Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3)

by Mercedes Jade

  "I’m beginning to think this was a waste of my time,” she said.

  She stared at his ass, while he added a few glyphs to his circle.

  His tight end was a work of art, only enhanced by the breeches that were poured over him like liquid leather.

  They looked so buttery soft that even in her mind, her fingers were itching to cop a feel.

  She wanted to test the sensation of the smooth material over what promised to be the firmest globes she’d ever stroked.

  "You do realize that I’m in your head as much as you’re in mine?" George asked.

  He straightened up, turning, so she could see the impressive bulge straining his breeches.

  She sauntered up to him, putting an effort in when his eyes dropped to her generous hips.

  It was probably his first time seeing her completely naked—she’d been quick to hide when they’d transported naked into the Wastes—but he’d also had his hands all over her earlier.

  His imagination was spot on. Everything in the illusion was very close to reality.

  She reached down and boldly cupped his cock, in its painful leather confines.

  He didn’t move a muscle to let her know how it affected him.

  She already knew that he wasn’t exaggerating his form, either, nothing to hide when it came to his big dick.

  "You do realize, nothing that happens here, is real?"

  She told him this to remind him he was freer than in reality. They could be more open here.

  "It’s a safe place for you?" he asked.

  "Yes. I control this world."

  She snapped her fingers as a pair of her favourite black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt appeared on her body.

  She left off the bra for George’s pleasure, aware that her nipples were quite visible, as well as the jiggle of her high breasts when she did a little twirl for him.

  She caught him adjusting himself as she spun back around.

  "Get her in the circle!" Daemon’s order was growled out in a deep voice.

  She spun around again, but didn’t see him.

  George caught her by the hips and smacked her butt hard.

  She knew it was just in her head, but he seemed to have developed some expertise at controlling her sense of pain.

  He had damn well wanted to spank her since she’d called a halt to the dragon’s march, and finally, he had gotten one in.

  The smack echoed in the room, pain blossoming over both of her buttocks and down further.

  There was a throbbing between her legs as she squeezed her thighs together, bent over and gasping through it.

  Her reaction was mixed pleasure and pain, just like when Daemon had spanked her.

  Why did this have to be a turn-on in the right circumstances?

  George more gently rubbed his hands over her bottom, a soothing touch that made the pain go away. It was like he’d imagined himself using his earth in their illusion to heal her hurt.

  "You heard Daemon. March yourself over to the circle, stand at attention, and wait for my next order."

  She straightened and walked to the centre of the circle, deliberately putting her hands in her back pockets for protection and toeing the floor as she studied the glyphs George had drawn.

  This seemed like a normal amplification circle, but simplified, only a few glyphs to put it all together.

  "Is this even finished?" she asked.

  "Use your imagination to finish the rest of it."

  George stood in front of her, stepping over the glyphs, so her field of vision was filled with the ripples of his washboard abdomen.

  His leather-wrapped cock peeked out of the waistband of his low slung breeches.

  He leaned over her and pulled her hands from her back pockets, unintentionally pushing her head down and closer to his pelvis.

  Oh, the temptation!

  She licked his navel, swirling her tongue around, before shifting a little lower, earning an involuntary thrust from him that nearly brought her mouth in contact with his—

  "That is not what the circle is meant to teach you!"

  Daemon’s voice boomed, sending her head back up so fast, she nearly gave herself whiplash.

  "I told you that she was a minx and needed both of us!" George said with a groan.

  "That is what restraints are for: binding naughty witches in need of a lesson."

  Daemon sounded more exacerbated than mad.

  "Do you think you can manage to show her how to make a proper shield—to allow both defence and offence—in the next few minutes, or shall we give up and try again another time?" Daemon asked.

  "You wanted to show me magic?"

  Elizabeth looked over to George, excited.

  "Yes, I wanted you to be able to practice safely and without an audience,” George explained.

  "Get out of my circle."

  She gave George a push. He didn’t budge.

  “Come on, hurry."

  George finally took a few steps backwards.

  She let her magic flood the circle.

  “Next time, don’t strip me naked if you want to work. It’s too much of a distraction for you,” she sassed.

  Her magic snapped back to her, multiplied.

  George made good circles.

  He pulled a piece of parchment and a quill out of nowhere and started writing things down.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  She pushed and pulled the magic. She was levitating already.

  "I’m writing all of your demands down. Are there any more?"

  "Not at the moment."

  She gave George a suspicious look.

  He rolled up the parchment and sent it and the quill back to nowhere with a flick of his hand.

  “Let me know if you change your mind. I need to keep track, so we can review all of your demands together, later."

  Lightning was strobing all over the circle and into her now.

  She should look fearsome, but George didn’t appear impressed. Nope, he was the one who looked threatening.

  "Those weren’t demands. They were suggestions,” she nervously said.

  "I’ll keep that in mind next time you try to order me that it’s really only a suggestion. Now prepare to defend yourself."

  No rocks for her this time.

