Hunted

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Moira pushed him to the side. The ball smashed into a crane, sending the metal beast sliding several feet along the wet pavement. High pitched, the screech tortured her eardrums. She swirled air into a ball, throwing it as another glowing weapon was volleyed in their direction. Moira’s ball sizzled, then captured the green glow. The energy spit like water being poured over fire. Steam rose and both energies puffed out.

  The Kurjans leaped into the clearing, purple gazes taking in the scene.

  For a moment, no one moved. Time stopped. Moira panted and blinked the rain out of her eyes. The three groups eyed each other, angled like points of a triangle. Thunder bellowed from over the sea. Lightning flashed in response.

  She centered herself. “I’ll take the witches.” A tiny part of her didn’t want Conn to see her in action. The man would want to jump in. She could handle herself. And if the big men in her life didn’t stop trying to shield her, she’d never have any authority—on the council or as an enforcer.

  She widened her stance. “By the power of the Coven Nine, you’re found guilty of violating Canon 34a and are sentenced accordingly.”

  The female witch smiled. “My name is Gena McMurphy.” A light smattering of greenish electricity began to dance across her arms.

  “So?” Moira glanced at the younger male witch. He’d gone pale. Scattered freckles stood out in disarray across his pasty skin. His gaze swiveled between Moira and his friend.

  “So, I thought you should know the name of the witch about to harness your power, Seventh.” Gena jerked her head at the Kurjans. “We should let the vampire and Kurjans take care of each other.”

  “Of course.” So the witch had heard of Moira. Being the Seventh made her almost royalty.

  Lighting zigzagged from high above.

  The Kurjan sporting the most medals on his shoulder cleared his throat. “We’re just here for the witch.” His smile flashed sharp yellow canines. “But we’ll take two for the price of one.”

  Thunder ripped across the sky.

  Conn exhaled slowly. Time to even the odds. Why the hell did everyone feel the need to chat? In a rush of speed, he grabbed his gun from his waist and shot the closest Kurjan in the neck. The guy went down.

  The second Kurjan bunched and leaped in a fierce tackle before Conn could get off another shot. They hit the pavement with a boom as loud as the thunder, leaving a vampire-sized dent in the asphalt. Pain cascaded across his shoulders. His gun skidded out of reach. Levering his legs around the Kurjan, Conn swung and reversed their positions. Grabbing his knife from an ankle holster, he cut off the guy’s head in one clean slice.

  The remaining Kurjan leaped onto Conn’s back, knife aimed for the jugular. The guy weighed a ton. Fury rumbled through Conn’s chest. He grabbed the soldier’s hand, fighting to keep the blade from piercing his skin. From the corner of his eye, he could see Moira battling Gena. Hand to hand. Gena had some moves, but Moira had speed and agility. The male witch angled around behind Moira.

  Conn threw an elbow back, connecting with cartilage. Blood spurted, burning his cheek. The Kurjan growled, sinking a fang into Conn’s earlobe and yanking.

  Pain slashed through his head. The asshole had bitten his earlobe off. Conn snarled, throwing the Kurjan off and jumping to his feet. “You prick.” He ignored the blood washing down his neck as he circled the soldier.

  Red stained the monster’s incisors when he smiled. “I came for a witch and killed a Kayrs. A good day, I think.”

  Did the Kurjans pass pictures of Conn’s family around for fun? How the hell did these guys always identify him? Rain splattered against his face, cooling the blood. “You’ll be just another random kill for me. A typical Tuesday, if you will.”

  The Kurjan charged. Conn grabbed the soldier by the ribs, allowing the momentum to throw them back. Landing hard, he swept his arm out, grabbing his gun. The monster’s eyes widened just as Conn swung back and shot him in the ear. “Yeah. Payback’s a bitch.” He rolled the unconscious enemy off.

  Flipping to his feet, he whirled in time to see the male witch grab Moira from behind. The female witch shot forward, slamming her hand against Moira’s chest. His mate shrieked. Her entire body went rigid. Rage beat through him harder than the pounding rain. Two strides had him across the asphalt and grabbing the male witch in a headlock. The jerk struggled, then slowly gave in as Conn increased his hold.

