Soul Magic

by Jennifer Lyon

  “What the fuck!” Styx stumbled back against the wall of the barn—as if he’d been shocked. He glared around the barn. “You’re going to pay for that.” He shot up to his full height and curled his mouth into that creepy smile. “Oh, yeah, you’re going to pay, right about now.”

  The eagle screeched in her head, followed by Sutton’s voice in her mind saying, “Shit, the rogues found us!”

  Once Sutton had felt Carla’s magic bloom bright and vivid in his guts, he’d risen from between her legs, and lifted her into his arms. The intensity of her power told him that she’d opened another chakra, and that she was doing something important. His own arousal kept ramping up as her magic streamed through him.

  He didn’t mind. Sharing in Carly’s magic was intimate and so damned sexy. He kept her calm, rubbing her neck, stroking her hair, letting her know she was safe. He would keep her safe while she did what she—

  His cell phone beeped an alarm. Shifting Carla in his arms, he grabbed his phone and checked the screen. The sensors around the property had been breached. He switched to the camera views. He couldn’t see what was tripping the alarm with the regular camera and he hadn’t installed infrared at this house. The fact that his cameras couldn’t see the intruders meant one thing. Shit, the rogues found us. They were approaching with their invisibility shields. He sent a 911 to the Wing Slayer Hunters.

  “What?” Carla’s voice was full of worry.

  “Get dressed. Rogues.”

  Her face was flushed, her pupils were large and swollen from so much magic. But she stood, lifted her hands, and was instantly dressed. Then she turned to him and said, “What do I do?”

  His phone beeped a response from Axel that they were on their way. “Get in the room with your mom and Pam. Both of you seal the door and window with your magic.” It would slow the rogues down, but it wouldn’t stop them. He shoved his phone in his pants and pulled out his knife. With his other hand, he was already walking Carla to the door.

  “My dad—”

  “No time. I’ll try to get to him.” He looked down into her eyes, saw the hazel colors filled with yellow worry. “I just have to hold them off until the other Wing Slayer Hunters get here. We’ll be okay.”

  Carla’s face was pale and tight. “Right.”

  Sutton watched her fight down her fear and deal. And she thought herself a coward? He moved in front of her, opened the door, and checked the hallway. He could hear faint movement outside the house and coming closer. Pulling Carla out, he hurried to the next room, opened the door, and pushed her inside. He took in her mom and Pam’s surprised expressions but there was no time for explanations.

  “My dad,” Carla said softly.

  “I’ll get him.” Sutton pulled the door closed. He drew up his pant leg and grabbed his gun so that he was armed with his knife in his right hand and his gun in his left. Then he hurried out of the hallway to cross the family room to the small office.

  A series of explosions rocked the house. He heard glass breaking, caught the acrid scent of gasoline and then the whoosh of flames.

  Fire. They were shooting in gasoline-soaked rags to force them out of the house to pick them off.

  The family room couch exploded in flames.

  Jerome raced out of the office. “Fire!”

  Carla ran out of the hallway and said, “Dad, I got this. Go in the room where Pam is. Protect Mom.” She turned and aimed her magic to the couch, putting the fire out. Then she leaned into the office to douse the flames that had taken hold of the drapes in there.

  Sutton was torn between wanting her safe and the hard reality that they needed the fires extinguished or they’d be forced from the house and killed.

  “They’re out,” she said.

  A warning crawled up the back of his neck. “Hurry, get back in—” Too late. He shoved Carla into the office behind him as at least a dozen rogues poured in through the the sliding glass door and through the windows. Sutton aimed his gun and fired, dropping four in rapid succession.

  Another one got a shot off.

  He heard Carla’s gasp.

  His eagle screeched. Rage burst in his head, and instinct took over. Nothing mattered but his mate. He stabbed the rogue sidling up on his left, he emptied his gun into a few others, then tossed it and snapped his wrist so a blade slide down from his leather band into his hand. He threw it dead center into another rogue’s heart. He was moving so fast, it was hard for the rogues to get close enough to get a bead on him. But he never left an opening for the rogues to get through the door to Carla.

