Abducted by Magic

by Kelli McCracken

  Chapter 9

  ~Katarina~

  Roark opened the door to Samara’s dorm room and motioned me to go inside. My stomach did a somersault as our arms brushed against each other. The electrifying sensation that followed began on my scalp, traveled down my neck, and spread throughout my body. He had remained quiet on the walk back to the dorm, after we left the failed transference. Even now, as he shut the door and entered his ward’s room, he didn’t speak to me nor look my way.

  The magnetic force drawing me to him wouldn’t ease. I resisted as best as I could, not out of fear but for respect for him. It couldn’t be easy for him to be in Samara’s room knowing she was gone. I sensed his sadness and anger. She was his responsibility. Seeing her belongings likely brought back all the guilt he felt.

  As I surveyed the room, I walked toward the four-poster bed and touched the decorative column. It was a compulsion. I didn’t want to be here, but something about the room spoke to me. It was as if I could feel Samara’s presence. Hell, maybe I could. I hadn’t forgotten about my past despite how much I tried.

  Shaking off the thoughts, I cleared my mind or at least made the attempt. Roark was staring at me. I sensed it. The second I glanced his way, I confirmed my connection to him was accurate. When he met my gaze, he lowered his to the floor and walked toward the glass doors of a balcony. He opened them, allowing cool air to filter into the room.

  I welcomed the breeze. Samara’s room was stuffy and sweltering. Her perfume lingered, and as heavenly as it smelled, it was overpowering. Why had we been ordered to come here, of all places? This was too much. I didn’t want to be in a dead girl’s room. Roark didn’t need to be here, either.

  My heart thumped against my chest when he turned to look at me again. He left the balcony doors and made slow strides in my direction. All I could do was stare. His eyes captivated me. So did his broad shoulders and thick arms, the way they strained against his shirt. He was impeccable.

  “Are you okay, Katarina?”

  Nodding was the only response I could muster, but it wasn’t enough for him. He curled his hand around my arm and tugged. I stepped closer, decreasing the space between us.

  “Are you sure?” The raspy sound of his voice made me shiver. His gaze fell to my shoulders as his brows pinched. “Are you cold? I will close the doors if—”

  “I’m not cold, Roark. I just …”

  He gave me a moment to respond. When I didn’t, he leaned closer to my face. “Are you still afraid of me?”

  “No.” My eyes lowered to his lips, the groove in the top one, perfect. “I’m afraid of what’s going to happen to me. A lot is at stake.”

  Roark cupped my face and thumbed over my cheek. “My brother and I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He winced a second later. “But I understand your concern. Why should you feel safe with us when Samara is dead?”

  Before I could respond, he lowered his hand and turned away. His pain quaked through me so much that I couldn’t move. He left me standing by the bed as he walked over to Samara’s desk. His shoulders held tension, the muscles beneath his shirt rippling as he reached out to touch a picture on a shelf. I couldn’t see who was in it. I just assumed it was his ward.

  “You’re looking at this wrong.” I found the words after several minutes of contemplating what to say. “Yes, I’m worried what the council might do to me, but I trust you and Quinn. I’m afraid of the power inside me. What if my body rejects it before we can transfer it to someone else?”

  “If that was going to happen, it would have.”

  “You don’t know that.” The grittiness in my voice had him tensing, but I didn’t hold back. “No human has received the power. You have no way of knowing what might happen. Be honest with me.”

  “I am.”

  As I approached him, he did nothing but stand in silence. His hand lowered from the picture, back to his side. By the time I stood behind him, I found the wooden frame.

  Samara was in the picture, but so were four guys, two of whom were Roark and Quinn. One resembled the man I’d seen standing near the oak tree at Samara’s burial ceremony. It had to be Jax. I assumed the last one was Slade.

  Roark was reminiscing of happier times with Samara and at the same time avoiding me. When I touched his back, he spun around and faced me. He was hiding his emotions behind a wall. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t reach him, and I hated it.

