by Lexi Ostrow
Her eyes shimmered for just a moment, his words clearly having a stronger effect than he’d thought possible. “And I would be honored to fight alongside you and Kellie should it come to it.” Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she shook her head and turned back to face the shopping show. “Now that we’ve gone all deep and probably made each other uncomfortable, let’s pick out something sparkly Dale can buy me without knowing it, and I’ll throw one in for Kellie!” Her grin spread from ear to ear, lighting up her face in a stunningly beautiful way.
Unable to stop himself, he smirked. “I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon than buying Kellie a present with Dale’s money.”
Chapter Fifteen
Snarling, he dropped onto the couch, doing everything in his power not to see if Hayley was visible. The last thing he needed was a distraction. However, that damned rift seemed to have other plans for him. He could practically feel some otherworldly force lifting his gaze, daring him to see if the human he couldn’t shake was there.
She wasn’t.
“Big fucking surprise. No one is where they fucking should be anymore.” He hissed, not that Hayley had to be a certain place. But others did.
In three weeks, he’d bounced from attack site to attack site in an effort to catch Demus, or whoever he’d sent on the attack. He’d lost two more warriors, men who had been far too young to depart the world but had because his brother was nothing but evil.
“I will find you, Demus. Mark my fucking words.”
He half expected his brother to flash in, but that didn’t happen. Demus had some sort of a cloak on him. They weren’t always available to one another, but he’d never tried to seek his brother out and failed. For weeks, he’d been trying to do what needed to be done – find a way to kill Demus. The prophecy would pick another leader, it had too. His brother was not impartial any longer. He was a problem and tipping the scales that ought never be touched.
“Huracan!” The God’s name blurted from his mouth before he’d even realized he’d said it.
Silence. Irritating fucking silence, just like every time he’d ever called the God forth. Well, had tried to call the God forth. Huracan refused to intervene, except to punish them when needed, when something reached his ears Trying to summon the God was as infuriating as trying to make his brother stop cheating. Demus had gotten away with hell for quite some time before Huracan had begun to take notice, and he could still feel the phantom wounds from his two punishments from the God.
But where had he been when Demus had gone fully off the god damn rails? Anywhere but there.
Sneering, he put in his hands over his face and sighed. He was doing everything he could to remain out of the fight, to guide and not interfere. But when one side was cheating, and the referee was blinded, sometimes the other player had to fight dirty.
“Fat lot of good that did you. You helped Alcott, and you still didn’t trust him enough to not send him packing to Dale. Four perfectly powerful players all crowded together because you want them to protect one another. Fighting dirty doesn’t suit you.”
It really didn’t. He was breaking rules, sure, but he wasn’t breaking the right ones. He wasn’t creating catastrophic events. He was just helping those who fought for him.
He tilted his head back, letting it touch the couch. The briefest movement caught his eye, and he looked forward into the void that showed Hayley’s work place. She was there. Dark curls haphazardly pinned back, more tumbling out than staying in the clip. She walked in with a tech, and it was obvious that they were friends by the way she placed her hand on his chest and laughed. The act was soundless, of course, but her posture told the story.
Jealously raged the moment his eyes saw her touch another man. Clenching his jaw tightly, he forced himself to breathe. He had no reason to be envious. She wasn’t a Word Speaker, and even if she were, she certainly wasn’t his to worry about. Still, as he watched her interact with the other man, he could feel every muscle in his body tense.
Whatever Hayley was or wasn’t did nothing to diminish the desire she sparked in him.
“It’s been too long. You need to get laid.” His prick seemed to agree, stirring to life at the mere thought.
Problem was that the image in his mind was distinctly Hayley — or how he pictured she would be, bare and laid out before him. Her skin was a shade darker than Kellie’s, a little more olive, but just as unblemished. Her figure was slender, smaller than her cousins and just how he liked women. A small growl passed from him as he imagined running his hands over her perfect breasts, round and puckered with need for his touch.
“You’re going to regret this,” he said to the air.
His cock responded by pressing firmly against his boxers, nearly digging into the zipper on his jeans. It throbbed, begging him to give into the need to pleasure himself. The last time he’d allowed himself to get lost in a fantasy, Demus had appeared and seen Hayley.
Could I risk that again?
He looked back at the tear in space, the viewing window that should not be possible, and groaned. Hayley was shaking out her dark curls, her breasts swaying underneath the plain lab coat as she did. He was gripping himself, rubbing a firm path through his jeans as his other hand worked the zipper down.
He could feel his breathing slow as he cupped his dick, gently tugging it through the hole in his boxers. He looked at Hayley, stared directly into her eyes and wished for half a second that she could see him. As his hand closed around his length, he began to stroke. Slowly at first, barely putting any pressure behind his grip as he imagined what a feather light touch she must have. Straining his neck, he tightened his grip and quickened his strokes. Over and over, he touched himself, picturing her hands on his staff and her mouth on his.
Uttering a grunt, he spent himself, not even bothering to open his eyes as he wiped his hand off on his jeans. Breathing deeply, he let the pleasure of the moment wash over him, ignoring thoughts of anything save for the haven that awaited him should he ever truly touch Hayley.
