The Problem With Witches: An Arcane Shot Series Novel

by Joey W. Hill

  The sultry woman who emitted pheromones like her personal oxygen supply swept him with a glittering look that trailed heat from the back of his neck to the soles of his feet. No lie, it felt as if her fingertips trailed along that same path. Another minute, and he’d pull Marcie’s picture out of his wallet and hold it up, like a priest wielding a cross.

  “Derek and Mikhael are Guardians, Light and Dark, respectively,” Ruby said. “Their job is to defend the world from the big, really bad stuff.”

  “Of course,” Ben said. “Like auto-tuning and the Fed raising interest rates. What do you two do in this circus act?”

  “We’re witches. Another class of magic user.” Ruby didn’t smile. Yet when his glance went pointedly to Raina, she offered a tight chuckle.

  “She’s got something extra thrown in. She’s half succubus. She’s not trying to lead you around by your cock, believe me. This is her on her lowest setting.”

  “Almost,” Mikhael said, tossing Raina a reproving look before he brought his attention back to Ben. “It does not matter if you believe we are a cadre of lunatics. Tell us what we need to know, and we will be on our way.”

  “Lunatics aren’t usually this well-organized,” Ben said. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hell, I really wanted to get home to my wife and that damn steak.”

  “I’m not seeing how we will interfere with that,” Mikhael said.

  “Because finding Elagra isn’t the same as giving tourists directions to Jackson Square,” Ben said irritably. “On top of that, this is our town. If something’s going down, you’re going to tell us what it is.” Ben pulled out his phone and hit a programmed button.

  “Us?” Mikhael exchanged a look with Derek while a smile crossed Raina’s moist red lips. Ben made the mistake of looking at her when she did it, which brought on a surge of lightheadedness. Christ.

  “I told you,” Derek said to Mikhael. “They’re warrior class.”

  “Sorry?” Ben frowned at him. The phone was searching for a signal. The deck could be a spotty area, but it should go through on the top deck. He’d called Matt from here before.

  Ruby answered the question. “Warriors are what we call those who will heed the call if needed, no matter how things change, how modern and separate from magic society seems.”

  Apparently, they preferred her to do the talking, probably because she came off the most normal of the bunch. They assumed that would make all this sound more yeah, okay, of course.

  He wasn’t the type of person who let himself be fucking handled. However, from the knowing light in Ruby’s eyes, he expected she understood that, and was playing it straight with him. Another reason he was pissed.

  It would be far easier if they were lunatics.

  “Yeah?” Matt’s Texas drawl on the other end of the phone had that no-nonsense, head-of-the-pack authority that Ben always appreciated. “We’ve talked about you working too many late hours. You have a wife now. I can hire you interns.”

  “Don’t threaten me. Plus, she needed study time. But work’s not why I’m calling. I need you and the others back at the office. We’ve got a situation.”

  Matt’s tone sharpened. “What kind of situation?”

  “Not a topic for the phone, but I want just the team. No one else. Understood?”

  A pause, and then Matt spoke. “Give me about thirty minutes. Lucas a few minutes longer, since he’s further out of the city.”

  “Tell him to borrow Cassie’s Harley. We can’t wait on him to pedal it in the middle of the night.”

  Ben cut the connection. Abruptly, because Mikhael had advanced as the conversation concluded. While he pocketed the phone to free up his hands, Ben narrowed his eyes in warning. But the Dark Guardian—whatever the fuck that was, though Ben was still guessing some form of cop—circled the McLaren Roadster. His initial concern that the guy was executing a flanking maneuver disappeared. Ben recognized the light in the male’s eyes, the first emotion Brioni Asshole had shown.

  Pure gearhead appreciation.

  "Nice car,” Mikhael said.

  "It's my wife's," Ben said. "She's letting me borrow it while my minivan's in the shop."

  The first part was a true statement. His Mercedes S 560 Cabriolet had been due for a tune-up and Marcie had graciously, with mischief dancing in her gaze, offered to let him “borrow” the car that had originally been his.