  “Roark, put yourself in my position for a minute. My mind is blown by all of this. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now my life is in jeopardy…and it’s not the only thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Realizing I had said too much, I rubbed my lips together and shook my head. “It’s nothing.”

  Just as I turned to walk away this time, Roark gripped my wrist. He didn’t hurt me, but his touch brought a tidal wave of emotions to the surface, especially when he placed both of his hands on my face and leaned in a few inches from my nose.

  “You’re lying. Tell me what you meant, Katarina. What else is in jeopardy?”

  “My heart.” I clamped my hand over my mouth, but it was too late. The words were out. My mind had a temporary lapse in judgment and my subconscious had taken full advantage.

  Roark released me. His gaze lowered to the left side of my chest like he could see through flesh and bone and straight into one of the organs giving me life. He reached forward, but hesitated. “What is wrong with your heart? Are you ill?”

  “No, I’m not ill, which is why I said it’s nothing. Let’s drop it.” Another attempt to turn away ended with him grabbing both my arms, pulling me toward him.

  “If it was nothing, you wouldn’t have mentioned it.” He scanned my face, his brows squeezing together in a curious manner. They relaxed a second later. So did his grip on my arms. “This is about the connection, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t speak. Saying no would be a lie. Admitting it would be embarrassing. My best bet was to keep my mouth shut.

  “Do you think you’re the only one who feels this way?” he asked.

  “No. Quinn cares about me too; at least his actions say he does.”

  Roark jabbed his finger into his chest and glared at me. “And my actions don’t?”

  The thunderous sound of his voice made me flinch. Regret flooded his eyes, but it was too late. He couldn’t take back what he’d said or how he said it.

  “No, Roark, your actions say I’m just a mess you’re trying to clean up. You can’t wait until I go home.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Whatever.” I huffed and turned away.

  I wasn’t two steps across the room before he got in front of me, cutting me off. When our eyes met, he didn’t say anything. His actions...they said plenty.

  In one swift motion, he pulled me to his chest and gripped a handful of my hair. I cried out just as his mouth covered mine. Lips as soft and smooth as velvet parted my lips. Then his tongue slipped inside.

  My body melded to Roark’s. Firm, taught muscles rippled under my touch when I gripped the back of his shirt, anchoring him to me.

  I moaned at the heat rising within me. The air between us turned sultry, leaving my clothes clinging to my skin. Every part of me ached, but not because I was in pain. It ached for him.

  My feet left the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist when he pressed my back against the wall. His hands lowered to my ass, cupping and squeezing it as a growl rumbled within him. Knowing I was the cause of that sound excited me. It vibrated my chest, making me squirm.

  Roark broke our kiss and lowered his mouth to my chin. He tugged my shirt aside as his lips slid to my neck, his tongue tracing a path to my shoulder. If he hadn’t been holding me up, I would have fallen to the floor. Every part of me was in this moment with him, savoring every touch and kiss.

  His teeth grazed my skin as his mouth drifted lower. A chill spread over my body, causing my nipples to tighten. I couldn’t take much more of his teasing. The magic pulsed in response to him, cre
ating an inferno inside of me… I needed him in the worst way. I needed him now.

  “Roark,” I whispered. “Please.”

  He growled again. I hoped it was his resolve crumbling. And just as I was prepared to let him take this to whatever level he wanted, he pulled away.

  Ice water couldn’t have been more of a shock to my system. The absence of his body against mine jarred me. I opened my eyes to see why he’d pulled away and found him retreating toward the window.

  This time, I followed.

  “Talk to me, Roark.”

  “I’m sorry, Katarina. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why?”

  My question went unanswered. He reached the window and gripped the frame, avoiding me at all costs.

  “Because you’re human, that’s why.”

  Standing behind him, I fought to find the right words. While I didn’t doubt my humanity played into it, my gut said there was more. “Is that the only reason?’

