by Ivy Asher
Pebble’s gaze flits over the members of his coven that are in his line of sight, and his eyes narrow.
“Yeah, you should probably look into why they’re not telling you what’s up,” I advise.
I reach back for Sabin’s hand so I can somewhat communicate where I’m going to move, so that he can go with me. We need to do some field training as a group, I realize. Yeah, we can talk to each other in our heads, but until we master mental talk in the middle of a fight in a way that doesn’t distract or get anyone hurt, we need to work out a communication system outside of that.
I clear my throat and raise my voice so all of the surrounding paladin can hear me. “I’m going to step past Pebble and talk to my friend’s family. I am not a threat to them or to you. But if any of you try to stop this innocent interaction from happening, I’ll make you sorry that you did. We clear?”
A couple of incredulous snorts sound off around me. But Pebble steps aside to let me by. As I pass him, I lean down and mumble.
“I don’t know if you’re okay, or what’s up with your coven, but if you need a place to stay, my house is a safe place. Sabin will give you the address.”
Sabin quickly lists off the numbers and road info, and Pebble gives an almost imperceptible nod of his head. I move toward the Stewards and none of the paladin attempt to stop me. I would guess they’re not allowed to engage with me unless I start something, I doubt my little threat had any real effect. They think they’re big, badass paladin assigned to babysit some too-full of herself little girl. They’re not going to take me seriously until they’re recovering from a lesson in I say what I mean and mean what I say.
I put my hand out to Mrs. Steward, but when I get closer to her, she forgoes my offered handshake and pulls me down into a fierce hug. I wrap my arms around her to keep from tumbling over from our height differences. I rub her back, and she proceeds to whisper thank you to me over and over again.
She pulls back after a couple of minutes and wipes at the wet tracks on her cheek. Sabin pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to Mrs. Steward. The sight of it suddenly stirs a memory in me, when a kind stranger offered me a handkerchief when I was younger. I don’t know why this memory has stuck with me, but I remember thinking people who carry handkerchiefs are good people.
I catch Sabin’s eyes with mine and give him a huge smile. I can tell he’s trying to figure out why I’m looking at him like this, but his eyes fill with affection and he grins sweetly back at me.
“How’s Parker? I’ve been meaning to check in on him, but things have been a little crazy.”
To prove my point, I motion back towards where the paladin just were and find that they’re gone. It’s all I can do not to scan my surroundings and pick them out from wherever they’re hiding and watching right now.
“He’s doing very well, thanks to you. He’s not going to continue with the paladin program, I think the experience with the lamia showed him that it’s not what he wants to do,” she tells me, and I nod with understanding.
“Sorry I’m so flustered, I didn’t even introduce you to my mates. I just saw your markings, and I knew it had to be you, and I just had to say thank you. Truly thank you doesn’t even begin to cover how grateful we are and how much we owe you for saving him.”
She grabs my hand in both of hers and looks at me with such a beautiful motherly ferocity that I feel my eyes start to sting a little.
“I owe him, really,” I admit. “He carried my friend out, and it gave me a chance to say goodbye.” I pause so I can get control over my emotions, and Mrs. Steward pulls me down into another hug. “I’m sorry Parker was even in that situation in the first place,” I tell her, and she shushes me and squeeze me tighter.
“Well Vinna, you are a member of our family now, and if you ever need anything you come to us, okay? I don’t care what it is; you can count on us. Now give me your phone, and I will put our numbers in there.” she tells me, as we break away from our hug.
We exchange phones and numbers, and when it’s all done, she gives me an approving nod and smooths down her dark hair.
“Thank you for talking to us, we won’t steal up the rest of your day, but we mean it. You need anything, you call, okay?”
She gives me a stern mom face, and I parrot okay back to her.
“Tell Parker I say hello, and if he needs to talk or anything else, he can call me anytime.”
