Arcane Kiss (Talents Book 1)

by Knight, Angela

  “I’ll go with you. I need to talk to Sawyer anyway.”

  Kurt shook his head. “Jake’s got the day off. He told me he’s going to give me a hand.”

  “But…”

  “Look, you really need to recharge in case we need your magic.”

  Gen wanted to argue, but she knew better. “You’ve got a point.”

  He turned to Dave, but before he could say whatever was on his mind, the tiger looked up from his roast. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “Good.” Kurt sighed. “Well, might as well get it over with.”

  * * *

  She dreamed of Kurt. That look in his eyes at the table, so hot and male and hungry. His mouth on her nipple, the swirl of his tongue over her clit. The feel of him, urgent between her thighs, his cock, thick and long, filling her so completely. She spun in the dream’s heat, in the images of his big hands and his broad shoulders and his eyes. The feel of muscle rolling under her fingertips as she clung to him…

  Something sank claws into her magic and shook her so hard, her eyes flew open to stare up at the darkened ceiling. She must have slept for hours. “What the…”

  The roar of a tiger shattered the night. Dave? Kurt? Gen flung herself out of bed and ran for the stairs. Only to stop dead at the door. Clothes. She needed clothes…

  Glancing down, she saw she’d gone to sleep in her shorts and a shirt, intending nothing more than a nap. She took off again, racing down the hall and thumping down the stairs, clinging to the banister as she hit every other step in her haste.

  Something was trying to get through her wards.

  She tried to fling the front door open, but the knob didn’t turn. Gen had to fumble with the latch until she managed to flip the deadbolt, then she was out the door, off the porch and bounding into the night, the sound of the tiger’s roar in her ears. She had no idea what time it was.

  The vibration in her protesting wards set her teeth on edge like the sound of a dentist drill.

  Dave’s voice rolled out in an inhuman roar. “Get the hell away from our house!”

  Genevieve almost ran headlong into a tree in the dark. She caught herself against the trunk at the last moment and stopped, panting, listening.

  A female voice spoke, one she didn’t recognize. “You shouldn’t be involved in this mess, cat. The witch interferes where she has no business and does more damage than she knows.”

  “She does more damage? You murdered Fred Briggs! You shot my friend and forced him to meld before his time. And I’m going to kill you for it.” His voice dropped into a ripping snarl that chilled even Gen.

  She laughed. “You have about as much chance against us as Briggs did.” Even as she spoke, the witch probed Gen’s ward with licking tongues of magic, searching for weakness.

  Genevieve set her teeth against the pressure and poured more power into her spell as she edged closer, following the sound of their voices.

  “You’re not a fool,” the woman continued in that chilling, oh-so-reasonable voice. “Do you really want to have to register in that damned NTRA database so they can conveniently track us down, imprison us, kill us? Whenever they want? You’ve seen the demonstrations, you’ve felt the bigotry. Hell, they’ve got you spending your life in a cage! You, a war hero!”

  “The world is full of assholes, lady. I’m looking at two of them right now.”

  Genevieve closed her eyes and looked with magical senses, without the distraction of sight. A woman’s glowing form faced him on the other side of the revolving wall of symbols that was the ward.

  Yeah, that’s the Arc, wearing a Spook Suit. And she’d brought a friend.

  The polar bear stood behind her, massive and terrifying, with a bullet-shaped head that looked tiny in proportion to his thick, powerful body. Even on all fours, the Feral was huge. The top of the woman’s head barely came to his shoulder. He glowed incredibly bright -- brighter than the woman, brighter even than Dave. The glow seemed to throb Gen’s eyelids.

  Power streamed from the woman’s fingers as she held her hands bare inches from the ward. Raking downward, she sent magic streaming from her fingertips to claw at the sigil wall.

  “We regret Briggs’ death, but it was necessary,” the bear rumbled. “A sacrifice is no sacrifice if doesn’t hurt, and killing him did.”

  “My heart bleeds for you, dickhead. So why the fuck kill him? Exactly what are you trying to do?”

