Magic Revenge: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Spirit War Chronicles Book 2)

by Stephen Allan

  On the plus side, at least I wouldn’t have an excuse for missing training, since Carsis would hunt me down even if I went to the rural part of Berlin on a bicycle.

  “Good. Then be up at 9 a.m. tomorrow, and I’ll see you then. I’ve got the place secured so nothing should happen here.”

  “Deal, thanks,” I said, the smile returning to my face as I walked toward the real bouncer. He looked at my ID, handed it back without a word, and let me pass. Only DJ remained on the other side.

  “Guess the allure of German women was too much for Brady, huh?” I said.

  “All he needed to hear was that accent and he shot off like a bullet,” DJ said, and without any warning, he took my hand and led me up a short flight of stairs.

  With nothing else to distract us, I could now hear the thick music playing, the bass so strong it felt like there were Bose headphones directly on my heart. Just before we walked through one more door and into the actual nightclub, he pulled me close, my arms suddenly around him.

  “For the rest of the night,” he said, his voice full of power. “You’re mine.”

  “Don’t be so—”

  But he didn’t wait. I doubted he even listened to a word I said. Instead, he shoved open the door and dragged me in.

  Holy. Shit.

  I could see why they called this a church. The ceilings extended to the sky like a giant museum—or, well, church—yet where we stood was only floor one of four. The entire place was packed to the walls, despite it being a weekday. Up top, overlooking all who danced like a watchful God, a DJ played Deadmau5. Bodies brushed against us, asses on hips and shoulders brushing shoulders. I could smell sweat, grinding, and sex everywhere. Everyone around us was either dancing, making out, or putting hands in places no club in America would ever allow.

  The place was an absolute bacchanalian party, and I fucking loved it.

  For one night, at least, I was not going to worry about demons. I was not going to worry about shifters, or Arachtars, or mindfucks, or Mundus. I was just going to have a good time, and—

  DJ held me close and leaned in.

  “Do you want a drink, darling?”

  Oh, boy. I could feel the primal urges in me threatening to take control of my actions. The animal in me wanted the animal in him, and that animal craved only one thing—a wild night of dancing and an absolute chaotic, freaky night of sex.

  At the moment, I could still say no. But for how close he was, and how good he felt…

  “Yes, yes, get me a rum and coke,” I said.

  I don’t know why I expected DJ to go fetch it for me and return a few minutes later, but that illusion dissipated when he kept a grip on my hand and led me to the bar. I tried scanning the place for the lesbian couple, Brady, or the Brits, but with four floors and at least a few hundred people on this floor alone, that became an impossible task. I had to accept that until sunrise, DJ had me all to himself.

  This should be fun.

  We had to wait in line for a surprisingly brief period at the bar, as it looked like more people were interested in dancing and fucking than in drinking. DJ handed me my glass, he held up his—the same drink—and we clinked glasses, maintaining eye contact as we sipped on our drinks.

  “Care for a dance?” he said.

  I knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer as I turned my sip into a gulp. I was also pretty sure my “just this” statements were getting stretched further and further out. First just conversation. Then just dinner. Now…

  “Just a dance, nothing more.”

  “For now,” DJ said with his eyebrows arched.

  I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that came. DJ almost laughed with the drink in his hand but kept his composure. I wasn’t a fool. I knew that when I started dancing and felt his perfect body on me that I wouldn’t just dance. I knew all of that.

  But what was I going to do, stand here like an idiot until I was sure that Caitlin or Sarah had gone home so I could get in the house? Hell no. I would have my fun, push a couple of my boundaries, but draw the firm line at…

  Well, I’d know it when I came to it.

  DJ and I both finished our drinks in under two minutes. He grabbed my hand, led me to the dance floor, pressed himself up upon me, and we began dancing to the music. Strobe lights of red, yellow, purple, green, and blue colors flooded the otherwise darkened club, Calvin Harris blared with enough force that my skin crawled from the sound waves, people made out all around us, and at first I kept my composure.

