Axel said, “Easy, man. I’ll have Darcy check on Carla.” He pulled out his phone.
Sutton realized he was holding his knife. He’d whipped out his knife before he’d fully regained his senses in the physical plane. The damned tattoo on his back was clawing and ripping.
Axel hung up. “Darcy said she can’t send you back to the astral plane, but she’s going to open her third eye and check on Carla.”
Sutton’s heart was pounding with fear and fury. He couldn’t make himself sheath his knife. Here he was fully clothed, and his erection had diminished to just semihard. But he could still taste Carla’s mouth and skin. Still smell her fragrance. Still feel the softness of her. Holy shit, he had never felt anything like her.
Incredibly, he hadn’t felt a trace of the curse.
“What happened to you?” Phoenix asked. “It’s like you checked out of your body. The lights were on but no one was home.”
He shifted to look at the leathered man knocking back a Coke. “Somehow Carla pulled me onto the astral plane with her.”
Key asked, “What happened with Asmodeus?”
He gripped his knife tightly. “There was a scream; it had to be her sister, Keri. She screamed the word no. Then Asmodeus exploded out of the ground. Carla begged her sister to help her. The next thing I know, I’m standing here with you.” She was there alone!
Ram stood quiet, a bit apart from the rest of them, his blue eyes taking it all in. Then he walked a circle around Sutton and stopped to face him. “Your back is bleeding.”
Key’s gray eyes lit up with interest and he prowled to Sutton’s back. “Take off your shirt.”
“I don’t give a shit about my back.” He glared at Axel. “What is taking Darcy so long?”
Axel narrowed his eyes in warning. “She’s working on it.”
He sucked in a gulp of air and self-control. As Darcy’s soul mirror, Axel could feel Darcy using her powers, just like a familiar would. She was just above them in Axel’s condo, and even from that distance, he funneled and focused her witchcraft. Sutton knew it, but he was too restless and agitated to wait. “I can’t believe Carla tossed me out just when she was in danger.”
“Curious,” Phoenix agreed mildly. “But dude, you’re starting to drip blood on the floor. That’s not cool.”
It did feel like his back was sliced up. Sighing, he sheathed his knife. Then he reached over his shoulder to grab a handful of his bloody shirt and yanked it off.
Key’s sharp whistle echoed in the empty club.
Phoenix said, “You got one pissed-off tat.”
Sutton looked over his shoulder. All four hunters were staring at his back.
Ram lifted his gaze to Sutton’s. “The eagle’s talons are ripping open your back. I’d suggest you think of something to calm it down.”
“I can see the claws slicing through from the inside, like it’s trying to get out,” Axel said. “That’s got to hurt.”
Sutton focused on the important thing. “Can you call Darcy?” He wasn’t trying to insult Axel’s witch, but he couldn’t just stand there waiting.
“She’ll call—” Axel’s phone rang and he answered with, “What d’you have, Darce?”
Someone pressed a damp towel to his back. But he didn’t care what the tattoo was doing to his skin. Instead he watched Axel’s face for some sign of Carla’s safety, but the man showed nothing as usual.
Axel hung up and said, “Carla’s okay. She only stayed a minute or two after you left. She’s back at the house. Darcy hasn’t talked to her yet, but she saw her leave the astral plane with her third eye.”
His knees damn near buckled in relief.
“Move the towel, Ram,” Key said.
Sutton felt the towel lift off of his back.
“Hmm,” Key said.
He was starting to get curious now that he knew Carla was back. He glanced at Key. “What?”
“As soon as you found out Carla was safe, the bird stopped ripping the shit out of your back.”
The implication took the air out of the club. All the men were silent. Was it possible?
“Your tattoo’s coming to life,” Ram added.
Key finally said what they were all thinking. “Carla’s your soul mirror.”
Axel jerked off his T-shirt. “Put this on and go.”
Sutton grabbed the shirt with a nod of thanks. They didn’t leave the other halves of their souls unprotected.