  “Free our people,” the witch spat. “Keep them safe from the Norms who’d strip us of our rights and deny us the opportunities we’ve bled and died for. The president and his Congress of bigots piss all over the Constitution they vowed to defend. They deserve…” She broke off.

  Dave said exactly what Gen was thinking. “That’s why you’re doing this. It’s a fucking mass assassination attempt!”

  “It’s more than an attempt, cat. We’re going to do it.”

  “You idiot, killing them would just validate their argument that Talents are dangerous. Even if you pull it off, more bigots will take their place. We won’t have a prayer of avoiding the camps you’re so worried about, because you’ll have turned even the decent Norms against us. You murdered Fred for nothing!”

  “Yes, now,” the witch said bitterly. “That stupid Arc cunt broke the spell and wasted his death. Now we’ll have to make another sacrifice. Another Feral has to die -- and it’s on your head, witch.” She raised her voice. “And yes, I know you’re there, Reyes. I can sense you hiding in the bushes like a coward.”

  “You’re one to talk about hiding,” Genevieve snarled. “You shot Kurt’s Familiar from ambush.”

  “Which I wouldn’t have done, if he’d stayed out of it.”

  Dave sneered. “She doesn’t like NTRA, so her solution is to kill enough people to guarantee they lock us all up. She’s no different from the Caliphuckers. Same Goddamn psychopathy masquerading as a cause.”

  “Fred wasn’t the only one you killed, was he?” Gen demanded, knowing she was right. “A spell designed to murder five hundred plus would have required more sacrifices. Probably a lot more. That’s why I couldn’t decipher the spell -- it was part of a larger working.”

  Dave’s tail whipped around his striped flanks. “And they all died for nothing, because Genevieve copied the fragment and gave it to the cops. How long do you think it’s going to be before the Secret Service knows exactly who you are?”

  “The Feds will track down every sacrifice, every last section of that spell, and break it all,” Gen gritted, pouring more power into the casting.

  The witch sneered. “I’ll activate it long before they get it down.”

  “You’ll never get the chance. You’ll either die resisting arrest or spend the rest of your life on death row. Human sacrifice is a capital crime.”

  “They’ll have to catch us first.” The Arc flung out a hand, slamming a spell into the ward.

  Pain exploded in Gen’s body, and she fell to one knee, gasping as she fought to reinforce the barrier and keep the witch out. As she struggled, she heard a low, rumbling growl of anticipation coming from the bear. If that thing gets through, it’s going to rip us both apart.

  Where the heck is Kurt? And why didn’t I grab my cell? She’d left it lying on the nightstand, where it did her absolutely no good.

  “We’re going to gut you, witch.” The Arc dug her fingertips in the air just beyond the sigils as if grabbing a fistful of magic. “You used a lot of power casting this. When I break it, the backlash will take out whatever you’ve got left. We’ll kill you, and we’ll take our time.”

  Behind her, the bear stared at Genevieve with vicious anticipation in his eyes.

  “You’re not through the ward yet,” Gen sneered, though her heart pounded in terror.

  “Only a matter of time.” The woman let go and paced along the perimeter of the circle, studying the sigils, looking for weakness. Her hand flashed out.

  Agony raked through Genevieve’s skull, so savage it was all she could do not to
scream.

  Within the ward, a sigil distorted. The Arc froze, staring hard at it with a predatory intensity. “There. You must’ve been getting tired when you cast that.”

  Oh fuck.

  Another swipe of mystical claws, as if the Arc had manifested an animal form like her partner’s. Sinking her fingers into the energy field, she twisted her wrist, ripping at it. Genevieve poured more magic into the ward. Despair rolled over her as she realized she was rapidly running through the energy that food and a nap had given her. The Arcanist was right. She couldn’t keep this up much longer. When the ward fell, she and Dave were fucked.

  No, Goddamnit. Dad didn’t raise me to give up. You never, never, never give up! The longer she could keep them at bay, the greater was the chance that Kurt or a cop or somebody would arrive to drive the killers off. All I have to do is hold on a little longer.

  Dropping to her knees, Genevieve planted her palms on the lawn. Her heart hammered with anxiety, but she forced herself to ignore the fear. She began to chant, drawing energy from the earth, from the trees, from the magic of the sanctuary all around them.