  Another round of silence greeted me, but I refused to back down. This was the most emotion I’d seen in him since I arrived. For Christ’s sake, we just made out. That fact alone warranted a conversation.

  “We may be stuck in here for hours,” I said. “Might as well answer me, because I’m not dropping this. What other reason—aside from me being a human—would you have to not finish what we started? Am I not your type?”

  He turned just enough that I could see his profile. “I have plenty of good reasons why I shouldn’t kiss you let alone touch you the way I did.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Oh yeah? Name one.”

  Our eyes met this time. He stammered to answer. When the words didn’t come out, he shook his head and gazed out the window again. “I’m a monster.”

  “Just because you’re a supernatural doesn’t make you a monster.”

  Pivoting, he faced me again. His inner struggle showed in the way his face pinched. “I am a monster, Katarina. If you saw me, the real me, you would run away as fast as you could.”

  I gazed at him, lifting my chin defiantly. “You’re wrong, and you’re lying. There is more to this. I sense it.”

  He growled and threw his hands in the air. “I give up. You won’t listen to reason.”

  “Roark—”

  “No. I’m not doing this.” He brushed past me and stormed toward the door. The lock clicked, the door swung open, and he stepped into the hall.

  My panic set in. “Are you leaving me here by myself?”

  “No. I’ll be back. I just need some air. If you value your life at all, you’ll stay here.”

  The door shut with a thud. I stared, aimlessly, not sure whether to heed his word or follow him. By the time I made it to the door, he would be long gone. After the glares and whispers I’d received from the other witches in this academy, I didn't feel safe roaming the corridor in search of him.

  Now that I was in Samara’s room, alone, my curiosity ran wild. I didn’t know much about her, but I didn’t plan to rifle through her belongings. Still, I needed to learn more about her, not just the type of witch she was, but who she’d been as an individual. For whatever reason, she had trusted me with her power.

  Maybe I was the only person she had seen the night she died. It had to be the case. I didn’t recall anyone else being in the vicinity. The cold weather kept a lot of people inside. Had I not been celebrating my promotion, I would have been home, too.

  When I crossed the room and approached Samara’s desk, I studied the pens, paper, notes, and other items she had left on it. It looked like a typical student desk, minus the gemstones, pouches of herbs, and tarot cards.

  I made another sweep over the cards, noting the way they seemed to whisper to me. My past wanted to catch up to my present, and I was fighting it every step of the way. The moment I realized I was reaching for the cards, I jerked my hand back. In the process, I knocked off one of the books sitting near the edge. The old, worn leather felt smooth against my palms as I picked it up and flipped it over.

  Before I could return it to the desk, my curiosity fueled my urge to open the book and see what was inside. The first page revealed handwritten words, ones I realized were Samara’s after reading a couple of sentences.

  Guilt flushed my cheeks, making them burn beyond comfort. This was Samara’s journal. The things she wrote about had nothing to do with school or lessons. It was personal things.

  Within the first paragraph, she mentioned Zander and Draven and how she could never choose between them. Each word drew me to the next until I was half way down the page. I shouldn’t be reading her personal thoughts, but part of me hoped I would find answers to my questions, like why she had chosen me, if we’d met before that night, and whether she knew of another way to transfer her powers.

  Checking the door one last time, I listened for any footsteps in the hall. When silence greeted me, I finished reading what was left on the current page before flipping to the next.

  After a few sentences, I chuckled. Samara was pissed off at Roark and Jax on this particular day.

  I swear, every time I try to have fun, one of them is always there to spoil it. How embarrassing to be right in the middle of having sex, screaming in pleasure, and just as I’m about to get off, the two biggest rock-for-brains assholes sworn to protect me come bursting through the door. Zander looked horrified when they shouted at him to get off me. Next time Zander and I hook up, I’m going to block the tracking spell. Let them find me then. Goddess, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative of what they do, but sometimes a girl just wants to have fun and screw her boyfriend. Maybe I should find them girlfriends...