We say our goodbyes, and they continue on with whatever they were doing before they spotted Sabin and I coming out of the spell shop. I pick up the box of spells at my feet and scan everything around us, spotting three out of the five members of Pebble’s coven. I look over to Sabin, and he’s doing the same thing.
“You’re a good guy, Sabin Gamull,” I tell him, a huge smile taking over my face.
He looks at me confused for a moment before leaning down and giving me a sweet kiss.
“You look like the kind of guy mothers should hide their daughters from, but inside you’re a handkerchief toting, Pride & Prejudice loving, stargazing, romantic, who has my back...literally. I am one lucky girl.”
Sabin pulls open the back of the car and takes the box of spells from my hand to set them inside. I let out a surprised squeal when he suddenly grabs me out of nowhere, pivots me so he’s supporting my weight, and dips me back until I’m a foot off the pavement. He kisses me deeply and thoroughly as he dips me, like we’re part of some grand dance finale from the 1950s.
When he’s kissed me nice and properly mindless, he swoops me back up, steadies me and boops my nose. “You’re just now realizing how lucky you are?” he asks, a cheeky tone in his playful voice. “You’ve got to get quicker on the uptake. Now let’s get back and figure out what to do about the elders and your set of stalker paladin.”
He twirls his keys around his finger as he swaggers to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I watch his ass as he moves, and when he turns around I run my gaze lasciviously and with no shame up his body.
Fuck, lucky girl is a serious understatement!
34
“Shit!” Knox exclaims, as he calls a short sword into his hand and the blade appears in his palm instead of the grip.
He jerks his hand back, and the sword tumbles toward the ground, disappearing before it can make contact with the dirt. He eyes the cut on his hand, staring at it like it’s a traitor that’s betrayed him in the deepest of ways, before reaching his palm out to me. I take it trying to fight my smile and push Healing magic into him. I watch as my magic cooperates and the skin knits together. I feel bad that he’s having trouble figuring out the magic weapons, but it’s been good for practice for me with my Healing magic.
“Why does that keep happening?” Knox asks, a hint of a whine in his tone.
“It’s the sequence you’re calling. If you push too much magic, too fast, into the runes you want to activate, then the sequence gets fucked up. That’s why you keep getting blade first, or the whole weapon sideways. You have to slow the flow down, feed it into each rune until you get the combination you want. Don’t flood the sequence.”
Knox lets out a frustrated huff and twists his arm to stare at the runes there. The muscles in his arm tighten with the movement, and it sends a flutter of desire through me. Seeing his gorgeous body with my marks all over it sparks something in me in a primal, neanderthal-ish way. By the stars, I want to get him naked. I clench my thighs against that thought. Not the time or place, Vinna. I pull myself away from my sex-filled plans for later and refocus.
Knox is staring at the runes on his arm, and I’d swear he’s giving them a lecture. I chuckle because I talk to my magic too. He looks up at me, chagrin leaking into his features at getting caught.
“How the fuck do you make it look so easy?” he asks.
I snicker and hold up my index finger. “One, because I’m a badass, and two, I’ve got six years of practice on you. The thing is, I didn’t have anyone around with healing magic to fix all my booboos, so Sentinel up, and
let’s fucking do this!”
I swat his chest with the back of my hand and raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. Bastien’s laugh bounces towards us from the chair he’s perched in on the back patio, and Knox aims a glare at him.
“Laugh it up, chuckles, we’ll see how many cuts you end up with when you get your runes,” Knox threatens.
“I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to figure out which end of the sword not to grab,” Bastien retorts.
“Them’s fighting words, Fierro! Should we bet on it?”
Bastien’s grin widens. “Yes, Howell, I think a friendly wager is in order; name your stakes.”
“Shit’s getting real if they’re using last names,” Valen announces, as he strides through the sliding glass door and plops into a seat next to his twin. “What’d I miss?”
“Knox likes the sharp and pointy side of his weapons, Bastien’s ego is on a level that should concern us all, and Vinna is a badass.”
