on the taut peak, and then again as two of his fingers slide against my clit, sending wave after wave of pleasure through me. His teeth rake against my puckered bud and I slip my fingers through the silky strands of his hair.

  “Yes.” The word comes as an exhale, both encouragement and plea. I reach down, desperate to wrap my fingers around his length, but his body is positioned to keep my goal just out of reach. I scrape my nails along his hip. “Please. I want to touch you.”

  He steps forward as he switches to give my other breast the same attention as the first, the rhythm he rocks against my clit never breaking. When I reach down again, I find his hardness without a problem and I press my palm against it before encircling it with my fingers. Its width is more than I expected, sending a shiver of anticipation straight to my slit.

  Slowly, I slide my hand toward his tip, pausing to swirl a bead of precum around the head of his cock before traveling back to the base. A moan of pleasure escapes his lips as my hand moves forward once again. The sensations of his velvet heat in my hand, his fingers on my clit, and his mouth on my nipple collide like waves crashing against each other inside me. With each passing second, I find my way further up the mountaintop, closer and closer to the summit of ecstasy. I do
n’t want to come until he’s inside me, but before I can stop it, I pass the tipping point. My breath comes in sharp gasps, and Silas slips his fingers into my aching hole, his thumb taking up residence against my clit. As he plunges his digits inside me, an orgasm rips through my body, pulling a scream from my lips as my pussy clenches around his fingers. He keeps up his rhythm as I come down, and I find another wave to ride, pulling his face to mine as I come again.

  “Silas,” I gasp against his mouth. “That was incredible.”

  A wicked smile twists his lips. “We’re not done yet.”

  In one swift motion, he lifts me up by the thighs, pressing my back against the wall for leverage. My surprised gasp is cut short when he plunges his cock into my quaking heat. The flames still stoked from my first round of orgasms leap higher and higher with each pump of his hips against mine. I lock my ankles together around his waist to keep from slipping as he slams inside me again and again.

  “Silas. Silas.” His name tumbles from my lips over and over as he kisses my neck. I’ve experienced a variety of emotions while making love with my men. Each one has stirred up something different inside me, whether I’ve been with Poe or Calder or Taj—or Calder and Taj. And while each encounter has been incredible, something sets this one apart from the others. I feel like I’m outside myself—part of something that stretches beyond my physical body.

  “Bryn.” Silas murmurs my name as he kisses his way up my neck and back to my mouth. His mouth claims mine as he pins me against the wall, no longer pistoning inside me. He tilts his pelvis upward, stretching my opening to the dividing line between pleasure and pain until my body feels ready to explode.

  He pulls back from our kiss, putting just enough distance between us to look into my eyes. “I love you. Is that crazy to say?”

  The magic inside me surges at his words, the strands of gold and green stretching out and binding us together. Tears bite at the corners of my eyes. “It’s not crazy at all. Silas, I love you.”

  When our mouths mesh together again, it’s enough to send me over the edge. I gasp against his lips as he builds up his rhythm again. My toes curl and the world rips open before my eyes as I ride the waves of an orgasm that refuses to let me go. Just when I think I’ve finally escaped its grip, Silas jerks against me, moaning as he releases inside me. His sounds, coupled with his pulsing member, send me back into the stratosphere until I’m afraid I may never return to myself again.

  But I do make my way back down. Silas guides my feet back to the floor before wrapping me in his arms, trapping the musky scent of our sex between us. For the first time, I can see the benefit of having waited until we were in a room with a bed, because I’d like nothing more than to curl up beside him and drift off to sleep.

  I’m about to suggest we find a place to do just that when a sensation zings through my body with the jarring force of an electric current. Emotions and images swirl in my head, but I can’t make sense of any of them. When I try to grab hold of one, it evaporates like mist.

  The sensation fades as quickly as it appeared, leaving a single word on my lips.

  “Poe.”

  Silas stiffens and pulls away, and it’s only then that I realize what I’ve said. “No,” I say quickly. “Silas—it’s not… I wasn’t thinking about him just now or anything. It’s just…”

  He holds a hand up, silencing me. “No. I felt it, too. Poe’s in danger, isn’t he?”

  I don’t know how we know it, but I’m positive he’s right. “We have to get to him.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Poe

  The morning of Lillian Castle’s trial before the elders, I can’t shake a single nagging thought.

  It’s been too easy.

  I’ll be the first to say that I’m good at my job. With few exceptions, I’ve always brought in the man—or woman—the elders assigned me to find. On a technicality, Bryn was brought in by Harvey, but since she didn’t end up facing punishment from the elders, I figure that one works out as a wash. And I didn’t bring in Mona Ward, but since that was a bullshit mission I came up with on the spot so I could hunt for the great mage in the woods, I figure that shouldn’t count against me either.

