“Will not is different than cannot,” she said
“Raw power doesn’t equal talent,” Daemon countered. “Your familiar is equal to mine, yet you struggle to use your lightning to read minds when you’re simply shielding?”
“It’s her shield. Have you seen it?” Geer asked, guiding them back to the path.
“Not really. Only for a brief moment, and I’ve seen her in a couple circles drawn by others.”
Her mates were discussing her powers like parents chatting each other up about their kid’s milestones.
Of course, it happened to be the two of her mates that had both air and lightning, just like her.
Bloody experts at their magic.
It was because they’d had way more practice. Neither of them had been trapped in the human realm for most of their lives.
Levitating a spoon was hard work in the human realm.
“My lightning shield is perfect,” Elizabeth said, letting her hurt out in her tone of voice.
She couldn’t say the same about her circle work, but it was getting better. She was trying, practicing whenever she got the chance.
“Shield!” Geer suddenly ordered, turning around to whip a small rock at her head.
It bounced off her shield, an inch from her face, the stone causing a spark and turning smoking black as it rebounded towards Geer.
She focused on her shield harder and it turned almost opaque with power, waiting for a bigger missile.
Just let him try to get something through that.
“Fine, I can see the problem,” Daemon said.
“There isn’t a hole anywhere. I’ve completely covered myself,” she insisted.
“That’s the problem,” Geer said. “You need to move your shield around to leave little openings in order to use offensive magic.”
“Or telepathy,” Daemon said.
“You want my shield to leak like a sieve?” she asked in disbelief. “That sounds very counterintuitive.”
“Drop it,” Daemon told her. “You may as well announce your presence to the light clan if you’re going to walk around glowing like a bonfire.”
He gave her back a pat and hugged her close to take some of the sting out of his words.
“Milady, when you use your air to levitate, what are you doing?”
She hadn’t been embarrassed when Kim taught her basic magic, so why was it so humbling now to have males, well trained in the art of offensive magic, teaching her?
Difficulty admitting she needed their aid might be part of the problem.
Perhaps her magic wasn’t as earth shattering as she’d always thought.
“I use wind to push me up and then I stand on the air updraft,” she said, finally answering Geer. “It’s more difficult to push the air only under my feet to walk an inch off the ground like Daemon.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” Daemon said.
“She walks on air,” Geer muttered with a sigh. He turned back around and started walking again.
Daemon laughed.
Geer continued to rant.
“And air is her secondary magic? Maeren, I don’t know how you can let her wander the Wastes with that much power in her veins. There are many thirsty beasts that would—”
“She is marked, even if she isn’t under claim currently,” George said, cutting Geer’s rant off.
George’s voice had come from behind them as he caught up.
His verbal threat to Geer was accompanied by his fingers whispering over her skin to touch his bites on her neck.
She shivered, but didn’t try to shrug him off.
Daemon held her even closer, making his brother settle for the less than half of her body that was left open.
The possession in their touches called her to respond in kind.
Knowing that the Dogs were likely behind them kept her from grabbing onto George and pulling him to walk on the other side of her.
It would be less distracting than feeling him dominate her from behind, but it would look like encouragement to everyone else.
"You just want to protect your bottom, Kerashemeria."
She shielded her mind and booted George out.
“Surprise, you’re shielding lightning over only part of you right now,” George said. “You’re an expert without even knowing it. Next time, try shielding half of your body, and move it around.”
“Like a whirlwind?”
“That would be the air-magic equivalent,” Daemon commented. “Move your shields fast enough and no one would dare try to penetrate them.”
“But I’ll be able to get magic out?”
“They’re your shields, control them,” Daemon said.
“We still have time to practice more before this particular battle,” George told her, sounding cautious. “In the middle of a dragon fight is not where you want to try out things and risk being burned to a crisp.”
“She’s fighting with us?” Cason asked.
“We can’t leave her here. Some innocent dragon could be forced to take a long nap,” Geer said.
His comments were overhead by the nearby sentries, who they walked past as they entered the area where most of the troops were waiting.
She got a sideways glance from the sentries—that quickly moved onto the big demon and vampire prince surrounding her—and then trailed to the Dogs, behind them.
“I need to go have that discussion with King Raphael,” Daemon said. “Please stay here with George and rest.”
“I’ll stay as well. The other dragons are aware that your messenger is under my protection by clan laws for hospitality,” Geer said.
“He fed me some chicken,” Elizabeth admitted.
George sighed.
“She’s safe and doubly guarded, Daemon. Go have your talk.”
Shielded Mind
Daemon was betting it all on love.
It was terribly romantic and noble, given his intentions. He was fighting for the kingdom and her heart.
Raphael’s depth of feelings for his gaisa—who he barely knew—had better make the dragon ready to mend the broken relationships between dragons and the rest of Maeren.
It was one of their strongest chances of coming out victors.
