“I spoke to Yvonne Carson with the American Association for Feral Rights after I left the funeral home this afternoon. I told her about your theory that the spell on Dad was part of a larger working. Bad news is, she said there weren’t any cases of Ferals killed with an Arcanist spell anyone has been able to detect. But there have been six murders of Ferals by other Ferals in the past year. In every case, the cops have charged somebody with the crime, even though the bite wounds are totally inconsistent with that particular manifestation’s bite. All of the wounds look like some kind of bear.”
“They charged the wrong Ferals anyway?”
“Yeah. AAFR’s lawyers pointed out that the manifestation is obviously a bear, but no dice. The cops and prosecutors are all convinced the cases are unrelated, and they’ve accused AAFR of trying to cover for the Ferals who’ve been charged. Never mind that the victims are Ferals too. Even the judges refuse to listen. The Ferals can’t even get out on bail.”
Genevieve sat up, moving as if she was afraid her head was going to fall off. Kurt steadied her with a hand on her lean forearm. “That sounds like some kind of spell.”
“Pretty much. I have a feeling that if you hadn’t been there, I’d be sitting in jail right now waiting to go on trial for Dad’s murder.”
“There’s no way you would’ve been convicted. Any half-decent defense attorney would have been able to argue it wasn’t a tiger that killed Fred.”
“Maybe getting people convicted isn’t the point. What if the idea is to delay the investigation until they can finish killing everybody and complete all the sections of this assassination spell?”
“That does make sense. The question is, how close are they to completing the…” Gen broke off. “How many people did you say were dead?”
“Six.”
“And your Dad makes seven.” Her voice dropped to a mutter. “No wonder the Arc was so pissed.”
“Yeah, that occurred to me too.” Seven had been considered a magical number going back all the way to ancient Babylon. “You think Fred was supposed to be the final sacrifice? That the spell you broke was the last piece?”
“I can’t say for sure, but it does sound that way.” Gen hesitated. “Kurt, she said they’re going to have to kill another Feral. That the sacrifice will be on my head. What if they go after you?”
“If that bitch thinks it’ll be that easy, she’s got another think coming. They were only able to kill Dad because they ambushed him. I know they’re coming, and I’m going to kick their asses.”
Dave bared his teeth, whiskers bristling. “And we’ll help him.”
Gen smiled. “So will I.”
“You already have,” Kurt told her. “Hundreds of people would already be dead if you hadn’t insisted on breaking that spell.”
“My Mom would have killed me if I’d been dumb enough to leave it active, especially since it used a human sacrifice as fuel.”
“You know more about Arc magic than I do. What do we do now -- other than keep them from killing us?”
“Get in touch with the Feds, have them send government Arcanists to all the other crime scenes to break all the sections of the spell. Now. Tonight, because if that bitch manages to finish it, it’s going to activate and the President and Congress will die.”
“Followed by a hell of a lot of innocent Talents,” Dave growled. “It’d just take them longer.”
It hit Kurt suddenly that Genevieve and Dave had almost been among those innocents. He looked at her, taking in the curves of her features in the moonlight, the gleam of those big blue eyes.
Before he could think better of it, Kurt leaned forward and took her mouth gently, tenderly. She opened to him. Her lips felt so deliciously soft and yielding as she seemed to melt into his arms. Kissing him back, tongue swirling, her hands clenching in the fabric of his knit shirt.
In the back of his mind, he was aware of Dave rising to his feet and padding off deeper into surrounding trees, as if to give them a little privacy.
His buddy always had been a damn good wingman.
Judging by the sirens, they wouldn’t have long before they were ass deep in cops. Kurt wasn’t sure he cared.
He pulled back just far enough to whisper, “I almost lost you tonight.”
“We barely know each other,” she pointed out, though there was a yearning note to her voice.
He sank back on his knees, drawing her tighter against him as he stared into her lovely eyes. “Does it matter?”
