Warrior Enchanted

by Addison Fox

  “You’re sort of a good guy, Grey Bennett.” Finley thought about that soul-searing kiss in his office the night of the warehouse sting.

  You’re also the most compelling man I’ve ever met.

  “Don’t paint me out to be a hero, Finley. You’ll only meet with disappointment.”

  She cocked her head at that, and for the first time since their little adventure began, she felt like she might have the upper hand. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Besides, you’re a puzzle and I’ve never been able to stay away from those.”

  “If you really want to work through a puzzle, we need to figure out who’s running information in the DA’s office.”

  “You’re avoiding my questions.”

  “No, I’m really not,” Grey muttered as he got up to grab another cup of coffee. “I just prefer to focus on questions that have actual answers.”

  “You want me to do what?”

  “Fire at me.”

  Emerson stood beside the pond out behind the farmhouse, squishing in the mud along the banks in a pair of rubber boots as she tried to make him see reason. Drake stood hip deep in the water wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.

  “Drake, you may be in the water, but I’ll hurt you. You saw what it did to Magnus. He looked really uncomfortable.”

  “I’m not asking you to napalm me for ten minutes. I just want you to have a go at me.”

  “But it’s going to hurt.”

  “You said that already. Come on, Emerson, just do it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, woman. Pretend you’re mad at me or something.”

  “I’m telling you, I can’t do it.”

  “Sure you can. Pretend I’m asking you not to leave my bed, darling.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him, but the barb stuck. “That’s not fair.”

  “Oh. And it’s fair of you leave me lonely and unfulfilled each and every night when you sneak home?”

  Lonely and unfulfilled?

  Seriously?

  “That’s a lie and you know it.”

  He clutched at his chest. “My body may be sated, but my heart never will be.”

  “Asshole.”

  “I thought I was a horny bastard.”

  “You’re that, too.”

  “Come on and hit me.” He cocked his head. “Or are you afraid?”

  “And those would be the magic words, Ace.” She pulled on the fire, let it course through her body and fill her up. Extending her hands, she let go with a stream straight at his chest.

  He let out a loud grunt, but stood still and took it.

  Unlike the day before, when she’d felt like she had a flamethrower at the ends of her hands, the fire was back to its old strength. It was steady but didn’t have the same potency. She dropped her arms, pulling back on the power. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You look like you’ve got a sunburn.”

  “You can kiss it and make it all better.” He sank lower in the water. “Okay. I’m going to let my tat out and I want you to do it again.”

  She stumbled at that, almost losing her footing. “You can let it out?”

  “Sure.”

  “But it’s not an animal.”

  A small, affronted look flashed across his face as he narrowed his eyes. “Fish are animals.”

  “I mean it’s not a land animal. Like Kane’s scorpion or Quinn’s bull.”

  “Which does make it a little less effective in hand-to-hand combat. Lucky for me, I can do also a few tricks with any available water at hand. I’ll have you know I’m hell on fish tanks.”

  The overwhelming feeling of being off-kilter again struck her, along with how good it felt to just stand there and banter with him. Despite all her internal protests about what a bad idea it was for the two of them to couple up, she couldn’t ignore one simple fact, no matter how hard she tried.

  She enjoyed spending time with him.

  “Okay. By all means, release the hounds.”

  One dark brow arched above that greenish gold, but he didn’t say anything, just sank himself chest deep in the water. A light splash sounded as the fish hit the surface of the pond and began swimming around him in a circle.

  “You’re really doing that?”

  “Yep.”

  “I mean, you’re controlling it.”

  “Pretty much.”

  She moved in closer, fascinated to see the bright, beautiful scales as the fish swam in a continuous circle around his body. “But that’s the interesting part. Magnus couldn’t control his.”

  “It’s early in his powers. He probably doesn’t know how yet.”

  “You have to learn it?”

  “Well, yeah. It’s like any other new thing. You have to take time to get used to it. To adjust and learn what you can do. I still figure out new tricks from time to time.”

  The fact they were even having this conversation was surreal, but when she focused on what he was actually saying, she had to admit Drake had a valid point. Despite coming in to her powers at an early age, there were still things she learned. Ways to conserve her energy and expand what she was doing. Even the night before, when she’d realized that touching him harnessed her strength, it was a moment of growth with her gift.

  “So Magnus is vulnerable right now because he’s still figuring it all out?”

  Drake nodded, his gaze sparking with awareness as he picked up on her line of questions. “I’d say yes, although he’s not to be underestimated. That snake’s awfully powerful. And the poison can do some damage. Beheading is the only way to kill an immortal, but poison is nasty in its own right.”

  “Like Kane,” Emerson added, remembering.

  “Exactly.”

  “But if we could get to Magnus soon enough—” She let the thought hang there, unfinished, as images of her brother through the years flew through her mind. Magnus’s problems had started long before he was turned into…whatever he was. This new development only added to an existing problem.

  Her gaze dropped to the fish that still swam in circles around Drake.