  This was her type of magic. As a healer, she knew how to connect with nature, with the magic generated by all life. It might not be enough given her magical exhaustion, but it was something.

  She poured her power into the ground and up into the wards, drawing on the magic, the life, that filled the circle with her.

  Dave backed away from the ward, retreating until he stood beside her. Thrusting a glowing human arm from his shoulder, he grabbed her forearm. “Draw on me,” he said softly.

  She didn’t dare look away from the ward she was fighting to reinforce. “But if they break through, you’ll need your magic to defend yourself.”

  “And if they don’t break through, I won’t. I’d rather keep them the fuck out.”

  She didn’t even bother trying to argue. Thrusting her aura against his, Gen began to draw on his magic just as she’d used her own to reinforce Parvati’s life force. But now she drew his magic in, funneling it through her body and sending it out to the wards.

  The witch leaped back with a curse as the sigil she’d seized grew brighter again, burning her. “Bitch, you’re just postponing the inevitable!” she spat.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Dave sneered, and went into a flawless imitation of the Wicked Witch of the West. “I’ll get you, my pretty! You and your little tiger too!” He added a mocking cackle.

  “And we will get you, you striped fucker!” the Arc spat. “Let’s see you laugh when my bear rips out your throat.”

  Dave bared his scimitar fangs. “I’m shaking, Witchypoo.”

  “You should be.” The witch eyed them. “Because what’s sauce for the goose… is a pretty good idea.” She turned and gestured to the bear. The huge Feral moved up beside her.

  Genevieve froze in horror as the Arc sank one hand into the bear’s glowing shoulder, drew back the other, and slashed her hand across the ward.

  Pain exploded across her consciousness, blinding, ice-cold, ripping into her very life force. Genevieve screamed.

  Dave echoed her, human voice ringing over the tiger’s agonized roar.

  She had never felt such pain from a magical attack, not even during her mother’s merciless magical combat practice sessions. She might have been able to fight off the witch alone, but with the bear reinforcing the Arc’s power…

  Dave gasped what she was thinking. “We’re… fucked!”

  Stubborn rebellion surged through her. “Not yet… Not…” Teeth gritted, Genevieve gathered her magic and waited, feeling the witch draw back, preparing another thrust. She had to time this exactly right.

  This was an insane gamble. If it didn’t work, they’d be helpless. It was also the only real chance either of them had.

  The Arc drew back and sliced. As she dug into the ward, Genevieve drew in Dave’s power. She added it to her own, along with the power of the ward itself.

  And slammed it all into the bitch’s hand.

  The ward blinked out as the witch went flying with a shriek. She hit the ground in a rolling tumble as the bear roared in anguish. Its manifestation winked out.

  Staring through her closed eyes, Genevieve saw the shape of a big man, staggering, clutching his head in pain. He reeled over to the fallen witch, picked her up, and swung her over his shoulder before staggering off into the dark.

  Beside her, Dave’s glowing form collapsed.

  Genevieve’s gaze darkened and went black.

  * * *

  It was 9:30 when Kurt and Jake headed back to the house.

  “Fuck of a day,” his friend commented from the passenger side.

  “Yeah. Thanks for going with me.” First had come the funeral arrangements, then a series of calls to his contacts with the American Association for Feral Rights.

  Then they’d headed over to the Sheriff’s Office for the meeting with Sawyer to tell him what they’d learned. The detective had thanked Kurt for arranging the necropsy -- the vet had delivered the bullet that afternoon. After that came a series of follow up questions.

  “How many times am I going to have to answer the exact same questions?” Kurt grumbled to Jake as he took the turn into BFS.

  “Probably through the trial.”

  “What trial?”

  “Either the Arc’s -- or yours.”

  Kurt flipped him off.

  As he pulled into the drive, his headlights swept over something striped lying in the grass next to a pale body. Kurt’s heart convulsed in his chest, and he stomped on the SUV’s brakes. “What the fuck? Dave? Gen?”