  He heard more rogues pouring in, then the sound of fighting in the backyard that told him Axel had arrived.

  All that mattered was keeping Carla alive.

  Sutton threw another blade and kept fighting, ignoring the injuries piling up on him.

  Then Brigg shoved aside a rogue, and aimed a .45 at Sutton’s chest.

  He threw his knife.

  Brigg danced aside and with cold hatred in his blue eyes, sighted the gun on Sutton and began to squeeze the trigger.

  Sutton couldn’t move, if he did, the bullet would go through the doorway and could hit Carla. Axel had fought his way inside but he was too far away. Sutton had to believe that Axel would protect Carla if he died. His thoughts were lightning-quick as he calculated how best to keep her alive …

  There was a movement in the hallway behind Brigg. Linc burst in, leaped over dead bodies, and slammed into Brigg’s back.

  The gun went off before the two landed on the ground.

  The bullet tore into Sutton’s side. Damn, that burned. He held his position as Linc and Brigg rolled on the ground. Snapping his wrist, he dropped a blade into his hand, ready to kill.

  “No,” Axel said.

  Sutton eased back in response to the command and surveyed the area. He didn’t see any other living rogues, so he watched.

  Linc threw an elbow into Brigg’s throat, and Brigg doubled up, choking and gagging. Using the distraction, Linc rolled on top of him, sat up, and shoved his knife into Brigg’s heart. He rose, his blade dripping, and growled, “I wanted to see your traitorous face when you died and went shade. You could have used that knife to kill yourself, you didn’t have to kill the witch. You didn’t have to go rogue.”

  Everyone was silent out of respect for the hard choice that Linc had made.

  Then Carla broke the silence. “You’re bleeding,” she said as she slipped up beside Sutton, her hand reaching for the wound in his side.

  Sutton turned out of her reach and looked her over. “Were you hit?”

  She shook her head, her hazel eyes wide. “Is it over? Let me see to your wounds.”

  “Later, we have to get out of here.”

  Ram walked in. “Clear outside.”

  Axel inclined his head in acknowledgment and said, “Let’s go to the warehouse.”

  “We can’t,” Carla said. “My mom will incite the bloodlust in the hunters, and I don’t know, maybe I still will, too.”

  Ram shook his head. “Nope. Not sure if you recognize me, I’m Ram. And all I’m getting from you is the scent of a witch, but no spike in the bloodlust. Your mom, though, I can smell her and you’re right.”

  “My cabin. We’ll go there and videoconference.”

  “Sutton”—Axel crossed his arms, his eyes glittering with determination—“you have responsibilities. Linc made his test and we’ll do the Induction Ceremony tonight. You will be there.”

  Blood was running down his side, seeping into the waistband of his pants and irritating the crap out of him. He had a couple gashes on his forearms, but the rogues who had done that were now shade, so he was good. “Carla and her family come first.”

  “Sutton!” Carla said.

  He turned to look at her, saw her pale face. “I’m not leaving you vulnerable to satisfy Wing Slayer’s ego. Not a chance. He and that demon Asmodeus are battling for power and we’re paying the price. I am sick of this shit.” He could have lost her. He didn’t ev
er talk about it, but yeah, he remembered his mom walking out that door and leaving him. Because his god hadn’t had enough power to prevent a demon from throwing a curse that had the ability to turn him into a soulless monster.

  And Wing Slayer hadn’t done a goddamned thing. Nor had the god lifted a finger when his uncle lost the battle with the curse and his father had to kill him. Or when his dad was so close to turning, he’d flown his airplane into the side of a mountain.

  He’d fight the rogues and do the shit he could to win against the demon, but if it came to a choice, protecting Carly or serving Wing Slayer? No contest.

  “He’s not going to take her away from you,” Axel said.

  Sutton looked at his friend and leader. “Damn right.” He took Carla’s arm. “Let’s get your folks and Pam. My house is isolated enough, the rogues won’t get the drop on us.”

  Axel got in his face. “Don’t insult us. You got a problem with Wing Slayer, you’d better work it out. But don’t you dare insinuate that we would allow harm to come to Carla.”