  Before he’d worked some of his personal shit out, he’d been drinking too much, being too self-destructive, and it had spilled out over her on one terrible night. Part of his amends had been to give up the McLaren for a charity auction. Eventually, the team had bought it back from Richard Lewis, the business rival who’d bought it at the auction. They’d gifted it to Marcie. His own damn car.

  “What’s your ride?” Ben asked pleasantly. He nodded toward Raina. “Or do you straddle the back of her broom and wear matching helmets?”

  Raina chuckled, a total grip-a-cock-just-right-and-stroke-it sound. Ben made a mental note to stay away from the jokes if he didn’t want to embarrass himself.

  Mikhael’s expression was back to statue mode. “Ferrari 458 Italia.”

  Nice. But Ben scoffed. “The McLaren will run circles around you.”

  “We can test that.” Mikhael straightened from his study of the McLaren and showed his teeth. “Or rather, your wife can. Since it’s her car.”

  Ben met that dark gaze. "Can't get to my wife except through me. I'm the fucking chasm to Hell."

  "I've been there," Mikhael replied. "It’s best to visit in winter."

  “And he tells me to dial down my energy,” Raina muttered to Ruby.

  Ben heard the comment, but kept his eyes on Mikhael. Yeah, he and this guy were going to have a problem. He could already tell that. Might as well bring it to a head. He preferred that to thinking about Elagra Jones.

  “As much as this rabid display of male plumage is making my panties wet, can I interrupt?” Raina drew closer to Mikhael’s side, so her breast pressed against his biceps. She rested her long-nailed hand on his chest, caressing him through the dress shirt. With her back mostly to Ben, she offered a premium view of her curvy ass while she looked up into Mikhael’s face. “His dick is longer, yours is bigger around, and both of them will scare fish when you’re naked,” she said. “All right? So can we move on?”

  She tossed that last part over her shoulder to Ben, including him in the sensual reproof.

  Ben pinched the bridge of his nose again. Fuck, fuck and double fuck. “Let’s head back up to our board room,” he said. “We’ll wait for the rest of the team there.”

  Chapter Two

  When not accompanying her mate on a trip to save a riverfront town from annihilation, Raina ran a bordello populated by her adopted cluster of sex demons. The congregation of incubi and succubi relied on her skills as a witch so that they could nourish themselves on their human clientele without causing them harm, all while repaying their mortal offerings with unforgettable pleasure. A win-win, and one that worked out nicely for her bottom line. She could afford her own Ferrari, if she cared about such things.

  Her profession depended on an intimate understanding of the minds of others. Mostly male others, so she had more practice with that gender. Ben O’Callahan was an intriguing study. After their initial bumpy introduction, he’d called in his reinforcements with surprisingly little additional interrogation on his part. When they adjourned to the executive board room, he’d even politely inquired if they wanted coffee or a drink while waiting. Then he’d said little else, moving to the bank of windows and staring out at the distant Mississippi. While it was difficult to see the river in the darkness, the lights following the river front made it easy to mark its whereabouts, particularly from this top floor.

  She’d expected the board room of company like K&A to be intimidating, and it was, with the large table and array of deep-seated, masculine chairs, but there were other touches to it she appreciated. Like several Japanese cut leaf maples, an
d a quietly gurgling fountain made up of dark, glossy stones in a corner. The pictures on the wall were local artist original paintings of the area. The table was shaped like a lotus pond, pleasing curves that reminded her of a woman. She wasn’t sure that was accidental. Power and sex moved hand in hand, and she detected a strong undercurrent of both here, as if this room had been used for more than business dealings.

  As she said, intriguing.

  Ruby’s brisk, direct personality and more human-relatable qualities had gotten their foot in the door. For the time being, she’d portaled back home. She’d come back when needed. So Raina was currently the only female in a roomful of alpha males.

  None of them showed the need for random chit chat. Derek and Mikhael wouldn’t waste energy sharing information that would have to be repeated when the others arrived. Both centuries old, they’d long ago left behind the need for small talk. Derek had his gaze on the ceiling as he rocked on the axis of his chair, turning it slowly back and forth. Mikhael had removed a deck of Tarot cards from his shirt and fanned them out on the table, studying them. Not to read them, but as a focus for whatever was going on in his head. The minds of Guardians were complex.

