Witch's Net

by Crystal-Rain Love

  “Stupid mortal,” his attacker growled. “I will suck you dry.”

  Oh, screw my ass with a sledgehammer, Jonah thought, I've just provoked a fucking vampire, a levitating vampire. He tried the same move to break the vampire's hold, but didn't have the strength this time. He grabbed the gun resting at the small of his back, but it was knocked out of his hand before he squeezed out a single bullet. His lungs fought for air, burning in his chest as his hands worked at prying off the vampire's grasp. All the while, the vamp's face darkened into a mask of fury. “Why can't I drain you?”

  Uh, maybe because you're not biting me, Jonah thought, but didn't bother mentioning, not that he could.

  “Open for me!” The vampire lowered his face closer to Jonah's, his dark irises swirled like two small tornadoes. “Open!”

  Open what? His mouth? The dude wanted to kiss him? Oh, hell no! Jonah mustered up his strength and shoved forward, ramming his head into the vampire's. The monster backed away as stars danced before Jonah's eyes. He'd nearly knocked his own self out.

  “Deja, I need strength!”

  Alarm bells rang out in Jonah's mind. Blocking out the pain he still suffered from the near-concussion he'd given himself, he jolted upright and twisted. Deja's father had opened the back door of his car and held Deja's tiny face in his large hand. His dark eyes swirled, and a stream of golden-hued smoke misted out of Deja's nose and into his. He was sucking out her—what? Her soul? Her life essence? Whatever it was, it didn't matter. He'd just had his last taste of it.

  With a battle cry of rage, Jonah surged forward, gripped the vampire by the shoulders and tore him away from the little girl. As her body fell backward onto the seat, Jonah spun, his grip still firm on the vampire, and propelled the beast away from the car. The vampire tripped, fell, and immediately regained ground. Dammit.

  Before Jonah could blink, he found himself once more bent back over the hood of his car, the vampire's grip squeezing against his throat. Tired of the repeated choking, he decided to give the vamp a taste of his own medicine, and reached out with both hands, wrapping them around the evil bastard's throat.

  The vampire's eyes widened, clearly surprised, and satisfaction flared, but the sensation was all too brief as darkness started to creep in. Jonah fought against it, squeezing his hands tighter, but no matter how hard he squeezed, he couldn't weaken the vampire to the point of letting him go. He'd nearly blacked out completely before Jake intervened, coming to his rescue again.

  Someone stepped into the room and Jonah bolted out of the chair, instantly bracing himself in a fighting stance. Malaika gasped and backed away, smacking into Jake's chest. He grunted and gripped her shoulders, steadying her. “Easy, darlin'. Calm those reflexes, tiger,” he added for Jonah.

  “Shit. I'm sorry,” Jonah apologized, guilt assaulting him as he took in the wary set of Malaika's face. “I was half asleep and … I don't know. I thought you were—”

  “Please don't say his name,” Malaika whispered a plea, moving past him to reach her daughter's bedside. She leaned down and swept back an errant lock of hair from her daughter's forehead, and let out a sigh that sounded as if it'd been pent up forever. “How is she?”

  “She'll be fine,” Jonah reassured her. “Seta infused her with some energy, replenishing what was stolen—” He barely kept from growling the last word—“and wiped her memory clean of what happened tonight.”

  Malaika let out a small cry of relief, nodding with her face in her hands. Jonah was behind her immediately, his hands at her shoulders.

  “I'll leave you guys alone,” Jake said from the door, then backed out to give them their privacy. Jonah was a little surprised, knowing how his brother felt about Malaika. But then again, he'd been the one to offer words of comfort to Malaika in the alley while he'd been too busy trying to breathe. Something major had happened in that building, something his brother had yet to divulge. Whatever it was could wait. Jonah had a more pressing matter.

  “Deja will be fine, sweetheart. You need to rest.” So did he, but he didn't look nearly as frail as Malaika at the moment. At least he hoped he didn't. It wouldn't exactly fit the macho image he tried to project.

  “Oh, Jonah.” She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head tucked gently against his chest, right under his chin. “What if you hadn't been there? What would he have done to her?”