  That brought him up short. He was jacked up from fear for Carla, the fear that he might not have the ability to fully protect her, and acting like an ass. He looked into Axel’s furious eyes. He stood down, letting his shoulders ease and reining in his anger. “I crossed the line there.”

  Axel stepped back. “I’ll meet you at your cabin, we’ll videoconference with the others from there.”

  Sutton felt a twist of shame. Axel was going to his cabin as added protection. “Thanks.”

  Axel reached out and clapped his shoulder in acknowledgment, then turned to deal with the mess.

  “Sutton, you’re bleeding too much. Let me heal you.”

  He wasn’t going to let her take any pain, but now wasn’t the time to argue. “Later. We have to get your mom, dad, and Pam, and get to safety.”

  Sutton should have known she’d be difficult.

  Carla put her hands on her hips, her long hair swaying around her blood-stained shirt. She wasn’t hurt, she’d been trying to heal him, and he kept taking hold of her wrists, gently, and moving her away. His blood had gotten on her hands and now on her shirt.

  Exasperated, she said, “Sutton, if you don’t cooperate, I’ll pull you onto the astral plane and put you to sleep. Then I’ll heal you.”

  He was standing at the sink in the bathroom connected to his bedroom, wiping up the blood and trying to fashion oversize butterfly bandages to close the eight-inch gash in his side from the bullet. His side burned every time he moved, so his temper was getting short. He didn’t need Carla badgering him. “Don’t be stupid. You’ll leave both our bodies unguarded.”

  Axel snorted as he walked into the master bedroom with Carla’s suitcase. He tossed it on the bed and said, “Unguarded? What am I, a helpless mortal? I can kick your ass while drinking a beer.”

  Sutton had put Pam and Chandra in the second bedroom next to the master, and Jerome could sleep on the couch in the living room. Carla would sleep with him. “Damn it,” he muttered as another gush of blood made him lose his hold on the torn skin.

  “Stupid.” Carla glared at him. “I should just leave you like this!” She started to turn around.

  “Carla, what are you yelling about?” Her mom walked into the bathroom.

  So much for his privacy. Sutton looked up at Chandra and said, “She wants to heal me. I told her no and she’s being stubborn.”

  “Me?” Carla practically screeched. “You’re the one bleeding all over the place!”

  “Enough, both of you,” Chandra said, her voice stern.

  Sutton jerked his gaze up, and the eagle in his back burrowed deeper into the tattoo. The little coward was hiding.

  Chandra said, “Why won’t you let Carla heal you?”

  He realized he could get her on his side. “It’ll hurt her too much. She healed me when I was burned, and the pain tore holes in her witch-shimmer.” He shuddered at the memory.

  “I see. Well then, Carla and I will do it together. We can siphon off the pain quicker that way, and we’ll hardly feel it.”

  He stared at Carla’s mom. Why would she do that? “Ma’am, I heal fast. The wound won’t slow me down if we’re attacked again.”

  “Ah,” Chandra said. “So it’s okay for you to get shot protecting me.”

  He didn’t know where she was going with this, or why Carla was standing next to him looking smug. He knew it was a trap but he couldn’t see how. “Yes. Carly loves you, you’re her mother.” He knew mothers were important. He wasn’t that much of a hick.

  “And you’re her mate. Isn’t that correct, Sutton?”

  Trap, trap, trap! But he still didn’t understand it. “Yes.”

  “Then that makes you important to us. Like a son.” She smiled at him. “I never had a son. But I can assure you that if I did, he wouldn’t argue with me. Now stand still.”

  He stood frozen to the floor. Both women closed in on him. Carla laid her hand on one side of his wound, Chandra on the other.

  Carla’s power unfurled inside of him, and heat centered on the big ugly gash. Looking down, he saw both their small hands emitting a pale light. He could see the edges of the cut coming together and mending.

  He gathered Carla’s hair up in one of his hands and pulled it back to see her face. Her silver witch-shimmer dulled a little bit, so marginally that he had to look hard to see it. She was breathing fine, and seemed okay.