  I’ve taken down some truly bad people in my time with the elders. Dr. Eugene Ranker, a vampire who experimented on shifters and psychics. Mariska Vanovitch, who ran a dating service that was a front for a sex trafficking ring. And while I’ve always managed to bring in my mark, never have I felt things come together so easily as they did with Lillian.

  And the whole business puts me on edge.

  The whole mansion is filled with the same nervous energy that always accompanies these big-name trials. Lillian is, no doubt, the biggest bad we’ve ever had stand trial. Lillian has her fingers in several criminal pots, and with Mona in the wind, she’s the top supernatural mobster in the country at the moment.

  But the excitement doesn’t reach me as I walk through the halls toward the elders’ chambers. The murmurs speculating about what fate might befall such a criminal is nothing but background noise to me.

  Although it’s customary for the bounty hunters associated with a particular bounty to be present during the trial, it’s not strictly necessary. I’ve skipped several in my day—usually because I’m getting ready to go out to find someone else. And while I’m not exactly juiced to stand along the back wall with the other hunters during what may be hours of dusty procedure, it doesn’t cross my mind to stick close to my room.

  Lillian is the one who sent Silas to curse Bryn. Without that act, my life would be different now. I’m not exactly sure what shape it would take. If not for Silas’ interference, would I have caught up with Bryn? Would she still have appealed to me in the same way if we hadn’t been linked by the threat of impending death?

  I have no way of knowing. And even though thinking about Bryn stirs up a storm inside me, I can’t stay away from the thinnest connection to her. Today, that thread is tied firmly around Lillian Castle.

  I slip into the elders’ chambers, and weave through the unusually dense crowd to find a place to stand. Even though I’ve been in it countless times before, today I can’t help seeing it through Bryn’s eyes. I still recall her gasp of wonder when she first entered the room. The marble floor glints and glistens in the light spilling in through the stained-glass windows. The wash of color gives the whole place the illusion of a sacred location, although I know too well that nothing holy ever happens within these walls. The elders are already seated on the dais, with Amos Cross’ seat still empty. I don’t know how long it will be before they find someone to replace him. Although I know the purpose of an odd number on the council serves to avoid a split vote, I doubt they will have trouble coming to a consensus today.

  A door to the right of the dais opens with a soft creak, and the attention of everyone present focuses in on the guards ushering in the accused.

  Lillian glides gracefully into the room. The color that leeched from her cheeks during her relocation here is replenished, reminding me that the elders might be hard, but they are fair. They could have declined to provide the accused with blood to strengthen herself after the healing work her body needed after the gunshot, but they didn’t. According to Silas, Lillian had siphoned off magic from three different kinds of witches—water, fire, and air. Because of that, I was on alert the whole trip back here, waiting for her to mount some kind of escape. But even a vampire with witch magic coursing through her blood needs time to heal after being shot, I suppose.

  Although we had her outfitted with two sets of cuffs on the journey back to Twin Rivers, Lillian now only wears the red pair that dampens the vampiric powers of persuasion. The elders must have determined that the room’s wards against magic are strong enough to keep Lillian from using her ill-gotten powers.

  I can’t help glancing at the stone ledges high on the walls. On each shelf sits a glass pyramid the size of my head. Those charms have been here as long as I can remember, negating the magic of any witch w
ho enters the room. Their golden glow is especially comforting today.

  As Lillian takes her place on the golden circle in the middle of the room, a hush falls over the crowd. Daya stands, gazing imperiously down her nose at Lillian.

  “Lillian Castle, you stand accused of crimes against the supernatural community. I am prepared to list all the charges, if you wish to hear them.”

  Although Daya’s voice is low, it carries easily throughout the whole room.

  “I don’t need to hear the charges to know I’m not guilty,” Lillian counters easily.

  Chuckles rise up among the three seated elders, but Daya doesn’t so much as crack a grin. “I assure you, we have more than enough proof that you have committed countless wrongs against our people.”

  It’s Lillian’s turn to laugh. “Our people? As if you care about anyone other than yourself. If you really cared about ‘our people,’ you’d do something about the oppression we’re facing.”

  A wave of murmurs courses through the crowd, but none of the words reach me. I’ve heard all kinds of defenses in my day—usually from bounties trying to convince me not to bring them in—but this is a new one for me. Lillian is no underling who didn’t know the scope of her involvement. I don’t know if there’s anything she’s involved in that isn’t illegal.

  Daya silences the whispers with a raise of her chin. “Oppression? The only one oppressing our people is you. One charge against you is trafficking in the supernatural slave trade. You capture witches and shifters and the like and sell them to the highest bidder.”

  “You’re too blind to see the big picture,” Lillian accuses. “What does it matter if I profit off a handful of beings when we’re all slaves?”

  Marty elbows my arm. “Is she crazy?”

 

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