She’d meant well when she set this meeting up, but the politics really were over her comfort level.
Raphael had insisted that he talk directly to Daemon about it, and now she was glad. So much less pressure on her.
What if she’d messed everything up for Daemon?
George grabbed her shoulder, bringing her mind back from her worried thoughts.
“There are hundreds of underfed dragon males here, and most of them are in their prime,” he warned her. “Do not wander.”
She’d been two steps away from him!
“I was fine on my own before you showed up,” she protested. “We would have snuck into the light clan and let all the demonesses off the chain with enough time to be back for supper if I hadn’t been forced to call a halt for you all to catch up.”
“We climbed a mountain, straight up,” one of the Dogs said. It wasn’t Cason.
“Not everyone had a dragon to fly them,” said the other redhead.
Damn it, she was going to have to figure out their tells.
It bugged her not to know the names to their voices. Identical twins ought to do something to separate their looks at their age. It wasn’t fair!
“I have air-magic, you dolts,” she told them, turning to give them the annoyed look of an older sister. “I could have floated my way up, without breaking a sweat.”
The shirts of all three Dogs were still damp with their exertions. She could almost smell them.
She wrinkled her nose at them and tried to give George the slip, twisting under his hand.
“Take another step, and I’ll show you what I picked on my way here, while thinking about your unfortunate kidnapping. I had plenty of time to prune off the leaves. It’s still fresh and snappy,” George warned.
That got her attentio
n.
Daemon wasn’t available to run interference on George this time. Her asshole mate was more draconian than Geer, and that was really saying something.
“What exactly would stop me from frying your little bundle of sticks to a handful of ash?” Elizabeth challenged George, deciding he’d respond better to this than pleading.
“There are plenty of trees around to make another birch,” George said, coming around to catch her chin in the fingers of one of his big hands and tipping her head up.
She met his attempted stare down, not blinking once at the fire flickering in his eyes.
“I can burn sticks all day long. I’ll consider it target practice,” she retorted.
“Doesn’t she know what a strapping circle is for?” Cason asked.
No, she didn’t, but she could guess.
Did the Dogs think she’d cower under George’s dominating attitude?
They should know better. Their leader needed someone that stood toe to toe with him.
George didn’t break his stare with her to answer Cason.
“Elizabeth has spent an extended period away from Maeren. Consider her in need of—”
“Don’t you dare say anything more,” she interrupted.
She gave George a push, using her air to move him a couple of inches by levitating him first.
It was so fast that he would have looked overpowered by her to the others.
Someone whistled. It was awfully quiet around them and the sound carried.
Deciding to go with it—while she had the advantage of surprise—she reached over and yanked the nearest redheaded Dog to her.
She used the same levitation trick and pushed him into her outstretched hand with a good gust from behind.
He was at least a foot taller than her, so it looked a bit incongruous as she growled up at him, barking out her own command.
“Tell me exactly how this strapping circle works and how to break it.”
“W-well, um, it’s a circle that creates a magic null space—”
“Why don’t Daemon and I show you once this deal with the dragons is completed?” George suggested, cutting off the nervous Dog.
“I would rather not,” she answered.
She relaxed her hand from the less threatening Dog’s shirt and released him from her magic to turn around and face George again.
She had expected fury and dominance, but what she saw was George working his fingers into his brow, massaging away stress.
“Do you want to sit?” he asked, politely waiting for her to respond instead of immediately taking a seat himself.
“Y-yes,” she replied, stuttering a little. Now she was the one off kilter.
There weren’t exactly chairs sitting around for them to relax on, but George flicked his hand to make a handy rock seat and plopped himself down.
He patted his lap for her to do the same on him.
She eyed his lap like there was a cobra lying on it.
“You threatened to fry my little stick, and now, you’re afraid to sit on my lap,” George said, his mocking tone tinged with enough anger that she knew he was still cooling off.
“I never said it was little,” she whispered to him only, perching herself on his lap.
“I’m more than happy to correct any faulty memories later on,” he whispered back, brushing her hair to the side, so he could lick his bite.
He did it naturally, as routine as breathing.
She shivered on him, still not used to his casual, possessive touches.
“Let me back in your head, kerashemeria,” George entreated against her neck.
He sucked her skin in a light hickey over his bite. He was going to make sure that no one could mistake the bite on display.
She didn’t have to cooperate with this possessive demonstration.
“No,” she denied him.
She wiggled on his lap and tried to shift away from his heated mouth. It felt like he was laving her skin with fire-magic and not only his tongue.
“Behave yourself in front of the children,” she chastised.
“Those lords are no innocents. They have male needs to feed, as well, at their age,” he pointed out, although the Dogs were all looking elsewhere.
Only Geer was watching her, and he had a smirk that told her he was enjoying the show.
At least, she had more clothes on this time to discourage his voyeuristic tendencies.
She tried to elbow George. “You can’t possibly need to feed again so soon,” she insisted.