  He looked at her mother. She had her head down, obviously concentrating. Her hair wasn’t straight like Carla’s, but it had a soft wave to it. Did he dare touch her? Just so he could see her face and make sure she was okay? But he had to know if she was hurting, Carla wouldn’t like her mother being in too much pain. He reached out and pushed her hair back.

  She had a witch-shimmer of soft peach. He had no idea why, but the color looked okay. Her face didn’t look overly stressed.

  And his pain was easing.

  “Carla, stop, so I can see,” Chandra said.

  Carla shifted her hand around his back and stroked his bird.

  The eagle evidently decided it was safe and lifted his feathers at her touch. The dumb animal preened happily. Chandra studied the wound.

  “It’s closed,” Sutton said, feeling unsure of what to do. “Uh, thank you.”

  Chandra looked up. “You’re welcome.” Then she stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek.

  The small peck on his face went straight to the part of his heart he’d thought long dead—the part his mother had trampled on her way out of their lives. He had the urge to hug Chandra … like he might hug his own mother. But he kept his hands at his sides.

  She stepped back and said, “I’m glad you’re okay. Now be good and let my girl take care of you.” She turned and walked out.

  But he was supposed to take care of her. That was his job, his reason for living. Taking care of Carla and those she loved. She’d saved his soul. Made a choice that no one should ever have to make. These witches were confusing as hell.

  Carla lifted her free hand and used her powers to close the bathroom door. Then she lifted his left arm and laid her fingers lightly across the knife wound there.

  He shifted his gaze to her and felt his heart swell and ripple. He loved her. He wanted to take care of her. Make her happy. Her magic was a gentle spray working through him, but the arousal exploded, his dick going hard and ready in mere seconds. His gut cramped with the need to be inside of her, to feel her magic and strengthen the bond between them.

  “Carly.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling her silky hair and begged for mercy. “Please, baby. Please stop.” He could barely speak, the drive to mate with her was coursing through him. Her scent was burgeoning, getting richer with desire. He had to get himself under control.

  She lifted her eyes.

  He forgot to breathe. The blue ring, the one that he wasn’t sure anyone else could see, was smoky. “Water,” she said.

  A second later, the water in his shower
burst on and steam started filling the bathroom. Their clothes magically disappeared. Something deep and unspoken was happening between them.

  People were in his house.

  He didn’t care.

  He lifted her in his arms, and strode to his oversize shower. The fear he’d been barely controlling since he’d first heard the warning beep on his phone grabbed him now.

  He could have lost her. She could have been hurt or slaughtered. He didn’t have wings, and therefore, hadn’t had the ability to get her out of there when they were attacked. Pulling her closer, feeling her skin against his, he stepped into the walk-in shower done in earth-colored tiles and spraying warm, pulsing water from multiple jets.

  “Sutton, put me down. I want—”

  The image flashed in his mind. Carla on her knees, her soft hair sliding over his hips and thighs as she sucked him. Oh yeah, he wanted that, but not now. “I need to—” Her beautiful, amazing eyes cut him off.

  “I see it,” she said, her unfocused gaze shifting colors hypnotically. “You want to come inside me.” She laid her hand on his biceps. “Hurry.”

  Her breathless voice urged him on. He could feel her need rising to meet his. The water pulsed on their heads and backs while steaming the shower into a world where there was only the two of them. He moved his hand under her sweet butt and grasped the back of her left thigh. “Hold on,” he grunted, praying he could go easy, not hurt her.

  She clamped her hands on his shoulders.

  He shifted her, getting a grip on her right thigh. The steam was swirling thickly around them, but he could see her, see her face flushed and her bright eyes. “Your shimmer is filling with gold.”

  She smiled.

  He pulled her thighs apart, going slowly, his cock leaping and jerking with excitement. Then he lowered her, until the head touched her folds.

  Jesus. It was too much, he wanted her so badly. Slow, easy. He pressed against her slit.

  She tightened her thighs around him. Don’t hold back!

  He heard her clearly, and leaned down, taking her mouth. I’ll never hurt you. He eased inside her, sliding the head of his cock into her and shuddering.