“It should. I keep telling myself we shouldn’t keep acting on this attraction -- that it’s just a product of a traumatic situation, hormones, and anxiety driving us to do something dumb. And all that’s true.”
Kurt smoothed her silken curls back from her face. “Yeah, it’s a pretty extreme situation.” Stroking his fingertips over the line of her jaw, he kissed her softly. “Maybe it is just hormones and tragedy. But what if it’s more?”
“It probably isn’t.”
“Maybe. But right now, it feels pretty damn amazing. And I’ve got to admit, I’d like to find something in this fucking nightmare that doesn’t feel like the end of the world as I know it. I…”
“Jesus H Christ!” Sawyer snarled, suddenly looming out of the darkness. “Did you get me out of bed to watch you two make out?”
“Ahh!” Genevieve jerked so violently, she almost fell on her ass.
Stoli’s fury heated Kurt’s blood as he steadied her. He glared at the man. “No, Goddamnit, I found her lying here in a heap. I thought she was dead.”
The anger faded from Sawyer’s face as his gaze softened into something like sympathy. “I guess I can see that. What happened?”
“Can we go inside?” Genevieve interrupted. “My head feels like it’s about to explode.”
* * *
Half an hour later, Gen, Kurt, Sawyer and Jake sat around the kitchen table over cups of coffee. Dave sat on his haunches at the table’s other end, golden eyes alert and glowing.
They’d briefed the detective as the crime scene team worked the yard. And the cop wasn’t happy about what he’d heard. Now he grimaced. “I’ve got to call the sheriff, get him to bring the FBI and Secret Service in on this.”
Genevieve nodded. “Mom says the Feds have a pretty good Arc squad.”
Sawyer frowned deeply. “I don’t get how these spells would still be working, when at least one of them is a year old or better. How the hell is that even possible?”
Gen considered the question. “From what Kurt said, all the involved jurisdictions have really small departments. Too small to have an Arcanist, because a good Arc would have detected the spell.”
“If they knew to look for it.”
“Since standard procedure is to scan the scene in any case involving magic, they’d have seen it. Spells like the one I broke last night are hard to miss.”
Sawyer shook his head. “But even so, they would have had to draw a spell on the ground and kill the sacrifice inside the circle, right? How did the detectives not notice that?”
“Probably used some kind of paint you can’t see in visible light. Ultraviolet or something. Point is, if they didn’t physically erase the spell, it would still be running, given the sacrifice used to power it. Which is why the Feds need to get people there to break those spells now.”
He sighed and rose to his feet, pulling the phone out of his pocket. “Guess it’s time to start waking people up before that fucking spell goes off.” Sawyer walked into the hall. “Sheriff? Sawyer. We’ve got a problem…”
“That,” Dave muttered, “is putting it mildly.”
* * *
Genevieve and Kurt sat on the couch in the living room, nursing glasses of wine. Sawyer had left with his notebook full of scribbled notes. He’d already been on the phone with the local FBI Special Agent in Charge.
The SAC seemed to be taking the situation seriously, thank God. She said she’d be calling her bosses to arrange to have FBI Arcanists visit the six other scenes to investigat
e and break any spells they found there. In the meantime, the Feds would get all those officials out of Washington to make them harder to target.
Jake had headed off to bed in what had been Fred’s room; he planned to stay with them for the next couple days to help protect Genevieve. Tonight’s attack had proved just how necessary that was.
Gen sipped her Riesling, savoring the cool, crisp taste. Overhead, water rushed through pipes as Jake took a shower.
Dave padded through on his way out the front door. “I’ll take the first watch.”
Kurt looked around at him. “I’ll be out to spell you at three.”
“I’ll take another shot at those wards in the morning,” Genevieve told them both. “Hopefully tomorrow night we’ll all be able to get some sleep.”
The tiger sighed. “Let’s hope so.” A moment later, they heard the door open and close behind him.
Genevieve listened to the rush of water through the pipes with longing. “I am in desperate need of a shower.”
“So am I.” Kurt’s golden gaze flicked to hers and heated at the implications. His voice dropped to a deep, low purr. “We could always conserve water.”