“Give it up. You can’t even speak your own fucking name let alone dream that you could figure out how you and Hayley are truly meant to connect.”
The moment ruined, he opened his eyes and put himself back in his pants, zipping up. He needed to make certain that no more attacks had occurred. It had been days, and that either meant Demus had realized his flaw, or he was biding his time.
“I know my brother, something is coming.”
With a decisive wave of his hand in the air to the left of where Hayley still sat, sixteen Guardian and Word Speaker pairs came into view. However, four were not on their feet.
“Fucking hell!” he snarled as he leaped up. “Huracan!”
As always, he refused to accept the silence and continued to shout for the creation God over and over again until his throat was raw from the effort.
***
“I’m kind of shocked you can’t do something of this nature,” Kellie said as she carefully unwrapped the red candles and quartz pendant she’d picked up from Michael’s. “I swore I read that you could do this.”
Alcott smiled thoughtfully back at her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he honestly didn’t know how to do the locator spell, or if he was simply being polite. She still wasn’t certain how they would be able to locate Demus if the brother in the trench coat couldn’t. But after nearly two months in hiding, she was ready to go home to New Orleans and more than happy to try anything to assist.
“My magic isn’t quite the same as yours. While I can most certainly locate someone, I think learning your way would prove to be more efficient for times when I do not have a personal link to the person I am searching for.”
He sat down on the plush couch next to Breena, who was watching with unfiltered fascination as Kellie placed one candle at each of the cardinal directions. Like Alcott, her magic was from within, not something that needed to be invoked, and she’d insisted she be present.
“I’m f
airly certain this could be considered cheating . . . but when in Rome,” she said with a shrug. Closing her eyes, she focused on the witch fire blazing to life off her fingertips before bending forward and lighting each of the candles. Taking a deep breath, she sat in the center of the small circle facing south, the position fire. She’d never practiced with a coven and having people watch her was strange.
Reaching for the small blade on the table, she winced as she cut a short path over the center of her palm and squeezed it over the southernmost candle. Not wiping the blood away, she picked up the chain and dangled the pendant over the flame, but didn’t allow it to touch.
“Spirit of fire, I beseech you. Find the man we seek.” As she continued to chant the request she pictured what she assumed Demus looked like in her mind. An image of the very sensual Ryce appeared but was soon twisted by a dark smile and golden eyes — based on Alcott and Breena’s description.
She continued chanting for what must have been five minutes, her frustration seeping into the spell and destroying her concentration. No image of Demus or his location appeared. She couldn’t even see Ryce as she’d assumed would happen since she did know him. Angrily, she dropped the pendant to the ground and wiped her palm on her jeans.
“Thank you, fire. Your blessings are no longer required.” She blew out each of the candles and grumpily pushed off her knees.
When she turned to face the couch, neither Alcott nor Breena appeared to be judging her, which only made her angrier. “I can’t do it,” she announced rather childishly as she dropped down next to Alcott. “Honestly, I don’t know why anyone even thinks me being a practicing Wiccan would have any importance. So I’m a little more open minded, it’s not like anything I can do holds up against what you all can do.”
Alcott put a hand on her knee, the warmth a soothing comfort.
“I don’t think it would be any different had any other person tried. You were here when Ryce . . . er, the brother, asked for your help. Whether you see your potential or not, every gift we wield has the ability to be what changes something in our worlds.” He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You are not worthless. You are talented and a warrior. In fact, it’s time to try the one thing we’ve never done before, the one thing I’m certain even Dale hasn’t been trained on because Ciara couldn’t do it.”
Kellie couldn’t ignore the flutter of butterflies in her stomach that Alcott’s kind words created, or the slight satisfaction at knowing there was something Ciara couldn’t do. What she had been afraid would have been a fast fall into love with her Guardian had steadily grown stronger. She knew in her heart that there would never be another like Alcott. Yet, she was afraid to tell him how she truly felt. Memories of his confession of love for Ciara still haunted her. She wasn’t ready for the sting of rejection, not when they were working so well together. Perhaps one day, but not yet.
“There’s something Dale can’t do?” Breena asked, obviously intrigued.
Alcott grinned and stood. “As far as I know, he can’t read thoughts. It’s not something I can do without the upmost concentration, and I was trained by my mom. She was one of the best.”
He had the far off look in his eyes that he always got any time he spoke of his books, and shook his head, dispersing the feeling he was giving off.
“Breena, would you be willing to demonstrate with me? I don’t think Kellie would trust me if I said she read my mind properly.”
That drew a laugh from her. “Yes, well, it’s kind of like when the man you’re dating says you look beautiful. You take it with a grain of salt.”
“I’m rather offended by that, minus the part where you just called me your boyfriend for the first time.” He gave her a playful wink. “Now, back to the task. Breena, are you good with it?”
Dale’s Word Speaker hesitated momentarily. “Can this cause damage? When I reach inside someone’s mind, I drain them.”