I grin at Ryker as he sums up what’s happening for Valen, but he seems singularly focused on the task I just assigned him. Bright yellow-orange magic crackles across his skin as he tries to activate the runes on his back that create the staff. He’s done really well with calling his short swords and daggers so far, and has graduated to what I find are the harder of the sequences, the long sword and the staff.
“You’re leaking,” I tell him.
Ryker furrows his brow in concentration, and the crackle of magic sparks out, but no staff appears in his hand. I walk over to him.
“These weapons were harder for me; it helped sometimes if I physically touched the first couple of runes, like it helped my instincts or brain realize which set of runes I was needing. You can try that if you want, but be careful; it’s become a habit for me now to call these runes that way, and that might not be a good thing. You still want to make sure you can call them without touch. So focus on how each rune feels as you call it, memorize that feeling and it will be easier to call that particular rune or put it in a sequence when you need it.”
He nods and refocuses on the task and Knox’s adamant bellow of hell no steals my attention back to him.
“I’m not giving up any time with Vinna, and we haven’t even sorted if we’re even doing a schedule,” Knox argues with Bastien. “I still think you should have to shave your head when I win.”
I picture Bastien with a buzzed head. He’s gorgeous, and I’m sure he could pull it off. But the thought of no more long waves to run my fingers through, or the loss of my fantasy about his dark silky strands caressing my skin as he kisses his way up from between my thighs to claim my mouth, is not a world I want to live in.
“That’s not fucking happening,” I chime in, trying to rein in the desire and panic ringing out in my voice.
They turn to me. “I like his hair just the way that it is, he’s not cutting it!”
Bastien and Valen exchange grins.
“I mean, cut it if you really want to, who am I to stop you, but if it’s all the same to you, I like it long,” I offer more casually, hoping it covers up the desperate way I just announced that I don’t want them to have bodily autonomy when it comes to their hair.
“Just have the loser concede to the winner’s greatness every time they call a weapon or something,” Sabin announces, setting the tablet the readers gave me on the outdoor coffee table he has a foot resting against. “You’re right Vinna; nothing in here about the transference or even how Chosen are really selected. There’s some small mention of Chosen bonds, but it’s in relation to injury or death. The rest is genealogy, information on investments, and a lot of stuff about possible origins for Sentinels, casters, and some other supernaturals.”
“Right! I don’t know why I was expecting more of a how-to, but most of what’s in there seems irrelevant. Yay, Sentinels used to have holdings in Kazakhstan and Russia, but how does that help me figure out anything about what I am and what I can do?”
Sabin nods as he stares at the tablet, as if just the weight of his demanding gaze can will more information to magically appear in the text that the readers left.
“I’m going to track down the number they left you. See if they have any information they can send that might be more useful.”
“Follow your gut, but if they had anything, you’d think they would have included it in there,” I tell him, gesturing to the tablet. “They knew I had no idea what I was, maybe this is just all that they have.”
“That’s a good point. It didn’t exactly sound like they were in the Sentinel loop anymore,” Sabin adds, thoughtful.
Bastien picks up the tablet and starts to scroll through it.
“What do you mean concedes to the winner’s greatness?” Knox asks Sabin, bringing us back to the undecided terms of the bet.
Sabin shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, maybe whoever loses has to shout out Here ye, here ye, the great and formidable winner has called on his weapon, let us bathe in his glory and cower in fear. Or some other equally asinine thing.”
I laugh at Sabin’s suggestion and how ridiculous it is, but when I turn to Knox the smile on his face tells me he likes it. I look at Bastien, and he’s wearing a similar grin.
“Fuck yes!” Ryker shouts, and all eyes snap to him.