  What if Jake hadn't showed up in time to save us both? Swallowing hard, fighting back the tide of bitter jealousy he knew he shouldn't be feeling, Jonah gently rubbed Malaika's back. “Don't dwell on it. You're both safe now. You have some of the most powerful people I can think of protecting you now.” He couldn't help feeling a twinge of envy, wishing he'd been the one to scare the vampire off. No, the vampire had enjoyed playing with him. One look at Jake, though, and he'd vanished.

  “Yes, well, I thank you for protecting Deja.” She broke away, stepping back so no part of them touched, then walked to the other side of the room. “But it's hard to feel safe when you're underground with people who've threatened to kill you.”

  Jonah glanced around at the room, taking in its lack of homey décor. Christian's home was under the church, literally. A hidden trap door beneath the pulpit hid the staircase down. The vampire had carved a series of tunnels and bigger openings, serving as rooms, in the ground beneath his church. He'd been pretty awe-struck by it, himself, but could understand how Malaika might find it intimidating to be, in a sense, trapped underground with the slayer who'd pulled a gun on her.

  “Jake told me about the slayer thing, and from what I've gathered, witches and slayers don't mix.”

  “You're saying you had no idea he was a slayer?” Her voice was hard, accusing. It chafed. A minute ago she'd wrapped her arms around him, leaned on him. Now she was cold and aloof. Or at least trying to be.

  “I knew he killed vampires and ghosts, and other… beings. I didn't know he was some sort of supernatural super-warrior.”

  She made a sound of disgust in her throat and looked away. Jonah took a deep breath, let it out on an angry rush. “Dammit, Malaika, my intention when I brought you here, was to help—”

  “Help me straight to my grave.”

  “No.”

  “I can't just forget it, Jonah.” She looked him square in the eye, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. Tears of anger, he was sure. “You protected Deja, and I will always appreciate that, but I can't forget how you just served me up on a platter to your brother.”

  Jonah blinked, opened his mouth, but had to close it again. The thoughts in his head jumbled together, muddled further by his emotions. Guilt, anger, and confusion twisted and churned inside him. “Malaika,” he said her name slowly, an effort to calm himself so he wouldn't raise his voice and disturb Deja's sleep. “I thought you were just a psychic, and you needed a little help honing your gift to see your visions more clearly. I brought you here because I knew Christian could get in touch with Seta, who I knew was also psychic. My only intention was to find someone who could help you sharpen your visions.”

  She shook her head, rolling her eyes in disbelief.

  Anger burned through Jonah's blood. “You know, if you'd been truthful about what you saw in those visions, a lot of this might have been avoided.”

  Her eyes sparked with outrage. “If I had been truthful?”

  “I didn't even know my brother was here, and yes, when he told me you were a witch, I stepped the hell away,” Jonah growled, darting his gaze to the bed Deja rested on. Finding her still deep in slumber, he continued, making sure to keep his voice low despite the growl that had worked its way in. “Are you forgetting I was hung on a fucking wall by a demon? I hear someone's got some sort of supernatural power, I go on high alert. It was a reflex. Sue me.”

  Malaika's face flushed with color, and she had the decency to look away. Good. She should feel bad, Jonah thought. He, on the other hand, shouldn't be turned on by the cute way she pursed her lips in anger. But he was. Disgust with himself fuel
ed him on. “You say you didn't know you were a witch. Fine, I'll take your word for that, but we both know well that your pretty-boy boyfriend was the star of your visions, and that you were following him all this time. Why not tell us? Maybe if I'd known about him, I'd been more prepared for his attack.”

  “I had no idea what he'd turned into,” Malaika stated vehemently. “How was I supposed to know what would happen?”

  “Why'd you protect him?” Jonah voiced the question that had been haunting him since the attack, and moved closer, stopping right in front of Malaika. “Why were you so hell-bent on protecting his name?”

  “Why does it matter?” Her voice was a low growl. “It sounds to me like you're just jealous.”

  “Jealous?” Jonah laughed at the idea, despite the twist in his gut indicating her words were true. The thought of that bastard putting his hands on her, being inside her… He balled his hands into fists, but kept his cool. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, remembering the conversation he'd had with Malaika that morning. “Why should I be jealous when you've already confessed to having wicked fantasies about me?”