On the fifteen-minute drive, he was in a state, worried about Carla, and worried about her reaction to being his soul mirror. Once he arrived at the safe house, he bypassed the alarm and stormed inside, desperate to see her. He had wired the house himself and could bypass it anytime he chose.
He chose now. He’d better damn well find Carla alive and healthy on the physical plane, or he was going to do some serious ass-kicking.
What the hell had she been thinking? That demon bastard Asmodeus had found her, and the little witch had thrown his ass out of the astral plane to face the demon alone. It defied logic and proved to him that the witch needed a keeper.
Him.
He couldn’t breathe until he saw her. His chest was a tight band of strangling fear. He’d seen her sliced up once before … and it had nearly destroyed him then.
The thought of her dead left him … barren. The very idea of it made the skin of his tattoo feel numb and dead.
He hadn’t been this out of control, this wild, since he was seventeen years old. Since then, he’d perfected cold logic.
Until now. Until the witch doctor.
His excitement and worry rolled up and out of his chest in a bellow. “Carla!” He strode soundlessly across the tiled floor and was almost to the kitchen before his sense of smell halted him.
Cookies. Cookies?
He heard a clatter in the kitchen, then, “Get out! Stay away from her!”
A large glass bowl came flying at him. Followed by a cookie sheet, a mixing spoon, a carton of eggs, and a large mixer.
He dodged the missiles, unable to believe this shit. It wasn’t Carla, but it was a pissed-off witch. He could smell the spicy power in her blood as she hurled things at him.
“Hey! Stop it!” Carla’s voice thundered as she ran past him into the path of a large brown bottle.
Sutton grabbed her around the waist, turned, and shielded her with his body.
“Let go of me!” She swung her elbow into his ribs.
Sutton frowned. “That woman is a lunatic!” But a tiny lunatic, and if he tackled her, he’d probably hurt her. Then there was the whole witch problem.
“She’s my mother!”
“Mother?” Sutton slackened his grip around her waist. Mothers were something he had very little experience with.
Carla shoved out of his hold and turned to glare at him. “You scared her!” Then she pivoted on a bare foot and ran to the woman.
Sutton straightened up and noticed that Carla was wearing a short little robe the color of hot chocolate. It floated down to end at midthigh, leaving the rest of her legs bare. Her long hair was wet and tangled, soaking the satin robe. This woman was his, his to care for and protect and love. The idea of it took his breath away. Was it possible? Would she accept him? He’d been alone for so many years, and now his salvation, his partner, stood just feet away from him. If she would have him, he’d take her somewhere private, strip her to her skin, and—
“He’s a witch hunter!”
“I know, Mom.” Carla put her arm around the smaller woman’s shoulders. Then she lifted her free hand, and the broken pieces of the bowl rose, reassembled, and floated back to the kitchen. Followed by the spoon, the cookie sheet, and the mixer. Lastly, the broken, scattered eggs repaired themselves and went back to the egg carton. Then the carton floated into Carla’s hand.
Sutton had opened his mouth to assure Carla’s mom that he wouldn’t hurt them, but a sudden vibration rolled through him. Carla’s magic; it trembled through his body, much like a bass playing in his intestines.
Then it was gone, leaving the scent of two witches assaulting him. His veins started to burn, his temples throbbed. He concentrated on breathing and keeping the curse locked down tight.
Carla set the eggs down on the counter, then she looked at her mom. “Why don’t you go sit with Pam? Use the back hallway.” She tilted her head to the doorway that opened off the breakfast nook.
Chandra shook her head. “It’s too risky.”
Carla looked over at him, then back to her mom. “He’ll leave. Go wait with Pam.”
Her mom glared at Sutton, then turned, walked across the kitchen, and disappeared down the hallway.
He heard a door open and close. Her scent grew fainter.
Then Carla shifted to look at him. “What are you doing here?”
He opened his mouth, but what should he say? Being attacked by her mother threw him off his stride. Not that he’d actually had a plan … he’d just rushed right over here. Damn. Holding himself in place, fighting the growing urge to touch her, he blurted out, “You threw me out of the astral plane. You were in danger!”
