Enchantment

by Lawna Mackie

  “Tethran is an all-powerful sorcerer. He is the only sorcerer we know of who is capable of mind control. It was rumored he found love in the arms of one forbidden him, and to protect her, he returned to his solitary life.”

  Meeka began pacing. “I’ve got to speak to my mother.”

  “Listen to me carefully. You are still in great danger, just as I’ve said all along. Tethran is thousands of years old, and very powerful. I don’t actually know of anyone more powerful than he is, and no one would dare touch him. He is old and skilled. You are not. Other beings would do whatever was necessary to get hold of his type of power, but no one could possibly match Tethran’s strength. They now have other options—that being you. Do you understand what I’m saying? You are the power they will try to seize and misuse. For the rest of your life, which will be a very long time, you will always have to be on your guard.”

  Meeka’s head hurt again, definitely on overload. Once again, the plaintive whisper of why me washed over her. She wanted to run into Kerrigan’s arms and stay there away from everything she knew, but now, another more dreadful thought crossed her mind. She was a danger to anyone who was close to her. If she were always to be hunted by evil, she would be putting anyone who cared about her in harm’s way, too. Her very existence put Kerrigan in jeopardy.

  As if reading her mind, Catz put a paw on her hand. “Meeka, you will never be alone.” “No, but I should be.” Meeka lay back, staring blankly at the domed ceiling and the fish swimming back and forth.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Grimacing at the disgusting belch echoing down the hall, Thalius shuffled through the darkness. Having Jager in his home was the only way to stop Kerrigan from discovering his whereabouts. That didn’t mean he had to like it. Kerrigan would know he was home, but nothing else. But it was better to have him there, anyway. They had much planning to do.

  Thalius gagged at the titter of the whore Jager had demanded. If there was one thing they had in common beyond a thirst for power, it was the need for sex. Thalius looked down at his disfigured body. He was disgusting. His knuckles were so large, he had a hard time picking up his glass. Warts were growing on his face at an alarming rate. He was using way too much magic, and it was really starting to affect his appearance. He hobbled through his opulent marbled home, the crystal cane clicking on the floor as he went. He wasn’t able to get around without his cane at all now.

  There were a few things to ease the pain: Swish and lots of it, magic, which he hated to use on pain, and occasionally the concubines waiting for him in his bedroom. Thalius headed for them. He had time to spare before he met with Jager. He pushed the door open to his large bedroom. Instantly, they slithered out from under the bed. Naked and translucent, they came his way with hands reaching out.

  They were tiny female creatures not more than three feet high. Thalius kept them half- starved, knowing he could control them better. He provided for their every need, even if it was in too small an amount. Truth be known, they were his sex slaves. They thrived on male bodily fluid.

  Thalius closed the door and locked it, letting his robe fall to the floor. The three imps swirled around his feet, licking as they went. Thalius felt himself growing harder by the second. The first imp reached out to lick his cock. Thalius moaned as the first drops of his pleasure seeped from the end of his manhood.

  The imps went crazy, lapping furiously at his center. He felt his body being lifted and carried. They laid him on his bed and swarmed his body. The licking became sucking, and Thalius felt the building of his pleasure along with the disappearance of his pain.

  He let out a sick laugh, knowing he’d have to feed them with his seed, and when it wasn’t enough, his blood. His vision was becoming cloudy. He was close to shooting his cum all over them.

  The first of the three imps impatiently sank her tiny fangs into his twisted leg. Thalius grunted and thrust his head back as his release shot from his body. The imps went wild, sinking their fangs into his body, drinking their fill.

  “Enough, you wretched creatures!” He said, backhanding the first to the floor. The shriek caused the other two to lift their heads and shrink away. They left with snarled hisses.

  The pain subsided.

  Ahhh, much better.

  Sliding off the bed, Thalius went in search of Jager.

  * * * *

  Jager felt like a caged criminal. He hated being told what to do.

  I want out of this stupid marble jar.