  At first.

  His body was a rock in more ways than one. For a white guy, he had surprisingly good rhythm, though I wasn’t about to put him on a pedestal and call him the greatest. He kept brushing my hair and running his hand on my thighs and neck, and it felt ridiculously good. I was certainly becoming aroused. But I had control—

  He spun me around and placed his hands on the small of my back as we danced. I just laughed and put my face into his chest, trying not to look at him. I knew if I looked up, he would—

  He turned my face toward his.

  And at that moment, I knew I was screwed. I saw his seductive smile, the teeth so white they could’ve modeled for a toothpaste commercial, the dimples crafted by God, the eyes that didn’t look so much at me as into me, the beard that said rugged, and the floppy hair that suggested a wild streak.

  I’m not sure what he saw in me, but it was enough that he smiled like he knew.

  He stopped dancing and his head moved forward.

  Well…

  Fuck it.

  I closed my eyes and kissed him, our lips connecting and rapidly shifting from soft and slow to ferocious and French. My hands went all over his body, and his hands went up my dress. If I was going to kiss him, damnit, I was going to lose my fucking mind doing it. No gentle kisses. Horny, clothes-torn-off kisses only, please.

  When I finally did pull back, DJ had a victorious grin on my face that made me laugh. I pounded his shoulder with my fist, pretending to regret that he had won.

  Well, he won kissing me. But I won in how we kissed.

  “Count your lucky stars,” I said.

  I didn’t need to say that I wouldn’t go any further than that. I doubted such a situation like this would arise again—us separated from the boys, in a highly libidinous environment, without concern of demons. It would be a night to remember, but not a night of sex.

  As much as my panting, gasping, horny body wanted it otherwise. If we were already in a place where we could…

  DJ just snorted with laughter and pulled me in to kiss. It was the same as before, equally fiery and erotic. When I finished, I turned my back to him and danced with far more seductiveness and desire than I had leading up to the kiss.

  I no longer cared that I didn’t know where anyone else was. If a concern popped to mind, I reminded myself Carsis had it under control. And if not, I had my clutch with my trusted girls. And even if that wasn’t enough, I had a dragon behind me ready to wage war.

  As the hours went on, the drinks became stronger, the kisses more aggressive, the hands more explorative, and the dances became more sexual, I lost the sense of restraint that I had before. I didn’t get involved with many men because I didn’t want them to deal with my baggage and I didn’t trust almost anyone. But DJ had followed us here. He wasn’t going anywhere, not with shifter bites on his neck and me being the only one who could save him. And even for all his talk about following me long-term, I could see the end of our little fling. It would come when we left Europe or one of us got killed in battle.

  Put that way, how could I not enjoy my time with him?

  A little after midnight, after another round of kisses, DJ pulled me close and whispered into my ear, his hot breath making me tingle, “Come with me.”

  I needed no further explanation. I had already made up my mind. This didn’t mean anything beyond tonight. But for just this one night…

  I took his hand as he led us out of the exit. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want
to think. I just wanted to act on pure physical desire right now.

  Sure, I noticed that the line seemed to stretch out a mile. I noticed that the bouncers didn’t seem to let anyone in. I noticed that I still didn’t know where anyone else was.

  But did I care? Hell no. DJ had turned me on so hard that it’d forced me to reexamine my desires, and I decided having him wouldn’t hurt me. I had come to this decision myself, and I was damn sure of it.

  DJ hailed a taxi and we jumped in one with almost no wait.

  “Radisson, danke,” he said.

  Before I could ask how he’d gotten a room at the Radisson, he’d turned to me, grabbed me by the neck, and pulled me back toward him. I could only speak in gasps and moans, and it became really unfair when his hand went under my dress. Oh, fucking God, how he could work…

  My hand went to him and I felt great joy. This was going to be fun, really, really fucking fun. Oh, baby.