Her face went tight. Leaning a hip against the bar, she said, “It was too dangerous. The astral plane is spiritual. You can’t fight physically like you do here. If you’d gone with your instincts, then Asmodeus could have gotten between me and you, and in doing that, he’d break the link between your spirit and your body. Then you’d be in a coma like Pam.”
He crossed his arms, trying to contain his roiling emotions. The bird tattoo seemed to react to his anxiety, shifting in his skin. “You could have told me that.” Did she think he wouldn’t understand? Sure, he didn’t have all her fancy degrees but he could grasp simple words. The impotent fury of not having been able to protect her beat at him. “Instead you threw me out.”
She straightened up, her elegant chin thrusting out. “I didn’t bring you there in the first place.”
“Of course you did. I’m not a witch. How else would I have gotten there?”
“Keri.” Her witch-glow dimmed, and her eyes filled with yellow pain. “I went to the astral plane to retrieve Pam, but when I got there, I wasn’t in control. I think Keri was.”
“How? How could a dead witch have that much power?”
She flinched.
Instantly, he remembered her thick grief buried in that scar. He was an ass, hurting the woman he was supposed to protect and care for. Dropping his arms, he said, “I’m sorry, that came out cruel. I meant—”
She cut him off, her expression bleak. “I can only guess. I’m still putting it all together, and I’ve asked Darcy to talk to the Ancestors to see what they know. But Keri and I shared power all our lives, and since her soul is still earthbound, under the right circumstances, she’s able to access my power. The astral plane has different rules, but Keri was in control. She wanted you there, and you were there.”
“You wanted me there.” He had to clench his fists at his sides to keep himself from taking her in his arms and proving it. Touch her, touch her, touch her. Make her yours. Claim her. The longing played through his head. But it was bittersweet. He wanted to touch her so badly, it made his fingers ache. But his blood was heating to a boil that made his skin hot and his head throb. A darker voice chanted, Cut her, get her blood. Look what she’s doing to you—taunting you! Cut her, cut her … He remembered his nightmares of killing her and held himself in check.
He could destroy the very witch who was his salvation.
Or she could destroy you, the voice of the curse reminded him.
He told himself to focus. “What happened after I was gone?” He had to know if that demon did anything to her. Hurt her.
She shivered, drawing her robe tighter, and stacking one bare foot on top of the other. “Asmodeus found Keri.”
“How?”
Her eyes were haunted as she explained. “Asmodeus saw Keri’s magical trail from me to the knife. He knows who has the knife she’s trapped in.” Her face bleached of color, her witch-shimmer muddied, and she shifted from foot to foot. “I couldn’t see the trail. I have to find her! Asmodeus can’t pull her into the underworld, but he can hide her, or make the rogue who has her kill over and over, torturing her. If I don’t find her …”
Every fiber of his body needed to protect her from danger and from pain. He longed to be able to touch her now, but he couldn’t risk it. Forcing his voice to stay calm, he said, “If you don’t find her, then what?”
She took a breath, visibly calming herself. “Asmodeus asked me if I was willing to go far enough to bargain with my soul.”
A screech ripped through his head. His tattooed wings burned and clawed his back, trying to break free. Every molecule of air he dragged in burned like he was breathing fire. “You won’t.”
“I…” Her voice trailed off into a gasp. “Sutton, you’re bleeding!”
He didn’t care. “Carla, listen to me, I’ll help you find the knife with your sister in it.”
She walked toward him. “That’s blood on your T-shirt! I can see it on your side.”
He backed up a step. “It’s just the tattoo. Forget it. Just swear you won’t deal with Asmodeus.” He couldn’t imagine Carla turning to demon magic, but he’d felt her grief for Keri. He knew how much she loved her sister, how desperate she was to free her soul. But at the cost of her own?
“Sutton, you’re hurt. What happened?”
Her lavender scent was swirling around him, filling him. Marking him as hers, and opening up a pit of yearning in his gut that only she could fill if he could just touch her. At the same time, the bloodlust began to shred his veins, desperate for the cool pleasure her blood would give him. It was insane, the conflicting needs rising in him.