  He kicked a chair and continued pacing, his paid-for bed mate long since scurrying away with more than a few new bruises. Jager knew Thalius was correct. Kerrigan wasn’t stupid, so he must know by now he no longer resided in Tombs. The Enforcer would put two and two together. Kerrigan would have found him already if he wasn’t holed up here in this house. A sick, crooked smile crept over his face as he imagined Kerrigan cursing, trying to figure out where he was.

  Sitting still was not something he did well, but he knew in the end, being patient would pay off. Having the sweet little Meeka in his hands would be worth the wait. He hadn’t had an unwilling female since the three Kerrigan threw him in Tombs for. No, he wouldn’t kill Meeka, just use her.

  Then I’ll be off this fucking world.

  He wasn’t sure what Thalius had in mind for a plan, but whatever it was, he hoped it was good.

  Talk of the devil.

  Jager heard Thalius’s cane clicking down the stairs only moments before the Counselor shuffled into the room with a satisfied look on his face.

  Jager sneered. “What’d you do…fuck yourself?”

  “Shut up, Jager. A person of my power, unlike you, doesn’t need to jerk off. I have a willing group of imps who live to service me and my every need.” The sneer vanished off Jager’s face.

  Lucky asshole.

  He glared. “How about sharing those slaves with me while I’m held up here in your sicko dungeon?”

  It was a dungeon, filled with lots of sadistic devices. Studded collars, whips, shackles, you name it. Jager wasn’t wrong in believing Thalius was disturbed. Maybe it was why he liked him so much.

  “So what’s your plan, Thalius?” Jager rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait to have my hands on that innocent piece of meat.”

  Thalius poked him in the chest with his cane. “You will not touch Meeka until I’ve finished with her. Got it?” He snarled.

  Jager shoved the cane away. “Don’t threaten me, Thalius, else we might quarrel, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to have Kerrigan aware of what’s transpiring.”

  * * * *

  Thalius bent over and picked up a leather blindfold from the floor. Oh, yes, he remembered her, the young Enchanter who had apparently drowned, or at least it was how he had made it appear.

  He was surrounded by idiots. Nobody ever questioned him except Kerrigan, and that was useless because the other Counselors refused to act on Kerrigan’s suspicions. And soon, the Enforcer would be robbed of his chance to ever interfere with him again.

  Meeka was more powerful than anyone realized. Madget surprised him. He wondered why the old crone didn’t know who Meeka was. Once Thalius had Meeka under his control, he’d force her to make him young again, then, magically get them away from Enchantment and into a new realm with new possibilities. The little sorceress would be his pawn for all eternity and bestow unlimited power on him. Pretty as she was, he’d enjoy her for all he could until he’d drained her magic. Then he’d kill her.

  “It’s going to be an exciting week, Jager. Keep your pecker in your pants.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Meeka paced the confines of her room. Shadows crept across the floor. Her heart ached every time she thought of Kerrigan, so she forced herself to focus on something else.

  A chill settled as she contemplated Catz’s revelation. Was it the truth? Was she the daughter of some wizard? Why had her mother never said anything?

  She had so many questions to ask her mother. Meeka spent most of her time tryi
ng to think of Tethran, and not Kerrigan. It never worked for long.

  Stryker seemed to be locked to her hip, but Meeka welcomed the distraction, even if it did tax her patience. His furious pace in training proved a blessing. Too busy to focus on either Kerrigan or Tethran, Meeka welcomed the oblivion of exhaustion.

  Meeka figured Kerrigan had done it on purpose. They trained day in and out, for which Meeka was grateful. Exhaustion helped keep most of her thoughts at bay. It had been two days, and she hadn’t seen Kerrigan—not even once. Physical and mental exhaustion had left her feeling numb. She was in a dream-like state, not really in the present.

  Stryker advanced wielding the knife, which she blocked, but it caught her off guard. He spun away, hitting her thigh with his roundhouse kick. Her inability to move fast enough resulted in Stryker’s knife slashing deep into her forearm. When she screamed, Stryker dropped his knife and grabbed Meeka’s arm, which was bleeding profusely.

  “Damn it, Meeka! This is what happens when you aren’t paying attention. People get killed all the time when their guards are down. Shit!” He held her arm up, yelling, “Catz, grab the towel.”