  “Thanks,” Moira muttered as she hit Gena’s hand away.

  “You got this?” Conn asked.

  “Yep.”

  A groan sounded from behind him. The Kurjan he’d shot was gaining consciousness. “Good. I have two down but not completely.” Dragging the male witch, Conn angled his knife and decapitated first one and then the other still breathing Kurjans.

  Then he turned to watch his mate.

  Moira moved faster than a whisper, leaping forward and taking Gena to the ground. Gena howled in protest. The male witch trembled against him.

  The tackled woman fought back, throwing punches. Moira batted the fists out of the way. Then her jaw tightened, and she thrust her palm against the witch’s chest.

  Conn had taken hearts that way but doubted Moira had the strength to get past the rib cage. The man in his grasp went limp, giving up any pretense of fight.

  The witch on the ground shrieked, both hands grabbing Moira’s arm. Her eyes went wide in panic. His mate held tight, throwing her head back, closing her eyes. Oxygen popped around them like balloons too full of air. A green glow traveled from the downed witch, up Moira’s arms to her chest. Then it disappeared. Inside her?

  The wind swept the area, scattering pebbles and the scent of burnt wire. Green mist smoked along the witch’s skin, dying out with a whisper. The witch struggled, her body convulsing, then stilling. Her head dropped back to the ground and she went limp.

  Moira stood. Green energy flitted along her skin, slowly shifting to electric blue. She turned toward Conn, her eyes deep and fathomless. Jesus. Two steps closer and she placed her hand against the skinny guy’s chest. He cried out, his body shuddering. Seconds later, his body sagged and Conn let him fall.

  He eyed his mate. “You took their power.”

  She nodded, shoving curls off her face, sucking in air. Her chest panted with the effort. The line of her neck throbbed. “Yes. Absorbed it.” For a witch, losing powers was worse than death.

  “Could she have taken yours?”

  Moira gave a tired smile, her small body still vibrating. “Maybe.” She eyed the young man on the ground. “He’ll have at least a century to learn from this mistake. Hopefully he won’t make it again.”

  Conn surveyed the two unconscious witches. “The power can develop again? Someday?”

  “Yes.”

  Conn reached out and grabbed Moira’s hand, needing to feel her. Static electricity raced up his arm. “Are you all right?” Taking someone else’s power had to hurt, at least a little. Yet another gift the witches had failed to share with the world. Though Moira’s ability to fight and adapt impressed him once again.

  “Yes.” She leaned into him. “Sometimes I need to work off the energy.” The words came in short gasps. “Too much power can burn.” Her eyelashes fluttered against her skin. Then she was out.

  Burn indeed. Conn caught his little mate, wondering what other surprises she held.

  Chapter 13

  Moira awoke in the plane to the sound of typing. Bubbling energy popped through her veins. She’d taken a lot of power from Gena. Her mate sat across the aisle, pounding his laptop. He sprawled in the seat, and his long fingers were surprisingly agile on the keyboard. Concentrating, he alternated between scowling and nodding. One thing about Conn, he didn’t hide his emotions. Part arrogance, part confidence, she got the feeling he disliked wasting time ... and hiding out wasted time.

  She cleared her throat. “Did you tell the king about tonight?”

  “Yes.” Conn didn’t look her way, reading his screen and frowning.

  She could�
�ve asked him to keep her secret, and for a moment had even considered making the request. But she refused to use him, asking him to be someone he was not. His allegiance to the Realm made him who he was. She understood.

  Her mind came fully awake. She sat up in the chair. “Wait. We needed to wait for the shipment.”

  “Daire showed up right after you passed out. Late to the party, as usual.”

  Confusion swirled around Moira’s head. “He planned to take Gena into custody?” Someone needed to question the witch.

  “Yes.”

  Relief had her relaxing back into the seat. Daire would get to the truth. “Any news?”

  “Yeah. He said the ship didn’t come in. So far Gena has not regained consciousness.”