  Maybe they could get to her brother soon enough. But if they couldn’t, they needed to understand the power they had at their disposal.

  “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

  Drake hesitated briefly, before pointing to his chest. “Try the fire again.”

  Pulling on the flames, she let the fire stream from her fingers, again aiming for the center of his chest. She nearly dropped her arms when she saw one of the fish leap out of the water and block the fire.

  He grinned but waved his fingers in a come-hither motion. “Don’t stop.”

  Focusing again, she pushed more power into the flame, trying to harness it into a tight stream of heat. She saw him wince when she made contact with his chest, then nearly dropped it again when one of the fish leaped up and knocked back the flame.

  “How are you doing that?”

  “I’m using the power in my aura to push back on the flames.”

  “But it’s not burning you through the fish.”

  “Nope.”

  “But it did burn Magnus.” She let another stream fly, focusing every thought into it. Another shiny flash of scales, and the flame cut off.

  “He hasn’t figured out how to protect himself yet.”

  “You’re really doing that.”

  “I could say the same thing about you.” With gentle movements, Drake reached forward and took her hands, pulling her forward. She felt the mud at the bottom of the pond suck at her boots, but still she moved ahead.

  Unerringly forward.

  When they were close enough, Drake lifted one of her hands and pressed his lips to her palm. “It’s inside you. This amazing power.”

  The underlying awe in his voice touched something inside of her and Emerson felt a tight knot she didn’t know she carried untie from the very depths of her soul. His acceptance—and celebration—of who she was mattered.

  H
e mattered.

  Waves of sensation coursed through her body, hard and pulsing, as his breath feathered over her palm and down her wrist. “How is it possible?”

  He pressed his lips again and added the slightest flick of his tongue. “How’s what possible?”

  She wanted to ask him how he beat back the fire, but all she could concentrate on was them. On the fire that consumed them both with a magic unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

  The hot sun beat down on her back as her nipples beaded in the exquisite sensations brought on by his mouth. Such a simple touch—just his lips on her palm—but…so amazing…so…How could he pull such incredible feelings?

  “How do you do that?” The words came out on a heavy sigh as she felt her eyelids droop.

  “You mean this?” He pulled her closer, lifting her hand so that he brought her fingers to his lips. With aching slowness, he took one into his mouth, drawing heavily with his tongue.

  The suction tugged at every part of her, from her sensitized nipples to the hot warmth at the apex of her thighs.

  “Drake?”

  He pulled harder with his mouth and used his other hand to pull her flush with his body. The thin material of his shorts couldn’t hide his heavy erection, and she felt another answering tug in her core.

  “I want you.”

  They stumbled out of the water and across the yard, a set of fluffy deck chairs on the back porch their destination. Drake had them across the yard in moments, his lips fused to hers. She pulled on his neck, ready to drop into the chair when he stopped her.

  “No. Wait.” She stood there, puzzled when he dragged the reclining lawn chair off the porch and into the yard.

  “What?”

  “Lay down.” He was already tugging on the thin material of her tank top. The warmth of the rare Indian-summer day bathed their bodies and she reveled in the sun that streamed over her naked skin.

  He made equally quick work of her shorts, then gently pushed her back on the thick cushions of the sunbathing chair. Before she could catch her breath, he was kneeling before her, his hands on her thighs.

  “I want to look at you.”

  “Drake.” She wanted to be embarrassed—wanted to shy away from the dark desire that filled his gaze—but all she felt was an answering need. On a nod, she opened for him and nearly had her first orgasm as he looked his fill.

  “You are so beautiful.”

  She wanted to protest, almost did, when he stopped her with a smile. “You’re gorgeous, so shut up and enjoy it.”

  And then there were no more words as his mouth came down on the absolute center of the fire that coursed and pulsed between them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought she might have screamed as his mouth took possession of her body.

  With long, wicked strokes of his tongue he drew and drew, pulling her just to the edge of peak before he retreated, forcing her to wait.

  Forcing her to need.

  “Drake!”

  The use of his name drove him harder, the same dragging suction he’d used on her finger now at the very epicenter of her pleasure.

  A light breeze coursed over her, adding to the sheer bliss of the moment as it caressed her sensitized nipples. His large palms ran over her thighs as he lifted her legs and pulled them over his shoulders and his mouth…

  His glorious mouth continued that endless, beautiful, life-affirming assault as he wrung sensation after sensation from her body. The breeze blew again, and as it bathed her already sensitive skin, her body crested, shattering.

  She screamed his name and knew it carried lightly on the afternoon wind.

  “Tell me again why you think this is a good idea?”

  “Since I’m full of them today, you want to tell me why you think it’s not a good idea?”

  He reveled in the light blush that crept up her neck and wanted to tease her again—wanted to taunt her with the sexy memories that were imprinted on his body—but was drawn back to the road when his Roadster hit the fifth pothole of the drive.

  “You said your sister lives up this way, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So maybe she knows some things about your brother that you don’t. Maybe he’s come to see her.”