  But unfortunately—or maybe fortunately, I had allowed my hormones to take over my brain—the cab driver reached the Radisson in downtown Berlin before we could get frisky enough to pop up on some adult website. DJ tossed the guy two twenty euro bills, which a quick glance showed was well over a 50 percent tip, but what was money to a man like DJ? I was pretty sure that he just didn’t want anything to delay the moment. I was right there with DJ—I would have thrown the cabbie a twenty euro bill to get us out if he needed it.

  We walked inside, past all the people dressed classier than we were, and there, in the middle of an atrium, was a goddamn aquarium tank, stretching about eight stories high and featuring so many fish of so many colors it looked like a basement exhibit from Noah’s Ark. If there was anything that could have pulled my mind from indulging in what was about to happen… well, I had found it. DJ, perhaps sensing that I needed to indulge in the sight, went ahead and spoke to a concierge. Whatever was said, I didn’t hear, because I was so enamored with the tank—and people could walk in it! Holy shit!

  I didn’t know if DJ had planned to go to this hotel on purpose, or if the fish tank was coincidental. But it just felt like yet another example of DJ proving to go many levels further than any guy would, reaffirming my confidence in my decision.

  Of course, 9 a.m. would suck. And the rest of the group would wonder…

  But before my mind could wander to actual concerns and things that would detract from the heat of the moment, DJ grabbed me by the elbow and practically ran me to the elevator.

  “Come, we’re in your favorite room.”

  I looked at him with such passion and rage that I wanted to kiss him in the lobby, but DJ was now putting on the airs of making himself physically unavailable. It didn’t help matters that when we got into the elevator, an older couple in their early 50’s got in.

  Of course, this made me want him even more. He wasn’t letting me get those tasty lips or feel his hard body, and as a result, I was being driven mad. Not only that, he barely seemed to register that I was being driven mad. It was so fortunate for him that the older couple was there, because I might have forced him to kiss me and touch me. He even made small talk with the couple, forcing me to play nice as I craved his naked body.

  When we got off, DJ nodded to the couple and wished them a good evening.

  “Yeah, good evening,” I said through gritted teeth.

  As soon as the doors to the elevator closed, I slapped his ass hard, trying to break through the physical nonchalance he was giving off. He instead just gave me a casual smirk and kept walking. This guy, I swear.

  Then he stopped and again I was reduced to just awe and joy. Room 115. The same one we’d met at.

  “Something you should know about me, Sonya,” he said as he pressed a card key on the lock. He gestured with his hand, and I walked in first, looking at the magnificent king-sized bed. I was tempted to strip right there and get the process going. “Nothing that happens when you are with me is an accident.”

  With that, he shut the door behind him. He shut the lights off, allowing the city lights of Berlin to provide just enough of a glow to see his solid outline. He came over, started kissing me voraciously, and the fun began.

  I stripped his jacket off. He reached and unzipped my dress. I tore at his shirt buttons, not giving a shit if the buttons popped off. The shirt flew off in record time, and I was kissing and touching his rock hard chest and abs as he worked on removing my dress.

  By the time I’d reached his belt, all that remained was just my underwear. He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me on the bed, producing a yelp and a giggle from me as my body shivered with excitement. He was on top of me in a matter of seconds, kissing me, caressing me, putting his hands all over my body. I moaned and whimpered softly, my body twitching wherever he kissed it, tingling with a warmth that only a moment like this could bring.

  He removed my top and worked his way down between my legs. My legs were fucking shaking with anticipation. He kissed my toes. He kissed my calves. He kissed my knees. He kissed the inside of my thighs. I could not handle—

  The phone rang.

  Goddamnit.

  “DJ, break my phone before I tear your head off,” I said quickly, desperate to get him back into the spirit.

  “Which head?” he playfully said as he pulled back, leaving me almost despairing for him.

  DJ grabbed my clutch, rummaging past my guns without looking as he kissed me. He grabbed my phone and paused.

  “Brady’s calling,” he said.

  “Big fucking deal,” I said, squeezing my legs on his head. “Brady can wait. I cannot. Now come fucking make me come!”