  Her eyes grew wide as she scoffed, a small gasp of sound escaping her parted lips. Full, smooth lips, perfect for sucking. “I did not. A vision is not the same thing as a fantasy. And besides, how do you know if I enjoyed the vision? You might not have been any good.” She grinned smugly.

  “I know you enjoyed it, honey, because—” He inched his face closer until their lips were a breath apart— “there hasn't been a word invented yet to describe just how good I am. And when I do get you into bed, and we both know I will, you'll forget pretty-boy ever existed.”

  She gasped, their lips so close, she sucked a little of his breath out. Anger contorted her face, but she couldn't hold it. Her eyelids lowered to half-mast, and slowly, she moved forward…

  Jonah stepped back. “But seeing as how I'm such a bad, untrustworthy person, I understand how it will take time until you feel comfortable enough to explore that vision.”

  Malaika blinked, her jaw clenched as realization dawned in her eyes. It was all Jonah could do not to laugh. “You dirty little…”

  “Sweetheart, you have no idea how dirty I can be.”

  Her mouth fell open, the anger at his trickery gave way to desire, if the hunger in her eyes was any indication. Jonah nearly said to hell with teaching her a lesson and closed the distance between them, but he knew one touch, not even one kiss would be enough. He'd fling her on the nearest surface and ravish her if he gave in to the pull to taste her right then. And at the moment, the nearest surface was the bed where a small child slept.

  “Get some rest, Malaika. You've had a long day.” On a sigh of regret, he stepped toward the open door.

  “Jonah.”

  He stopped in the doorway and turned to face the pretty witch who'd somehow managed to bewitch him.

  “I'm sorry you were… hurt by the demon… and that I didn't believe you.”

  Jonah nodded. “And I'm sorry my reflex was to get away from you when I found out you were a witch. I promise if anyone ever pulls a gun on you again, they'll have to shoot through me first.”

  With that, he stepped out of the room. “And I'm sorry I'm stuck with this damn hard-on,” he grumbled as he made his way down the narrow tunnel-like hall to find a place to sleep, somewhere Malaika's arousing scent wouldn't follow and keep him awake.

  NINE

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Jake whispered, sliding into the bed next to his wife. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing violet orbs perfectly capable of taking his breath away. Her long black hair fanned over the white pillow beneath her head. Even with her face slightly chubby from her pregnancy, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on.

  “Hey,” she responded, her voice soft and sleepy. With a little groan of discomfort, she shifted in the bed to snuggle in to his side, and Jake wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. “I tried to wait up for you.”

  “You need your rest. Pretty soon, neither of us will be able to sleep through a night.”

  “Like we ever did before, between all the hunting and the… after the hunting.”

  Jake's groin tightened at the thought. He'd always thought he'd had a healthy sexual appetite. Nyla was damn near insatiable. Or had been, before her belly had gotten so big. Now she was too uncomfortable for sex.

  “Seta told me there's a siren involved in the murders your brother was investigating.”

  “That's what it looks like.” He ran his hand down Nyla's arm, let out a yawn as his eyes grew weary.

  “Sirens are very powerful. I imagine even powerful enough to seduce a slay—”

  Jake placed his index finger over Nyla's lips the second he realized where she was going, and chuckled. “Same old jealous kitty-cat.”

  “Bite me.”

  “I'd love to, just as soon as you're back in the mood. Then I'll lick the sting away.”

  With a grunt of—anger? frustration?— Nyla hefted herself into a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She sat there with her shoulders slumped, her back toward him. Jake didn't have to see her eyes to know they were wet with unshed tears.

  “Dammit, Nyla, what now?” He sat up and scooted to her side. She turned her face away as if doing so would prevent him from knowing what was in her eyes. He took a deep breath, gearing up for whatever came next. The woman's hormones were all messed up, her emotions all over the map. Personally, he didn't know which he'd celebrate more the moment his son was born: The birth of his son, or the fact that Nyla would go back to being her normal self. “If you don't tell me what's wrong, it's just going to stew inside you and make you feel really lousy. You're tired, sweetheart. Let's get this over with and get some rest.”