  As Jake swore viciously, Kurt threw open the truck door and closed his eyes to look with magical senses. Oh, thank God. A dim glow radiated from the two figures.

  “They’re alive,” Jake grunted and threw the passenger door open even as Kurt leaped out and sprang into a dead run toward the collapsed forms.

  Kurt fell to his knees next to Genevieve, who lay on her belly, head turned to the side. Reaching through the cool silk of her hair, he sought the pulse in her throat. He blew out a breath in relief when his fingertips found the strong, even throb.

  Next to him, Jake pulled out his phone and started making calls.

  “Genevieve! Gen, wake up!” There was no sign of visible injuries, no gunshot or bite wounds. No blood. Her skin felt a little cool, but he couldn’t tell if it was shock or just lying on the cool ground.

  “She hurt?” Jake knelt by the tiger and started running his hands over the thick fur in the light of his cell phone flashlight app.

  “I don’t see anything on her back, but I don’t want to move her to check her front. Don’t smell any blood, though.”

  “Me neither.” Jake breathed deep and grimaced. “Hell of a lot of burned magic, though.”

  He was right. The air had that post-thunderstorm reek Kurt associated with the aftermath of a powerful spell, but there was no skin-tingling sense of active magic. “What the hell happened to the ward?” Closing his eyes again, he saw no sign of the floating sigils Genevieve had worked all afternoon to cast. “It’s fucking gone!”

  “The Arc must have destroyed it.”

  “Where’s that ambulance?”

  “Five minutes out.”

  The assassins must have attacked them. But where were they?

  And why were Gen and Dave still alive?

  He stroked the hair away from Gen’s face. Her long lashes fluttered at his touch. “Genevieve, wake up, honey. Come on, Gen…”

  To his vast relief, she stirred, frowning, her eyes slitting open. “Kurt?”

  “Yeah. Are you hurt anywhere?”

  She lifted a shaking hand to her forehead and hissed in pain. “Oh God, my head…”

  “Probably backlash. Your wards are gone. What happened? Did they hit you?”

  A frown formed between her brows. “I… don’t think so. Just… just magic.”

  “The Arc… and that fucking bear showed up…” Dave rasped, lifting his g
reat furry head. “The Arc tried to break the ward.”

  “Must have worked. It’s down.”

  “No, that wasn’t her. Gen did it herself. Drew on my magic, hers, and the wards, and blew both those assholes across the yard. I don’t know what happened after that.” He rose on all fours, only to immediately sink back down on his belly. “Oh God, I think I’m going to vomit.”

  “Don’t,” Genevieve begged. “If you start, I’ll go too.”

  “So you’re both suffering from backlash?” Kurt demanded. “You weren’t otherwise hurt?”

  “Nothing’s bleeding, if that’s what you mean.” Dave’s glowing eyes slid shut. “No inconvenient holes anywhere.”

  Jake rose to his feet. “Then I’m going to see if I can find a magic trail.” His lion manifested in an explosion of golden light as he walked off, maned head lowered to the ground. Cats weren’t bloodhounds by any means, but Ferals could still sense magic.

  “Kurt, we’re in trouble,” Gen said over the cycling wail of approaching sirens.

  “Yeah, I noticed that.”

  “No, I mean more trouble even than we thought there was. The Arc is a woman. This spell of hers is designed to kill the President and every member of Congress.”

  “What?” Kurt stared at her, trying to make sense of it all. “How the hell is a spell supposed to do that?”

  “I have no idea. Even if she blew up the White House and the Capitol Building with Congress in session, there are safeguards in place to keep the federal government from collapsing. It just wouldn’t work.” Her pretty mouth set in a hard line. “But what it would be guaranteed to do is turn three hundred million people against every Talent in the country.”

  Dave’s tail flipped back and forth. “They’d roast us and the marshmallows over the same bonfire.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Kurt sat back on his heels and raked his hands through his hair with a grunt. “Sawyer and I were afraid it was something nasty, given the number of people my AAFR contact thinks they may have murdered. But we had no idea it was this bad.”

  She lifted her head and studied him with wide blue eyes. “What did you find out? And how?”