  “Bollocks.” Where the hell was the shipment? “I’m surprised Daire let you take me.”

  “So am I.”

  Okay. That couldn’t be good. What was the Coven Nine up to?

  Conn kept his gaze on the screen. “So. You fight with plasma balls, take another witch’s power, and turn organs to mush.” The typing continued as he talked. “Can you turn the organs of nonhumans liquid?”

  She rubbed her nose. What should she say? “Not yet. I mean, the power grows through the ages. But humans are easy.” Maybe she shouldn’t let him know his spleen was safe. Oh well, too late. “The enforcers protect the council and are the Nine’s front line, as you know—and taking power is the main way we do that.” They also helped train the Nine’s soldiers for battle, but that was mostly a side job. “We’re sent out when someone is abusing quantum physics ... abusing magic. We, ah, make them stop.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, leaning forward to peer at his screen. “What other ways do people abuse magic?” Low, a barely perceptible threat hung in his words.

  Her body tensed, reacting immediately. “When the humans learned how to split an atom, they created atomic energy ... a big bomb. Imagine someone screwing with subatomic particles.”

  “I understand the possibilities but didn’t think anyone was stupid enough to try. Or rather, I thought your soldiers had a better grasp on your citizens.” Conn sucked in air. “Jesus. They might blow up the entire planet.”

  “The entire galaxy, more likely.” Sometimes morons didn’t think before messing around with forces they should avoid. “We also step in when someone is trying to manipulate other beings for profit or gain.”

  “I see.” He closed the laptop, swiveling his chair to face her.

  Her thoughts scrambled like a satellite signal gone wrong.

  A dark shirt spread across his powerful chest, which tapered to a narrow waist and worn jeans. An inferno swept inside her veins. She traced every contour of his hard face with an attention born of need. His gaze darkened, and he waited her out, letting her drink her fill, not moving.

  Awareness filtered through the haze in her head. Patience stood as yet another of his weapons. He held so much control over himself, as well as anything in his way.

  As if he’d made the challenge out loud, the need to take him rushed through her. She wanted to be the one woman in the universe who could make him lose that control. The burning fire in her veins from the fight earlier propelled her into action.

  With the inherent instinct of a predator, she moved gracefully, dropping to her knees between his legs.

  His sharp intake of breath made her bite back a smile. Sage and man filled her nostrils. Slowly, showing him true control, she reached for his belt. Defined abdomen muscles clenched against her knuckles. The buckle released easily, the belt catching on each loop as she drew the leather loose.

  He swallowed. Loudly.

  Nimble fingers had his jeans unsnapped as she sprang him free. Large, throbbing, and so ready for her. A murmur of appreciation wandered up her throat. How kind of him to go commando. She leaned forward, swiping her tongue across the tip of his cock. Salt and male exploded on her taste buds.

  Erotic pain danced along her scalp as his hands dug into her hair. “Moira.” Part groan, part plea, he tried to tug her head back.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I need this, Conn.”

  With a start, she realized the truth. Many powers fought for dominance inside her. Oh, she’d win. Her natural power would assimilate the other. But for now ... she needed a release. More than that, she needed Conn. The marking on her hip bone flickered alive, sending tendrils of demand to her clit.

  With a groan, he loosened his hold, throwing back his head to smack the seat. Both hands still cupped her scalp, keeping her in place. “Take what you need.”

  She hummed in appreciation against him, power filling her when he stiffened with a ground-out groan. Books didn’t do this justice. Scooting forward, she took more of him in her mouth ... not even a third of him, yet he breathed heavily, his body tightening.

  Conn bit his lip until blood welled in his mouth. Inexperience and determination made for a lethal combination. . . she was going to kill him. His mate’s soft licks and adventurous nibbles had his heart thumping so hard he figured a rib or two might break. Not that he gave a flying shit. She could shatter every bone in his body so long as she didn’t stop.

  The musky scent of her arousal mixed with lilacs and filled his senses. The animal inside him lunged to life, demanding he take her.