  George held his hands out at her menacingly, blue flames licking from his elbows down.

  "Why fire?"

  She squeaked the question at him, suddenly not sure about this leaking shield they wanted her to try making when she had to defend against George’s fire.

  Rocks were solid, but flames licked their way into the tiniest spaces.

  How could a shield full of holes keep out fire?

  "Dragons breathe fire."

  George sent a blast of blue, right around her circle, so it was all she could see for a moment.

  Her heart hammered against her ribs.

  She never told another soul, especially her sister, but fire scared her like no other magic.

  She saw blue flames before her eyes and her childhood demons rose from the embers.

  "Do not panic,” Daemon’s voice whispered in her ear. “George’s fire cannot hurt you here. This is a safe place to help you shield more effectively. George is giving you the means to be stronger."

  “As soon as I shield, the amplification circle will drop. Why bother to let me build up my magic, only to have it drain away?” she asked with confusion.

  "Not all of that power will escape you, and besides, amplifying a trainee gives him confidence before he faces his superior to test his shield. George is absolutely terrifying on the battlefield."

  "Telling me this is helpful, how?"

  "Are you going to shield or hide in your circle all day?" George asked before Daemon could answer.

  "He’s controlling it for you. Remember amplification circles don’t block magic—so that blue fire going around your circle is an effort on George’s part. If you were any regular soldier he was training, he would have toas
ted your ass for fun already."

  "I don’t need to be babied!" she shouted.

  She blasted her air-magic out with her voice, setting even George’s bluest flames shaking.

  Feeling for the natural way her air-magic travelled in waves, she yanked the lightning from the circle and shielded.

  "Now that is a perfect shield, kerashemeria,” George said.

  She felt the difference immediately.

  Her skin still had the buzz of static from the lightning dancing over her body, but her magic could breathe.

  The pressure against her own shield was lessened by the little gaps that allowed her magic to release.

  "Is this working?" she asked, trying to use her lightning telepathy, despite shielding.

  "Not bad,” Daemon answered, as if from far away. “Bit choppy, but you’re moving your shields around awfully fast."

  His voice sounded in and out, like he was talking over the loud beat of spinning helicopter blades.

  "If lightning can get through to me, then can other magic?" Elizabeth asked.

  George sent a wall of blue flame towards her and this time he didn’t hold it back.

  She screamed as it hit her shield, not hurt but unable to stop herself, her eyes squeezing shut.

  “Lightning is the only magic able to penetrate a lightning shield, and that’s if you send it out first and open the path to your mind,” George calmly explained—after demonstrating—while ignoring her screams.

  "Asshole!" she sent back to him.

  One-word insults were best when the telepathy was so static prone in her shield.

  "I prefer to be addressed as ‘Sir’ when I’m training a soldier!"

  "How about you duck, Sir?" she yelled back.

  She immediately sent a wave of air-magic to blast him off of his feet.

  Her intended gale turned into a little breeze.

  A piece of hair blew out of George’s queued-ponytail to drift down to his cheek, the dark strand teasing just above his firm lips.

  He smirked as she stared at his mouth.

  "Harder, you hit like a girl."

  She floated down to close the distance between them.

  "You fly like you were born with wings," George noted as she floated. “Your sporadic control and expertise over your magic is puzzling."

  "What do you mean?"

  She held her hand up and let the electricity visibly build.

  "You levitate with air-magic and use lightning to shield, almost automatically—like it doesn’t take any effort—which is to be expected of someone well trained in fighting that had dual magics. Yet, you can’t throw that same air back at me through your shield—with any appreciable power—when you mean to do it."

  "Like I’m overthinking it?"

  "In a way, it’s like thinking about how to do it—at all—interferes with your execution. Perhaps if you joined me in Daemon’s head, and feel us fighting with magic, you’ll intuitively know what you’re doing wrong, and be able to fix it."

  George shielded black.

  She looked to the massive lightning ball in her hand, crackling with power.

  "Uh, maybe I shouldn’t. The last dragon to take a hit like this is six feet under,” Elizabeth said.

  "If you’re shielding against a lightning attack, you should use a full shield, like the one you made earlier."

  George’s voice was muffled by the black covering him everywhere, even his mouth.

  "Nothing is real,” Daemon reassured her.

  She felt like Daemon’s phantom hand slid behind hers and supported the lightning she was about to throw at his brother.

  "Don’t bother to duck!" she yelled, reaching and throwing with all her might.

  It exploded in a firework of lightning on impact!

  “Elizabeth!” Daemon shouted.

  Hold me Tight

  She got hit with her own explosion!

  It was the only way to explain the vice around her body that was squeezing the very life from her.

  “Can’t breathe,” Elizabeth gasped.

  “Should we pull her out?” asked someone above her. She thought it was Cason.

  “Sam, grab George’s left leg and I’ll get his right,” said Reid.

  Two strong hands grabbed her behind the knees and pulled forward hard, as the vice around her legs loosened.