  Catz bounded to them, the towel hanging from her jaws. Stryker ripped it into thin strips and began to wrap them around her arm.

  Whimpering in pain, Meeka turned her attention to Catz, who appraised the situation through narrowed eyes. Feeling she should offer some sort of explanation, Meeka pushed her hair back from her face and met his concerned gaze. “I’m sorry, Stryker. I wasn’t paying attention. I guess I’m just tired.”

  Stryker snarled. “Tired? You're tired? Meeka, you don't get to be tired. You and Kerrigan need to get it together. Someone is bound to get hurt if you don't.” Stryker rubbed a thumb over her jaw. “And between you and me, I'm not in a big hurry to feel the brunt of you-know-who's anger.”

  Turning from her, Stryker inhaled a deep breath, his roar filled with anger and concern. “Kerrigan, get your ass in here now!”

  Meeka protested, “Oh, no, please don’t call him. I’ll be fine, really.” She held up her hands, desperate to avoid the coming confrontation with Kerrigan.

  “This cut will not heal on its own. The bleeding will not just stop. Kerrigan can get his ass down here and heal it himself.”

  “Does he really need to come here? I…I don’t really want to see him. Please, just let me go and I’ll fix it myself.” She pushed him away.

  “Plant it, sweetheart,” Stryker seethed, pointing to the bench. “Look at the damn towel. It’s soaked in blood already. You’re going to pass out.” Stryker pointed to the bench again. “I won’t tell you twice Meeka. Sit. Now!”

  The air churned as Kerrigan’s large form materialized in front of Stryker. Venom rippled from every pore of his body. “Last time I checked, Stryker, you took orders from me. This had better be important.”

  “I’ve just about had it with you! I’m tired of this bullshit.” Stryker motioned toward Meeka. “When you two get your shit together, give me a call. Until then, you heal the mess you’ve caused.” The air snapped and sizzled as he vanished.

  Kerrigan turned toward her. His eyes locked on the pieces of towel soaked in her blood. “What the hell happened?” Kerrigan shouted.

  Refusing to give into the blurred vision closing over her, she forced her eyes to stay open. “Oh, now you care what happens to me? Funny—I don’t seem to believe the story, and if you knew what was good for you, you’d put me down right now.” She slurred, anger tingeing every word.

  “Put me down!” She writhed feebly in his arms, trying desperately to stay conscious. “Meeka, stop it. You’re about to pass out.” Before she knew what had happened, she was

  sprawled out on his bed. Her eyes were so heavy.

  Perhaps a small nap would be okay.

  Kerrigan spoke harshly. “Meeka, listen to me. I have to heal this cut. Don’t you dare resist me when you feel me enter your mind.” He shook her sharply. “Do you hear me?”

  Meeka could hear him speaking but he sounded so far away. Was he mad at her? She knew he wanted her to say yes to something, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Okay, Kerrigan.” She trusted him, but didn’t know exactly why.

  “Okay, precious, now you can close your eyes.”

  She didn’t need to hear it twice. Her eyes were already closed as she gave in to the darkness.

  * * * *

  Kerrigan swore profusely. This was his fault. He placed his large hands on her tiny face, framing her beauty. Tenderly, he placed a kiss on her lips and closed his eyes. His mind sought hers, looking to dispel any fears or resistance. He needed to concentrate to use his mind and energy to heal the nasty wound.

  He was shocked at what he discovered. What he found was exhaustion and a sore, aching body from head to toe, but nothing to compare to the pain she hid in her heart. He was responsible for the hurt he caused. It was almost too much for him to endure.

  Why did I think leaving her alone would be the best thing for her?

  His heart had been torn to shreds, and he knew his magic wouldn’t stop her anguish. Swiftly, he spread out through her body, finding the deep cut in her arm. He’d never allow anything to scar her perfect skin. The process was time-consuming, but he attached every damaged piece of tissue and muscle. The bleeding stopped as he retreated from her mind.

  With his eyes fully open, he looked down into her angelic face. She deserved so much. She deserved to be worshiped like a princess.