  Her mouth enclosed his tip and he surged up, choking her. “Sorry.” Releasing her hair, he grabbed the armrests, digging in his nails. If the woman wanted to explore, he wouldn’t stop her. The wet heat of her mouth remained around him, her jaw relaxing.

  She swallowed.

  His cock hardened more than he’d thought possible. A roaring filled his ears, his nails rent the leather, and his shoulders shook with the fight to retain control. “Moira, sweetheart. Stop.” He didn’t mean it. God, he didn’t mean it.

  She chuckled around him.

  That was it.

  His control ruptured.

  He charged her, knocking her back on her butt. Both hands dug into her jeans, half lifting her and tearing down the sides. The sound spurred him on. Her delicate panties ripped in two.

  Flipping her around, he covered her, reaching for her heat. Wet. She was ready. She gave a low laugh, part temptation, part challenge. He gripped her hips and plunged inside her so hard she shot forward, catching herself with her forearms on the rough carpet.

  “Conn,” she gasped.

  He stilled. His balls vibrated with the need to take her. Harder. More.

  What the hell was he doing? “Moira.” Lush hips filled his palms. His hands shook. “I’m ...” Stop. He needed to stop. The beast inside him bellowed in protest.

  She shoved back against him, her buttocks flush to his groin, her thick heat surrounding him. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  At her husky plea, the beast won.

  The spongy material of her shirt shredded in his hands. Her skin nearly glowed white in the muted light. Bare, fragile, and so damn soft. He caressed down both sides of her spine, pulsing inside her. She gripped him like a vise, quivering around him. Perfect. She was so fucking perfect his chest hurt.

  He slid out and then back in. Blood filled his ears, lilacs filled his life. His body started to thrust, no longer remotely attached to his brain. Neurons fired uselessly. Wrapped around him, Moira was the only thing in existence. With a growl, he shoved her shoulder down, pushing her face against her forearms.

  He wanted her open ... vulnerable ... helpless.

  The whimper she sobbed sounded like need and demand.

  He gave in to the demand, pounding into her. Sensations bombarded him, some hers, some his ... some beyond them both. His fangs dropped low. Sparks lit down his back to twirl at the base of his spine. Close. He was so close.

  Reaching around her, he found her swollen clit. She levered up, her head thrown back, her spine arching, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  He tangled his hand in her hair. Pushed her back down. His way—this time, his way. A tightened grip quelled her protest, his palm exten
ding across her scalp to hold her in place. Tight thighs quivered against his as his stance widened, spreading her legs farther. Open. Completely at his mercy.

  His other hand clutched her hip, yanking her back to meet every thrust. Her buttocks shook with the force of his momentum, even as she tried to keep up. His tongue swelled with the need for her blood. “Mine.” Promise or vow ... it came from his soul.

  She stiffened. Then, with a sigh, her shoulders and thighs relaxed.

  Submission. He’d never sought it, he’d never wanted it. Until now.

  As his powerful mate submitted of her own free will, she pierced his heart in two, sealing their fate. As if they’d ever had a choice.

  The creature inside him, the one he often fought, took over. He plunged harder, deeper, beyond the physical. She trembled under him. With a pinch to her clit, she broke. A scream of release filled the airplane, her heat squeezing his cock so hard his vision went black.

  Waves rippled around him.

  Pleasure cascaded from her.

  A growl ripped from his soul.

  He angled deeper, covering her. Quick as a flash, his fangs pierced her neck. She orgasmed again. Honey and energy flowed into his mouth. His back heated, a hot poker of lust stabbed a centimeter behind his balls. Holding on to everything that mattered in life, he shot forward, keeping her captive. With a roar from the animal within, he came.

  Chapter 14

  A bulletproof black Hummer met Moira and Conn at the private airport. Ignoring Moira’s wild hair and the scent of sex clinging to them, the driver stared straight ahead as he quickly squired them away.

  She cleared her throat, tugging on the borrowed shirt Cara had left in the plane. Considering the number of outfits to choose from, Moira wondered just how often a Kayrs mate ended up with shredded jeans. A lingering sadness remained at the loss of her Irish clothing. She liked the hand-sewn perfection of the Irish silks.