  She moved a couple inches, her knees straining.

  “It’s no use,” Cason said, sounding a bit breathless. “I’m going to rip her apart before I get her out of his hold.”

  She did not want to live through a ‘drawn and quartered’ torture in real life.

  “Stop,” she whimpered.

  “Are you okay?” Cason asked.

  “Open your eyes,” Geer demanded, sounding a couple of feet off from the rest of them.

  She fluttered her eyes open. Her lashes felt heavy, and she had to blink when the one face she hadn’t expected came into view.

  “D-Daemon?”

  “You look thoroughly trapped,” he commented, not moving to help her.

  “I may have knocked George unconscious,” she whispered.

  The Dogs heard her anyway.

  “Do you think she electrocuted him in her sleep?” Reid asked.

  “Like night-terrors with a fire-witch. They have to sleep next to a bucket of water,” Sam told them.

  “That’s an old wives’ tale,” Cason dismissed, but he sounded uncertain.

  “I believe you did give George quite the shock, but it was all in the mind,” Daemon said.

  He took control of George’s mind as he pulled his brother’s arm off of her—like it was a safety belt that he had to loosen on a carnival ride.

  A quick tug and she was free, popping off of George’s lap, only to turn around and bend over to check on him.

  “George?” she called to him, gently slapping his cheeks.

  Daemon got her bottom in his face. A fact that he demonstrated to her by trailing his hand over one thigh and up to cup the curves of her bottom.

  His long fingers were closer to the top vee of her legs than she was comfortable with in public view.

  “You two are more similar than you realize,” she muttered, straightening up in a snap.

  This was much too like when Daemon had lost consciousness after transporting realms and George had pounced on her body to demand a sexy feed.

  The hand fondling her bottom quickly let go.

  Daemon reached for her chin, spreading his fingers along her jaw as he brought her head closer to whisper in her ear.

  “Really? Did George misbehave after I fell asleep at the transport circle in the Wastes?”

  “He tried,” she said.

  Daemon could dip into her thoughts and read exactly what happened.

  “And did he get away with anything I need to talk to him about?”

  That was one of the things she appreciated the most about Daemon. He could read her mind, probably even force his way past most of her mental barriers, unless she really focused.

  Yet, he didn’t even sneak a look at her thoughts after he asked her a question, even if he didn’t like the answer.

  "George pointed out that I have no claim and two males."

  "That is easily remedied,” Daemon said.

  He brushed the hair from her neck, so he could see his brother’s bite marks.

  "Which is what George also said,” she countered.

  "Witches don’t usually have two claims. There’s no need when one claim is plenty of protection from unwanted bites,” Daemon said.

  He bent and let his warm breath bathe her neck.

  She shivered.

  "I’ll let you play with George when you’re under my claim again. I don’t require monogamy. I just want you safe,” Daemon explained.

  He was taking away all her barriers.

  “Are you going to carry him or wake him?” Elizabeth asked, not ready to make that kind of decision yet.

  "I will ask you again for a claim next time I feed,
” Daemon said before focusing on the problem at hand.

  She sighed.

  “George needs a little shock to wake him. Hitting him is useless with his earth. Try pouring a bucket of water on him,” Daemon suggested out loud.

  “Don’t you think it’s better if you do the honours?” she suggested.

  “Why?” Daemon asked, puzzled.

  “In case he wakes up swinging,” she admitted.

  Daemon clearly thought about it because he was elbowing her out of the way and calling for one of the Dogs to fetch a bucket of water.

  It worked and George didn’t wake up swinging.

  “Kerashemeria?” George asked, squeezing his arms—empty of her body—in the protective embrace he’d created.

  He shot up and repeated the endearment—with more panic—before his eyes found her standing, well-clear of danger.

  The three Dogs were at her back and sides.

  One of them snorted with amusement before his leader’s gaze cut to him.

  She blushed.

  Fantastic. George may as well declare his love for her in front of them.

  “Learn to duck,” she shouted at him, stomping over and giving him a kick, which promptly tore a Maerenian curse from her lips.

  Earth-lords don’t usually need to duck for good reason.

  George picked her up, while she was still bent over and holding her traumatized foot. He kissed her shoe, right over her toes, to the delight of the Dogs.

  She tolerated it, instead of escalating the situation further, relieved to see that George hadn’t suffered any lasting harm from the shock of her powers in his mind.

  Sometimes, even she had difficulty telling imagination from reality when the illusions were perfected and the mind connection a true melding.

  Daemon cleared his throat. “My witch?” he prompted.

  She was handed over with a whispered, “Our witch!”

  Surprisingly, Daemon didn’t protest.

  "We talked about you during the trek here, sweetheart,” Daemon said.

  "You gave me to George?" Elizabeth asked, shocked. “But you just asked for a claim!”

  “No. George has to do his own seducing, but I won’t stop him from trying. He won’t interfere with my prior claim, either."

  "So, it’s a race to see who gets my panties off first?" Elizabeth asked.