His smile is electric, and the pride in his eyes shines like the sun as he holds up the staff in his hand. We all whoop our support and encouragement, and Ryker in his excitement gives the staff a twirl. It makes half a revolution before smacking his forearm and slipping from his hand. Ryker tries to catch it before it falls too far away and disappears, but that only gets him hit in the face somehow, before the staff evaporates into nothing and his runes reabsorb the magic. A small laugh escapes me before I slam my palm over my mouth. Maybe I was lucky there wasn’t anyone around to see me try and figure these runes out.
“You are not allowed to laugh,” Ryker scolds me, as he rubs at the red spot in his cheek where the staff just bitch-slapped him.
Of course, that only makes me laugh even harder. He steps toward me, and his gaze is playful and filled with naughty promises. A flash of the same look on Ryker’s face as he slid deep inside of me makes me wet, but another flash of his pain-filled features and clenched muscles as he laid on the shower floor, punches my lust in the face and replaces it with panic. I call on my staff as Ryker stalks forward and twirl it in the same way that Ryker just attempted.
“Show off,” he lobs at me, coming to a stop when I point the end of the staff at his throat.
I bite down on the smile teasing my lips.
“Whatever you have in mind for punishment, table it. We have to train. That means no distractions. You guys have to know how to use your new magic. You’re Sentinels now, which means you’re targets. If you can’t defend yourself when the time comes, we’re all screwed. The day you can get this staff out of my hands is the day we can relax a little, but until then, we’re going to go hard every day.”
Knox snickers, but it stops when I give him a stern look.
“And there will be no going hard with me until you two can do everything that I can...as well as I can,” I tell him.
That should buy me some time to sort through whatever sex-related PTSD I seem to be suffering from after watching Ryker and Knox get their runes. Sabin already wants to take it slow, and I’ll just figure out something out for Bastien and Valen. My eyes land on the twins of their own accord and they’re both watching me in a way that makes me think they can read my thoughts like they’re written in the air around my head. I look away before I get too sucked into their over-observant hazel orbs.
Knox’s cheeky smile drops. “Whoa, that’s not cool, Killer. I’ve been working at this all day. Who knows how long it could take to get to the level you’re at; like you said, you’ve got six years on us.”
“Then work harder, or come at me bro, maybe you’re like me, and you perform better under pressure?”
“I’m not going to fight you. You’d kick my ass, and even if I could do ev
erything that you can, I would always pull my hits. And you can just forget about me coming at you with weapons, that’s never going to happen,” Knox announces.
I glare at him.
“Fighting me is the only way you’re going to learn. I’m the only teacher you’re ever going to have, so you’re just going to have to get over yourself.”
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. I’ll fight Ryker until the others get their runes. Then we’ll fight and train with each other. You can coach and correct us, but none of us are fighting you.”
Knox crosses his arms in front of his chest, in a this is final pose. I look around at the other guys, and they are all wearing similar there’s nothing more to discuss looks on their faces.
“You all agree with him?” I ask, surprised.
They don’t answer, but they don’t need to, I can see it written all over their faces and body language.
“Fine, get yourselves killed or taken by some psychotic, power-hungry lamia, all because you don’t want to fight a girl. That makes a ton of sense.” I throw my hands up and turn to stomp towards the house.
“Don’t run off because you’re mad. I thought we were training?” Knox challenges.
I whirl on him. “How can I fucking train you if you’ve already decided what you will and won’t listen to, or do?”
“I can’t hurt you. I wouldn’t be able to do that. It would make training like that ineffectual!” Knox declares.
“Oh, but I can hurt you, and that’s fine because it’s making you stronger. What’s the word you used? Oh, that’s right, I’m tempering you.”
“That’s different, Vinna. You’re not actually searing the runes into us. Hitting you or actually trying to stab you with a knife is on a completely different level!”
“How can you look at my runes as a good thing, but not see training with me the same way? If you get a hit in, then I’ll learn to keep that from happening again. It’s not like we don’t have a healer. Nothing is permanent; it’s just pain, and temporary pain at that!”