“Take your shirt off. Let me see your back.”
“No.” Not a chance. If she touched him, would he yank her up to him and kiss her? Or pull out his knife and cut her? He couldn’t trust himself, and that made him an animal. He saw her take another half step and told her, “It’s the eagle tattoo. It’s coming to life.”
She halted, her mouth parting, then she sucked in her lips. “You’re getting wings like Axel?”
He snorted. “Mostly I’m getting my back shredded every time the tat thinks you’re in danger.”
She shook her head and fingered the edges of her robe. “He’s not coming to life for me.”
His eagle wilted heavily against his skin. Sutton knew how the stupid bird felt. What had they expected? Carla was elegant, refined, and educated, while he’d grown up with little formal education as a survivalist and a tracker.
She lifted her eyes. “Keri wanted me to touch your blood yesterday. Your blood is giving her strength. She’s bringing your eagle to life. Keri’s the one who loved eagles. She’s the one who insisted I find her eagle.”
It’s not me, it’s my dead sister? Was she serious? “I wasn’t kissing your sister. I kissed you. Both in my cabin and in the astral plane. You’re the one, Carla.”
She shook her head. “But I’m not like you, I don’t even like eagles.”
Getting pissed, he snapped, “I get it, Doctor. But I touched your blood two months ago, and you touched my blood yesterday. Remember? Blood and sex seal the bond. We’ve covered the blood part.”
Her face thinned with tension. “Well yes, but—”
He took the step toward her, his control slipping with every word she uttered. “You liked kissing me on the astral plane. Five more minutes, and I’d have been buried so deep inside of you, you’d forget other men existed. You’d be bonded to me. Or are you going to deny you wanted me?” He was being a jerk. The physical attraction was part of the complex blood and sex curse that halved their souls three decades ago. Carla had responded physically to him because he was the other half of her soul. But intellectually she didn’t want him.
Her face flushed. “It’s Keri! She’s projecting through me!”
He laughed. “Tell yourself whatever you want. It’s you. You’re my soul mirror.”
Her chest, th
ose perfect breasts he’d felt flush against his skin on the astral plane, rose and fell in a pant. “You don’t understand.”
“Enlighten me.”
She composed herself in seconds. “It’s the twin bond you’re reacting to. Keri claimed you,” she said softly.
He didn’t buy it. “I claim you.” He belonged to her. His eagle came to life for her.
She dropped her shoulders. “Even if that was true, I can’t risk it. If we had sex, if my soul bonded to yours and became whole … Keri might not be able to reach me anymore. She’d be alone.”
“Carla …” It was torn from him. He had to touch her. Ease her. Do something.
“Leave, Sutton. Please.”
He saw her strained face, felt her powers bubbling in agitation, and did as she asked.
For now.
It was late when Carla went into Pam’s room and sent her mom to bed. Chandra was tired and afraid. Sutton had her agitated enough that she’d burned her cookies.
For that alone, she’d never forgive him.
That made Carla smile. She had been working for hours. She’d gone by the Transitional Clinic to check on the residents, then she’d come home to do research to help Keri and Pam.
The Circle Witches were meditating and searching their witch books for any information on trapped souls and lost spirits on the astral plane.
She opened her laptop and was surprised to see Darcy on the screen. “Hey. Don’t you need to sleep?”
“I have something from the Ancestors.”
Her stomach tightened. “What?”
“They said it’s possible Keri is projecting through you and Sutton might be reacting to her. Being identical twins makes a lot of things possible.”
Her stomach emptied out, leaving her hollow. Desolation weighed down on her. The night he’d rescued her, when he’d touched her, she’d felt a bone-deep connection. She’d tried to tell herself it was some kind of hero-worship because he’d saved her. But it had been more, deeper. And then in his cabin and on the astral plane, she’d wanted to believe it was her that Sutton desired. Her he cared about.
It wasn’t.
She made herself answer. “I figured that.”
Soul Magic Page 8