  Dried blood covered her upper body. Kerrigan waved his hand over her body, cleaning and removing all traces of dirt and blood. He placed her under the covers and lay down beside her, waiting for her to awaken. This time, he’d be with her when she woke up.

  The door to the bedroom flung open as Catz entered. Kerrigan’s head turned toward the intrusion. “Don’t you knock?”

  “No, I don’t. Not when Meeka’s been hurt.” Catz growled with anger. “Yes, she’s healed. I’ll stay with her until she wakes.”

  “What an idea! You’d think you could have tried at least once before.” Catz turned to leave. “I’ll be in the den.”

  “Don’t you ever feel fear?” His barb hit home; Catz paused in the doorway, her eyes meeting his with some understanding before she vanished into the hallway. He hadn’t meant to cause Meeka pain. The truth was, he’d been running from his feelings for her. It scared the crap out of him. It all just seemed so impossible. They weren’t meant to be together, and it hurt like hell.

  Kerrigan turned onto his side. Her skin was silkier than satin. Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. His body responded to her closeness. Unable and unwilling to forget, he closed his eyes remembering the taste of her mouth.

  It took every bit of his strength not to pull her into his arms. She needed rest.

  But God, I want her over and over again.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tortured, deep-throated, agonizing screams. Whimpers and moans, the crumpled figure in a corner, shoulders shaking with her sobs. “Mom? I hear you! Please don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay. Please stop, please stop it.”

  She was spinning, tumbling through a darkened tunnel, the stench of decay and rot strong in her nose. Suddenly, the brilliant colors of Enchantment skies shone down on her. Gargoyles flew overhead circling one larger, more powerful figure. Terror blanketed her. Oh God! It was the Enforcer, the dragon—Kerrigan.

  Lifting her palms to the sky, she sobbed. Red streaked through the sky, falling on her flesh, smearing in great, ugly swatches of destruction and death. Bodies upon bodies of dead gargoyles landed at her feet, and finally, the glorious dragon fell in a broken heap.

  No matter how she struggled, she just stood there, unmoving. Unfeeling. What had she done? Why did she do it? Her anguished scream filled the air, muffling the slithering chuckle behind her. “Kerrigan!” She screamed louder and louder, fighting to reach him, crawling over the dead gargoyle bodies. Every time she looked at his body, she found herself standing in
the same spot, her emotions shredding her with bitter self-recriminations. Meeka’s scream shattered everything around her.

  * * * *

  Kerrigan’s eyes flung open, and he caught her flailing arms. He spoke softly to her. “Meeka, it’s all right. Honey, wake up. It’s all just a bad dream. Come on, precious, you’re okay. Sshhh.”

  Meeka’s eyes flew open, and tears ran down her cheeks. Her arms desperately reached out, circling his neck and holding him tight. Sobs wracked her body.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please don’t cry.”

  “Bad…bad…dream.” She sniffled, clinging even more tightly to his warmth. “I’m…I was… terrible.” She continued to cry.

  He pulled her closer, whispering in her ear. “You just had a bad dream. There’s no way you’re terrible.” He kissed her tears away, his fingers trailing up and down her arm in a mindless motion.

  She shivered at his touch, awakening the slow, burning desire deep in his stomach. Biting his lip, he willed himself to stop his traitorous body from betraying her as he felt the heat gather and pool.

  Slowly, Meeka lifted her head, looking up into his eyes. Her next words shocked him. “I need you, Kerrigan,” she implored.

  “You’re not well enough.”

  Like a feather dancing over his skin, her fingers traced a path over his chest. Kerrigan knew he was lost.

  He needed her as much as she needed him. Her lips slowly and gently found his. They barely touched but the electricity arced. Nothing else existed except their hearts pounding together as one. Their eyes locked, and time stopped. Nothing would ever be the same again, and Kerrigan knew it.

  Passion exploded as their lips collided, each of them searching for something so deep, they would never be able to part from each other.

  * * * *

  Meeka pushed Kerrigan over and straddled his hips. She would never tire of this, of him. With a yank, she pulled his shirt off, and covered his broad chest with kiss after kiss. Desire engulfed them. She needed and wanted more. Her teeth grazed the flesh on his neck again and again.