The thought hadn’t crossed Kellie’s mind until it was spoken aloud. Do you want to learn something that could cause more harm? Ever since she’d fallen into the world of Wicca things had been decidedly geared toward not causing harm. Even drawing blood during the locator spell hadn’t been necessary. Since she’d met Alcott, it had been apparent his magic was not the same. It wasn’t that he intended harm, it was simply that his magic had been made for the offense.
“Not at all. I mean, you run the risk of finding out information you would otherwise wish to not know of, but there is no physical or mental danger.” Alcott sounded slightly miffed at the idea that he would ask to do something that could harm her.
“Okay. So just think of something you two couldn’t possibly know?”
“Correct. Don’t focus on it or anything, just create the memory-thought once and move on. Nod when you’re thinking about something different.” After a brief pause, Alcott continued. “I’ll go first without an explanation, simply to show what can be done.”
Kellie watched and noticed that Alcott did not look as if he were concentrating any harder than before. In fact, it appeared as if he were hardly paying attention at all. Shifting her attention to Breena, she wasn’t shocked to see that the woman wasn’t disturbed and clearly couldn’t feel anything strange happening.
“Your favorite animal is the fox,” Alcott said finally.
Breena grinned and let out a whistle. “My, that is impressive. How did you figure out that was the most recent thought?”
“Simple, I looked for the most recent memory. It’s not always that simple. Sometimes, you are left searching for hours as I could have been when looking for Ryce’s name before he changed it. I thought something simple to start with would be fine. Not like I was trying to impress anyone.”
“Didn’t matter. I can’t believe that’s actually a thing.” Kellie said, unsure if she wanted to try.
“It’s your turn now,” Alcott said with a warm smile before turning back to Breena. “I want you to do it again. Another recent thought and then move onto the next thing.”
“Well, you lot are certainly going to think I’m boring. That was a terrible thought,” Breena joked.
“Okay, your turn, Kellie. The trick is to picture yourself inside a hallway, a maze or anything else that has many twists and turns to navigate through. See yourself walking through it. The first door in this instance is the one you want. Picture yourself opening it, and what you seek will appear.”
“Here goes nothing,” she muttered under her breath before closing her eyes. Alcott hadn’t seemed to put much effort into it, but she wanted to be as focused as possible.
Inhaling deeply, she blew the breath out slowly and tried to picture herself inside a hallway. It was easy enough. A brightly lit, white-walled hall appeared, complete with hundreds of doors. Okay, Kells, easy peasy open the door. Instantly, her hand appeared in her mind and twisted the doorknob.
But nothing happened.
She could feel her forehead furrow as she twisted again. “Nothing is happening.” She growled in irritation.
“Good. I mouthed to Breena to focus on blocking that thought, which means she did what was needed. Don’t get frustrated, yet. Breena, unblock that thought.” A moment passed. “Try again.”
Sighing, Kellie focused, pushing herself back into the imaginary hallway. She looked at the first door and noticed it appeared a bit brighter. Once more, she grabbed the knob and twisted. She jerked the knob twice before imagining a foot kicking out at it. Her eyes flew open on a snarl. “I can’t fucking do it.”
“What happened? Let me try to help?” Alcott was calm and levelheaded, everything she was not.
“It was still locked. I pushed, I twisted, and I even kicked. It wouldn’t open.” She darted her gaze to Breena. “Sprites are tricky, were you still blocking?” Her tone was more than accusatory.
“Watch your tone, human. I did nothing of the sort. Though I appreciate that you know my background, despite us never having spoken on it.” Breena’s hazel eyes softened. “I am
sorry. Alcott had said it was tricky, and I can assure you Dale can invade dreams to steal energy, but he cannot read minds.”
Defeated yet again, she dropped down onto the couch. “I don’t want to whine, but knowing there is something more I can be doing, but can’t do . . . it’s irritating.”
Alcott chuckled and quickly stifled the laugh. “We will have plenty of time to learn. For now, let’s call it a valiant effort and give Breena and Dale a night off from cooking. I don’t know where he’s off to, but I bet he’d like a bit of Cajun cooking.”
He knew precisely what to say to lift her foul mood. She could feel the smile tugging at the corners of her lips as the bad mood began to fizzle out. “Fine, but only because I miss New Orleans more than you could possibly imagine.”
“Sweet! Dale never uses his world walking gifts to take me anywhere! I’ll just go make myself scarce, so I don’t get in the way.” Breena practically whooped as she left.
“Okay, witch boy, are you ready to see if you can cook as good as you can do magic?”
Chapter Sixteen
Alcott stretched, trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep. Turning, he smiled as he saw Kellie still slumbering beside him. You never thought you’d get here, he mused as he stroked a hand gently over her hair, smoothing down some of the sleep induced tangles. He knew the intimacy of the action spoke volumes about how much he had already fallen for his Word Speaker. He also knew he needed to tell her but wasn’t certain when. Never having said it to another person made deciphering something like that difficult.
Kellie had basically been open and upfront from the moment they’d met, when she’d thought you were delusional or an actor. He smirked at the thought. She had taken at least ninety percent of the emotional first steps for them. He didn’t want that to be the case. Kellie was special, in so many more ways than just the ability to be a Word Speaker.