  “Now I'm your sweetheart?” Her voice was broken, fragile, and held the slightest trace of anger.

  Jake sighed, his eyes aching to close, his head aching to rest on a pillow. He was too damn tired for this. “You're always my sweetheart. My wife, my partner. My best friend. The only woman I want. You know that.”

  “I'm fat.”

  Here we go again. “You are not fat. You're pregnant. There's a big difference between the two.”

  “You think I'm fat.”

  “No, I do not think you're fat. I may think you're crazy right now, but never have I thought you were fat.”

  “If you go after that siren and she—”

  Oh, for crying out loud. “Woman, what am I?”

  “What?” She turned her face toward him, wet tracks sparkling on her cheeks, where silent tears had fallen. The sight made Jake's stomach clench. She'd only cried in front of him once before she was pregnant, and he'd felt helpless, out of control. What the hell was a man supposed to do with tears? He hadn't gotten any more used to the damned things in the last few months despite her releasing them so freely. “What am I?” he asked again, softer this time.

  “A slayer.”

  “Exactly.” He reached out and hooked a lock of obsidian hair behind her ear, amazed as always by the beauty of her flawless face. Even pink from crying and a little bloated from pregnancy, no other woman on the planet could compare. “Because I'm a slayer, I have quickness to aid me in battling with vampires, an impenetrable mind to protect me against any psychic attackers, and I'm immune to lycanthropy. Wouldn't it make sense that I have a little something in my system to protect me from a siren?”

  She furrowed her brow in thought, and her nose scrunched a little. It was so cute, he wanted to kiss it, but didn't dare kiss her anywhere until he knew he was in the clear. The way her moods had been swinging the past few months, an innocent little kiss might just get him a punch in the face. Her moods were that damn erratic.

  “I guess so. So what ability do you have to protect you from sirens?”

  “I don't know.” He shrugged. “Maybe I can see them.”

  She blinked, confused, then her eyes darkened to deep amethyst. “So can every other man. That's why
they follow them and get their horny asses killed.”

  “I mean maybe I can see the real thing, Nyla, not the image they project. Or maybe this psychic shield I have will keep out the bitch's allure. There's gotta be something.”

  “And if there isn't?”

  “Then I'll see the most amazingly sexy woman I've ever seen in my life, and she'll try to lure me to my death.” He grinned at the way her teeth ground together. The poor woman was going to break a tooth. “She'll have long, midnight black hair and beautiful violet eyes that look like two dark amethysts when she's pissed, and her belly—” he lay his hand gently on Nyla's stomach—“will be round with my child. I won't be able to catch my breath, she'll be so beautiful… but then she'll try to seduce me and I'll know it's not you because you haven't given me any in over a month.”

  Jake grinned, waiting for Nyla to laugh. Then he remembered this wasn't the old Nyla. This was the woman whose hormones were berserk, the woman who needed to hurry up and pop out his baby before they both went crazy trying to deal with each other. And if looks could maim, he'd be looking at her through the eyes of his disembodied head. “Just like amethysts,” he muttered. “There was a time you would have thought that was funny.”

  “There was a time when...” She bit her lip, turned her face away, and released a sigh so soft Jake barely heard it. “Because they'd melded their minds earlier, Seta was able to tap into Malaika's thoughts and see part of her vision when she was reading the dead man's body. She saw how that man was so easily seduced by the siren because he and his wife were barely having sex.”

  “I'm not that man,” Jake snapped, finally getting angry. He could put up with her insane ideas that she was fat or somehow unattractive, her mood swings, and even her tears. But he wouldn't tolerate her thinking he'd cheat on her, not after everything they'd been through. “And as you said, Seta saw a snatch of what Malaika saw. She told me exactly what that man was thinking when he followed the siren. He and his wife were having sex, twice a month. He simply no longer desired her because he was a fucking pig who obviously never even loved the woman. Do you remember what I did to save you from Demarcus?” His blood grew hot when referencing the vampire's name, remembering the bastard who'd killed his childhood friend, and tried to kill Nyla.