Genevieve had to smile at that. “I’m all for being green.”
He stood, caught her around the waist, and pulled her toward him as he sank back down again, tugging her down on his lap. Gen let herself sink against him, enjoying the hard strength she found in the warm circle of his arms. The feel of him gave her a desperately needed sense of safety after the stark fear of tonight and the unsettling realization of how much rode on what they did next.
Kurt kissed her, brushing his lips back and forth over hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth to circle and stroke. He tasted of Riesling, sweet and fruity, and the cool tingle of magic. His arms tightened around her waist, and one big hand sliding down over her body, stroking over the curve of her hip, then up again, running up under the hem of her T-shirt, playing over the flesh of her waist to find her breasts.
She expected him to pull the cup up and bare her flesh, but instead he let his fingertips dwell on the full curve through the fine lace. His thumb slid back and forth over the nipple, making her breath speed. He went on kissing her, slow and searching, lazy, thorough, tongue moving over and around hers in dancing velvet strokes.
Genevieve groaned in soft pleasure, reaching up a hand to explore the angles and hollows of his face, feeling the faint bristle of the five o’clock shadow against her fingertips.
Beneath her ass, the thick ridge of his erection began to grow, hardening and lengthening under her weight. He rumbled against her mouth, a sound less human than tiger. This time it didn’t alarm her as it had the last time they’d made love. He hadn’t lost control then, and she doubted he would now.
Even so, she could feel his magic swirling around her like currents in warm water, surrounding her with liquid pleasure. It added another layer of delicious sensation to those he created with mouth and hands and the pressure of that thick cock under her ass.
When he drew back again, they were both breathing hard. Kurt rested his forehead against her cheek. “When I saw you lying in the yard today, it scared the fuck out of me. I was terrified you’d been clawed open like Dad. All I could think was, ‘I just found her. The bastards can’t have taken her already.’”
She stroked a hand through the dark silk of his hair, so cool and soft under her fingers. “But they didn’t. Though they certainly gave it their best shot.”
“They’ll try again.”
“Maybe not. Maybe they’ll back off when the FBI breaks the spells. There won’t be any point in trying to kill us anymore.”
“Let’s not think about that right now.” His hand tightened on her breast, thumb stroking hard along her nipple. “Think about this.”
Genevieve gasped at the rough, erotic pressure. Her eyes drifted closed, as she sank into the sweet sensuality of making love to Kurt.
He growled softly, his free hand moving around her thigh to find the seam of her shorts. The tips of his fingers stroked up and down over the ridge of fabric in a tease of sensation, a promise of pleasure. Genevieve shivered in delight, conscious of the jut of his cock against her pussy. Unable to resist, she rolled her hips over his length, stimulating both of them ruthlessly.
“Minx,” he rumbled, gold eyes glowing. “You’re asking for trouble.”
Upstairs the shower cut off.
His fingers tightened between her thighs, rubbing back and forth, slipping between her vaginal lips, to press the seam of the shorts between them. She panted, head tipping back, eyes sliding closed. For a moment, she let herself swim in the lush pleasure before looking down at him again. Kurt stared up into her face, brushing his fingers back and forth as he stared up at her, his gaze hot with sensual demand.
Her breath came faster, and she shivered in need. He reached up with his free hand, combing his fingers through her disordered red curls. “I love your hair.”
“I love your eyes -- among other things.” She smiled, as the colors of his gaze snared her again. “I never realized how beautiful Feral eyes were before. So many colors, umber around your irises, autumn gold, lemon yellow. And when they start to glow, they’re like flame. Hypnotic. I know I’ll never be able to capture it, but I’d love to try.”
They kissed again, tongues dancing in mutual seduction. By the time he pulled back, her heart was pounding, her nipples even harder.
“The guest room door just closed,” he murmured. “I think the coast is clear.” His lips curled into a very male smile.
Gen smiled back. “Good. I’m feeling a little… dirty.”