  The phone stopped ringing, DJ gave a casual shrug, and he started kissing me again. I moaned as he reached the inner right thigh, his left hand gently soothing and almost tickling my left thigh, dancing on my stomach, reaching for my underwear, grabbing—

  The phone rang again.

  “Motherfucker!” I yelled.

  I wanted to ignore it so bad. I wanted to throw it against the window and watch either it or the window break. If anyone else had called—Carsis, one of the Brits, a coworker, my boss—I would have thrown the phone and left it to die.

  But Brady and I agreed we’d only call each other when separated if a true emergency came up. Otherwise, we’d either do our own thing or we’d message each other. As much as my sex drive had taken over my body, I still could make the executive choice to continue or stop this at any moment. And clear of mind—if not emotions—I answered the phone.

  “Give me the phone,” I told DJ, and I pressed “Answer” as angrily as I could. “This better be the most fucking important thing you’ve ever told me in your life.”

  “Sonya, this place is a fucking nightmare,” he said, his words hurried. “There are demon portals everywhere, I mean everywhere, and people here are getting bit like they’re in a spider’s web.”

  “OK, so just leave,” I said, making sure DJ remained between my legs while he talked.

  “No, Sonya, you don’t understand. We can’t leave. We have to go through the spiritual realm. They’ve locked the doors to anyone who isn’t a shifter.”

  Bloody fucking hell. Seriously. Serious-fucking-ly? Who locked the damn doors? Where the shit is Carsis?!?

  Right when things were getting good here too. Yevon damnit.

  “Stay where you are,” I said, not bothering to hide my exasperation. “Keep everyone close to you. Your phone is charged, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is anyone on Devil’s Eye?”

  “No, I already asked that.”

  “OK, good. Do what you have to to protect yourself and the group. You’re gonna have to go through the spiritual realm if the human world is locked so we’ll meet you there.”

  “OK. Wait, where are you?”

  “I was in heaven,” I said, and then I hung up.

  With a pissed off sigh, I swung my legs away from DJ’s face and stood up in just my underwear as I reached for my clothes. “Goddamn, seriously.”


  “Bad?”

  “Of course, do you think I used that phone call as an excuse?”

  DJ was smart enough not to respond as he put his clothes back on.

  “They’ve trapped everyone there who isn’t a shifter. I assume demons are guarding the exits. Brady’s packing heat so they’ll be fine for a period, but we need to head over there.”

  I was too frustrated sexually not to keep cursing, and I probably sounded like a George Carlin standup routine on loop. DJ seemed equally frustrated too, but he managed to keep his emotions under check. Bully for him, I thought. Easy for him to find someone else that he won’t become attached to.

  “What’s the plan?” he said, and though he was emotionally under control, that didn’t mean he pretended to be upbeat about the developments.

  “We’ll go to the spiritual realm right outside the club and blast our way in,” I said. “Then we grab the group, go back to the human world, and get the hell away. I should’ve known a placed called the church of anything would be problematic. God fucking damnit!”

  I kicked the desk chair in front of me. I stubbed some toes but was almost too pissed off to give a shit. Instead, I curtly asked DJ to help zip up my dress and then put my heels on.

  “Brady will never be able to say shit to me ever again,” I said. “Fucking bastard locked in—”

  “I got an idea that will get us in and out of there much quicker,” DJ said. “Let’s just leave from right here.”

  I looked at him with a jutted eyebrow. Had he been anyone else, I would’ve told him to stop wasting my fucking time. Instead, because he would make my fucking time quite enjoyable, I just stood there silently, allowing him to continue.

  “You can transport us to the spiritual realm. I can get us to the nightclub.”

  Here? Was he mad? Did that… that… it actually made sense. DJ could use his dragon form and we could fly to the club. Plus, I could finally get the chance to evaluate just how good he was at controlling his shifter side.

  “Deal,” I said before I wasted more time. If it didn’t work, well, walking would’ve taken too much time anyways.