He caught her elbow and brought that arm behind her back. He snagged her other wrist, pulling it firmly back as well.
Holding her fastened by the wrists, she was helpless to properly resist.
Geer openly gawked.
She stuck her tongue out at him. It seemed to be her favourite insult with him.
Something about Geer brought out the childish antics in her.
“Your shirt is rather tight,” George complained in her ear, biting the fleshy bottom lobe in punishment.
“Don’t bind me and that problem will cease to exist,” she muttered, biting her own lip to stop a moan.
Her ears and behind them were a weakness.
“I actually had other plans—inside your head—than feeding,” George whispered.
He fluttered his lips in butterfly kisses over the back curve of her neck. Then he nipped her again, over the strong muscle where her back met her neck, hard enough to bruise.
“If you would rather pass our time playing like this, keep resisting me,” George said.
“What other plans?” she asked, hissing as he trailed one sharp fang back up her neck.
“Let me in your head,” he demanded again.
She tried, once more, to wiggle free of his grip.
He tightened it just enough to let her know he had her under his control.
His free hand grabbed one of her hips and pulled her squirming bottom up hard against his pelvis and abdomen.
He groaned, almost silently, as she pressed onto his growing arousal.
"Okay, you have my attention, George."
"Lean your head back on my shoulder, like you are resting. I’m going to wrap my arms around you to hold you still before we begin."
"Why the physical restraint if we’re doing this in my head?"
"I’m not as experienced with using lightning in your mind as Daemon. I don’t want you to hurt yourself or someone else if I lose control. It’s better if you stay still, no movements to trigger my offensive reflexes."
She opened her eyes and found one of George’s heavy arms had wrapped tightly around her. He had used a diagonal approach.
Her right arm was held tight at the shoulder and tucked close to her body. He had then crossed his grip diagonally, to fasten her left arm at the elbow with his beefy forearm. His hand wrapped around her upper waist, just below her ribcage, his fingers spanning almost to her hip bone.
To say he had her well in hand was an understatement.
“Lean back,” he reminded her out loud, then opened his thighs, so her legs dangled between them.
He closed his legs over hers and the feeling of being imprisoned amplified tenfold.
"Your heart is racing. Do you like being at my mercy?"
"I thought you had other plans than feeding. Better hurry up before I get bored and fall asleep on your lumpy shoulder."
"Those are muscles, not lumps."
"Lumpy muscles, whatever."
"Should George and I tie you up, before we feed, next time?" Daemon suddenly asked, entering their telepathic conversation.
Her eyes opened.
Daemon wasn’t standing right in front of her like she’d expected.
He chuckled in her head, his male amusement only increased when she squirmed on George’s lap, ready to escape.
"It’s a good thing I’ve gotten used to walking around hard all the time when I’m with you,” George commented.
"I’m going to shield—while sitting on your lap
—and you’ll forget all about the discomfort you’re whining about now, unless you start doing whatever you planned earlier. I’m sure it wasn’t this,” Elizabeth said, impatiently.
"Daemon, are you free to help me train our witch?" George asked.
"Duty still calls, but I’ll watch,” Daemon said.
She could feel Daemon’s distraction.
There shouldn’t have been that much to talk about with Raphael since she had already negotiated the truce.
Still, the dragons and Daemon had been literal lifelong enemies. Things going too smoothly would have been suspicious.
She took a moment to quickly glance around.
Geer had gotten bored. He was talking to one of the sentries. He didn’t poke in her head at her thoughts—or those of her mates.
She’d noticed that in person Geer preferred to talk out loud when possible, minimizing his use of magic.
She employed telepathy naturally as breathing—used to being more in other’s heads from when she was an infant, learning her first words.
Perhaps Geer didn’t have anyone that he felt comfortable practicing with using lightning that way, so he was rusty.
When they were alone, she’d try to get him to use telepathy more with her.
She moved her gaze onto the Dogs.
The young earth-lords could have been mistaken for standing casually around while they waited.
Yet, she caught them taking turns skimming the visual perimeter and quietly reporting anything of concern to each other.
The last, she’d only picked up by skimming their thoughts.
George settled her further into his lap with his free hand.
"We’re safe here. Close your eyes now. I’ll need your help to set this up,” George said.
She complied, instantly welcomed by the sight of an unknown bedroom.
It had to be somewhere in the royal castle, the stone walls somewhat familiar.
George was standing about a foot in front of her, dressed in breeches that hung loose on his hips.
They showed off the deep cuts of his muscled flanks as he bent over and drew a perfect circle, using himself as the fulcrum again.
"Why am I naked?" Elizabeth asked.
"You’re always naked in my mind,” George answered.
Cheesy one-liners for telepathic people.
She rolled her eyes. It felt just as good in her thoughts, relieving some of her annoyance at finding George had gotten her in his bedroom, like he’d wanted.
Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3) Page 30