He chuckled and gave her a swat on the ass. “Then let’s go clean you up.”
* * *
Kurt watched Genevieve strip, revealing that long, graceful body of hers. He loved that creamy redhead’s complexion, with its dusting of freckles across the shoulders. The sweet curves of her breasts hung full and round, tipped by blushing pink nipples drawn into hard points.
Her long fingers flicked open the snap of her shorts, slid them down over her hips. She didn’t shave between those long, pretty legs, though the hair was neatly trimmed, its color the same bright copper as her hair. Her legs curved with long runner’s muscle, like her lean arms.
Genevieve propped a fist on one hip and eyed him. “Are you going to get undressed, or just drool?” Her mouth curved in a wicked little smile.
“But drooling’s so much fun.”
With an exaggerated sigh, she stepped forward, caught the hem of his T-shirt, and pulled it off over his head. Now it was her turn to stare, blue eyes going wide, darkening to cobalt as she scanned the width of his chest. “You must spend a lot of time in the gym.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes I have to help pick up unconscious six-hundred-pound cats. And since I work with a lot of retired volunteers, I need to bring as much muscle as possible to the job.”
“Either way, I approve.” She reached out and brushed her fingertip over one nipple. Kurt had never considered his nipples particularly sensitive, but there was magic in Genevieve’s touch.
The swirl of sensation vibrating through him made his cock harden even more. His hands shook as he unzipped his jeans and skinned them down his hips. His erection sprang free, long and dark and hungry.
A mischievous female hand darted out and curled around it in a teasing silken brush of fingertips.
Lust weighted his balls with heat. Kurt reached in to turn on the spray, then adjusted its temperature. He had no interest in a cold shower.
Genevieve stepped up behind him to press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and rake her teeth over his skin. Her fingers danced over his shoulders in teasing strokes that made him groan in delight.
His cock jerked, dancing upward in lust. Kurt swept the shower curtain aside and made an “after-you” gesture.
Genevieve stepped inside, and he took the opportunity to brush his fingertips across the curve of her ass. She jumped a little and grinn
ed back at him.
He faked innocence he was far from feeling as he stepped under the warm spray with her. “What?”
“You are a bad, bad man.”
Kurt gave her an exaggerated leer. “You have no idea.”
“Actually, I’m getting a better idea all the time.” She stepped against him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him hungrily. Water pounded down on their shoulders in a liquid caress, thin streams snaking over their skin, droplets beading and rolling.
Kurt reached past her to pick up the bottle of shampoo. He squirted it into his palm, then started working it through her long hair, enjoying the slippery sensation of lather and thick silken curls.
Genevieve picked up a bar of soap and rolled it between her own palms before running it slowly over his chest in long, swirling caresses. His eyes drifted shut and he caught his breath. They stroked each other, using the shampoo and the soap and the slippery lather as another path to pleasure, another addition to the sensation. Magic added a deeper layer of pleasure, as their auras interacted.
In the depths of Kurt’s mind, Stoli rumbled softly, hungry and possessive. Wanting more of her, wanting to claim her as mate, just as Kurt did. It didn’t seem to matter how long he had known her -- or how long he hadn’t. All he cared about was the need for her, the need of her touch, her hands, her mouth.
Her. She sank to her knees in the tub and reached for him. Kurt froze, his breath catching, as she wrapped the long fingers of one hand around his cock, cupping his balls in the other. Her mouth swooped down over him, taking him on an incredible wet, silken slide into pleasure that damn near made his eyes cross. She couldn’t quite swallow his entire length, but it was still enough to make his head drop back into a helpless moan. “Gen… God, Genevieve…”
He started to tell her to stop, that he wouldn’t last if she kept that up, but then she pulled back and started swirling her tongue over the head of his cock. Stoli rumbled, deep and wild, the sound not human at all.
He found himself gripping a fistful of wet red hair and forced his hand to loosen. He didn’t want to hurt her.
Arcane Kiss (Talents Book 1) Page 16