  “Drake. Just because she and I aren’t close doesn’t mean she wouldn’t have told me if she’d seen him in the last four years. She knows he’s been gone. Besides, we could have just called if all we wanted was the answer to a few questions.”

  Hesitation was woven through every word she spoke. “You sure that she’d call?”

  “Well. Yeah.”

  “Then humor me and consider this a nice, friendly visit with the family. You can do some catching up and get a read on her body language when you ask her about Magnus.”

  “It’s not a reunion, Drake. We’re not those sort of people.”

  He turned to look at her profile. Her neck was ramrod straight as she stared out the windshield. “Okay, I’ll bite. What sort of people are you, then?”

  “The fight while we prep the potato salad sort of people, who end up fucking up the day before it even starts with said fight and pouting in the car on the way to the reunion.”

  “Wow. There’s a whole lot of baggage in that one.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “It sounds like a far cry from the ice cream.”

  For a moment, Drake was convinced he’d pushed too hard. The silence stretched out as they bumped over another half mile of potholes when she finally spoke. The usual bravado in her voice was replaced by a quiet tone he’d never heard her use before.

  “The ice cream was when we were kids. It all changed a few years later. After my dad got sick.”

  “When?”

  “The Christmas I was fourteen. One day he was there and the next he was just gone.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Heart attack.”

  The urge to tell her how sorry he was rose up, but Drake held it back. Some sense told him he needed to let her get through it, start to finish, or he wouldn’t get the whole story.

  “After he died, things changed.”

  “Grief does that to people.”

  “My mother wasn’t most people.” On a heavy breath, she continued. “She went into this weird period after he died where she convinced herself she could have done something. Could have saved him.”

  “People often bargain through their grief. If I’d only done that, I could have saved them—that sort of thing.”

  “No, Drake. She convinced herself she could have saved him with magic.”

  The image of the night before, fire streaming from Emerson’s fingertips, had him turning toward her. “You’re a powerful witch. More so than the usual set of talents, I’d wager.”

  “Yes.”

  “And your mother? Your grandmother? Also very powerful?”

  “It descends through the female side of my family, but my mother married a warlock, so I’ve got it from both sides.”

  “Could she have saved him?”

  “No.” Emerson shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. Unlike you, we’re mortal and our bodies are subject to the same things as other humans. Death waits for us all.”

  “But you said the other day you have a longer-than-average life span.”

  “Just like other humans, it’s the genetic luck of the draw. If you’re lucky, it’s on the higher end of what’s considered long. But the power can’t change normal human genetics. My father had a bad heart and when his time was up, he died.”

  Although he was truly sorry for her loss, from the way she explained things, he puzzled at the outcome. “Why’d your mother have such a hard time with it? Her expectations had to be similar to yours. Mortality, while sad for those left behind, isn’t exactly a surprise.”

  “They were soul mates. Twinned, she often said. Souls placed together at the start of time, destined for all eternity.”

  When he didn’t say anything, Emerson added, “None of us under
stood it, Drake. I mean, I get the being in love part. In fact, I always took a special sort of pride in the fact that I had parents who loved each other so much. But her reaction? Like she couldn’t live another day. It wasn’t normal.”

  “Could magic have had something to do with it?”

  “How?” The natural curiosity that was one of her hallmarks had her turning toward him with a subtle tilt of the head.

  “Your magic is pure, right?”

  “I like to think so.”

  “But you’re a normal human, with normal human emotions.”

  She nodded again. “Of course.”

  “So what would keep those emotions from turning? Twisting into something less pure under the proper motivation.”

  “You think magic turned my mother?”

  “Well, think about it. Here’s a woman who possessed incredible power. Not as much as you, if I’m understanding correctly, but far more than the average witch. Now she’s in a situation where grief is clouding her mind and driving her choices.”

  “And there’s a whole lot of power coursing through her veins.”

  “It plays for me. Or it at least makes more sense than anything I’ve ever been able to come up with.”

  Emerson pointed to an upcoming street and he turned off the road and drove them into a small town. The streets had a quaint, old-fashioned feel to them, suggesting a simpler time.

  Which was a misnomer if he’d ever heard one.

  He’d lived through “simpler times” and they were anything but easy and uncomplicated.

  Conflicted, ruthless and terrifying, perhaps. But simple? No way.

  He tore his eyes away from a sign that promised malted milk shakes. “There’s one thing you haven’t told me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How’d your mother die?”

  “She didn’t. Or at least I don’t think she did. I don’t really know.”

  “What do you mean?” Drake turned toward her in the narrow confines of the car.

  “I mean I don’t know. She disappeared a long time ago.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Veronica’s house was the last one on the street. Drake drove down the road slowly, avoiding a few kids out on bikes enjoying their after-school freedom before dinner and homework kicked in.

  Drake hadn’t said a word since she dropped the little bomb about her mother on him and she couldn’t say she blamed him.