  But they were also males. With her own senses and specifically tuned radar, she could pick up other things.

  Derek missed Ruby, as he always did when they were apart. It gave his aura a yearning blue tinge, and it had taken on a deeper hue since Ruby had borne their son.

  For the first few years of Jem’s life, he’d intended to take a full hiatus from Guardian responsibilities, but this particular assignment couldn’t wait.

  A lot of them couldn’t. The two new parents were starting to realize that, but they were working it out. Doing things like this, where Ruby tagged out so she could be with their child, was part of it. It didn’t mean she or Derek liked the situation. “It sucks hairy-balled, rotten eggs,” Ruby had told Raina flatly.

  But saving the world was kind of a full-time job for Guardians, and Derek was one of their best. For him, missing a day of work didn’t mean a report wouldn’t be filed or a meeting would be missed. It meant lives, worlds collapsing, total universe chaos. He and Ruby cared about the world, so though that blue yearning was there, so too was that bold striation that most determined heroes had, the core of who they were.

  Her gaze turned to her own mate. Mikhael’s aura had that, too, but there was an underlying rich red tinge. It told her of his awareness of her, of the bond between them, even when his mind was occupied. She liked that.

  Though he’d admonished her about her succubus power, when she’d upped the volume to help Ben be a little less guarded, he’d allowed it. She could travel outside of her bordello safely, thanks to a part of Mikhael’s multi-faceted mind always buffering her, so she didn’t have to carry the full shield load. Helping her tone down her energy was almost second nature to him now, such that she didn’t often have to ask when she needed it.

  He was a gentleman, her Guardian. Even as he’d have her over his knee in a blink and be far less of a gentleman if she pushed him the right ways.

  His mouth quirked, a frisson of heat crossing his gaze even as he kept it on the cards. He couldn’t read her mind word for word, but he came damn close.

  She had no doubts Derek and Mikhael were both fully aware of everything happening in this room, every movement Ben made or sigh that escaped her lips. It didn’t make them any less capable of solving some other universe problem in their minds while they waited to discuss the plan ahead.

  But mechanics and strategy were only part of a mission like this. There had to be a cohesion of effort, a melding of personalities. That was part of why she was still here. She had a purpose similar to that of Ruby’s. Keeping that foot in the door of the minds of the people whose cooperation they needed. She moved toward Ben.

  The man had his hands in the pockets of his slacks and was motionless. No rocking back and forth or twitches of irritated movement, but the energy coming from him wasn’t calm. Not in the least. After speaking to Matt, he’d called his wife, letting her know he’d be late, and that he would explain later. She doubted he would. He wouldn’t wish to share this with Marcie; he would not want it to touch her.

  That wouldn’t matter. It never did. Men could be foolish. Wonderful, but foolish. As Raina came to his side, she felt Mikhael’s cocooning energy increase, a heat as welcome as his physical body. With that dampening field, she could stand near Ben without being too distracting.

  She already knew this was a man fiercely devoted to his wife. She had a feeling if Mikhael removed the field and she lifted her own, so that Ben’s body reacted to her without an emotional desire to do so, he’d cut off his own cock before betraying his beloved Marcie.

  Raina had no interest in driving a man to those ends. Especially one as dangerous and handsome as this.

  Really?

  The note in Mikhael’s mind-voice gave her a shiver. She sent him a sultry look under her thick lashes. Just making sure you’re paying attention to me.

  You’re going to receive more attention than you desire.

  Impossible. There is no quantity of your attention that could be more than I desire.

  She received an answering gleam from his dark eyes. He knew her heart. Knew all of her. She was no more likely than Ben to be disloyal to the one who owned her, body, heart and soul. Not because Mikhael had taken them, but because she’d willingly relinquished them. Trusted him with the most vulnerable parts of herself.

  Though his campaign to compel her to do that had been very…forceful. Something she appreciated considerably.