  While I sympathized with Samara, I imagined how Roark must have felt when he realized he was rescuing her from consensual sex with her boyfriend and not an attack. He had to be just as embarrassed as she was. He didn’t speak about his feelings often, or so Quinn had mentioned, but he felt a lot. The connection we shared proved that. I hadn’t figured out how to read him all the time, but there were moments, just like earlier, when I could sense his emotions.

  I flipped through more pages, reading over the entries, most of which recounted what Samara and her friend, Rose, did together. A few weeks later, another entry spoke about the council and how one of the witches was always making rude comments about Samara’s position in the coven and the power she controlled. One entry she discussed meeting a human guy and how she was drawn to him. I skipped ahead and found another entry about how she and this same guy, Thomas, were dating.

  How could she have dated a human if it was forbidden?

  A few more paragraphs in, and I had my answer. She hid their relationship from the council. So Samara was breaking the rules. Would it be enough to cause someone to kill her?

  Growing impatient, I skimmed over a few other pages before going to the last two. The next to the last page was one of the shortest passages I’d seen.

  I wanted to tell Thomas the truth when I saw him today, but I couldn’t. To be honest, I don’t know what’s going to happen with us. If I can’t find a way to make changes to the rules… I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t jeopardize the coven, and I don’t want to lose my position as the Peacekeeper. Without this power, the realms will collide, and my people… Goddess, this hurts.

  So Samara was a Peacekeeper. I made a mental note to ask Quinn or Roark what that meant. It had something to do with her power and the realms, but even that confused me. What were realms?

  The last page came into sight as I shifted my eyes and began reading the words.

  I’m not sure if I want to go through with this, because it’s not my last resort. I have to find Rose and the others. The only reason I’m considering this is because I don’t want to be banned for using old magic. Ha. If the council only knew the truth. They have no idea how much power I’m harnessing inside me. I should have graduated by now and moved on to the next level of my apprenticeship, but I know it’s Melynn and her cronies. She’s just jealous and wants my power, but she can�
��t have it. If I ever have to give it up, I have the power to decide who and when. No one is going to stop me from revealing the truth or securing a safe future for the coven. My day is coming, but first, I have to get through tonight.

  None of it made sense to me, other than the fact Samara was up to something. I wondered if her guardians had been aware of what she was doing. Maybe Slade knew and it was the reason he went with her that night.

  Trust your instincts.

  I glanced around the room, expecting to find someone inside with me, but I was the only occupant. The voice I heard at the burial ceremony had returned.

  “Hello? Is someone there?”

  I wasn’t the least bit surprised when no one answered. It was just like when I was younger—the voices, the apparitions, the judgment in my friends’ eyes. At least I hadn’t seen anyone this time, but hearing things didn’t make me feel any better. I refused to accept this part of me.

  Once I returned Samara’s journal to her desk, I ambled toward the glass doors. The breeze, cool on my skin, alerted me to how much I was sweating. The air would do me some good.

  After several breaths, it didn’t feel like my brain was full of fog. I wrapped my hands over my arms and stepped outside, taking in the starry sky and the moon. It was breathtaking even though it was no longer full.

  The balcony overlooked a large garden in the center of the coven, between the dorm rooms and the main building. A mix of flowers and trimmed hedges made up most of the vegetation, and a few benches sat on different sides. I imagined some of the students using it to read books and study. It would be the perfect spot.

  As I leaned across the rail and admired the scenery, a shadow moved below. It darted from one corner, near the north side of the building, to the area below me. I struggled to make out who or what it was, but the moon didn’t provide enough light.

  Perhaps it was one of the students, but the speed at which it moved… What was I thinking? I was in a witch coven, surrounded by supernatural beings. The lore around vampires said they could move fast. It would explain what I saw, but no one had mentioned vampires being around the coven. Could witches move fast too?