  “I can guess why they’re here. Why are you here, other than to try and throw me off balance?”

  Ben’s abrupt question drew her out of the exchange of provocative feelings with her mate.

  “Elagra is a witch,” she responded. “There are some elements of that craft that are more intuitive to me than to them.”

  His green eyes locked with hers, shrewd, penetrating. This one didn’t think with his cock, even when it was at full mast. “Yeah, I can see that,” he said. “You remind me a bit of her.”

  He turned back to the window. He hadn’t meant it as a compliment. A lot of tension there. She shifted to gaze out at the view with him. “Is that good or bad?” she asked.

  “Not sure yet.” He slanted a glance down at her. Like Mikhael, he was tall, over six feet. “I don’t know you. I know her.”

  “You accepted what we are pretty quickly,” she observed.

  “No reason to waste time denying what’s obvious. Does he…” Ben stopped, glanced at Mikhael. “You’re with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “You belong to him.”

  Her brow lifted, but before she could answer, Mikhael did.

  “Yes. She does.” Mikhael didn’t look up, but the message was clear. Mine. Touch at your own risk.

  Not that she thought that was Ben’s reason for asking. The vibe from Ben O’Callahan was pure sexual Dominant. She wasn’t surprised he’d picked up on that nuance of her relationship with Mikhael. Or other things.

  She tossed her hair back and leveled an amused look at Ben. “Though I make him work for it.”

  “I’ll bet.” Ben pursed his lips, his brow creasing. “Does he…have wings?”

  She didn’t sense his hesitation was due to feeling foolish for asking the question. It was as if the human male were gauging other issues, the implication of finding out. Determining if he really wanted to know the answer.

  “Yes,” she said. “You saw them. I thought you did. Only a person exposed to magic, enough to find it impossible to stay within the human comfort zone and block its reality, would have seen them. Which explains why you seemed to accept who we are far more quickly than expected.”

  Ben shrugged. “Shutting out the truth just gives it the chance to take a bigger chunk out of your backside. Most kids’ first experience with magic is Disney. Elagra was mine.”

  She knew exactly what it was li
ke to be caught in a web of dark magic. But she hadn’t expected to see that knowledge reflected in the shadows that rose in the eyes of the man before her. The comfortable room around them disappeared, and she remembered the endless cold against her bare, bleeding skin, the fear, the pain. And worst of all, the terrifying helplessness.

  “Don’t.” Raina.

  The spoken word had been Mikhael’s command to Ben. The second, much gentler but just as firm, was to her. It held her, pulling her back from that edge.

  When she focused, she realized Ben had reached out to touch her in reassurance, concern for her momentarily driving out the suspicion. He was a man who took care of women. Her sudden distress, the shudder that went through her, would have come off her in waves too strong to be feigned.

  Ben didn’t bristle at Mikhael’s spoken directive. Despite their initial adversarial stance, a couple of alpha dogs setting territory lines, Ben had correctly read Mikhael’s admonishment. Touching her when she was feeling out of sorts was not a good idea. Not when she wasn’t expecting it.

  She shook her head, smiled at her mate. I’m all right. The flashbacks were unsettling, but they were something with which she’d made peace, long ago. Primarily because she’d killed the bastard who’d inflicted those torments upon her. A far preferable manner of overcoming the experience than years of therapy. She expected Ben understood the value of that kind of closure.

  She touched Ben’s arm, a brief contact she drew back smoothly. “I’m sorry that was your first experience with magic. Magic is a wondrous thing, but it is merely a tool. It can be turned to evil or good, by the ignorant or the wise.”

  He was studying her in that way that told her he was evaluating that she was okay, not necessarily hearing her words. “You saved yourself with a different kind of magic, didn’t you?” she persisted. “Your wife. A love bound in a reality so strong it can’t be shaken. Which is why she’s going to be joining us.”

  That caught his attention. The green eyes snapped back to a far less friendly mode. One step from the threshold of deadly. She was used to dangerous men, however, and enjoyed walking that tightrope.