by Kat Simons
Clever. Less clean up. And a testament to Sheldon’s power.
He couldn’t blame Jaxer for being worried about the little shit. But given a choice, Deacon would have taken a more…active approach to dealing with the wizard.
Unfortunately, and he was reluctant to admit this even to himself, his approach probably would have gotten him killed. The bastard was powerful. How Sheldon managed to be so powerful at his age was a mystery. But maybe that was the reason Jaxer was so obsessed with finding out the whys behind Sheldon’s actions.
If Deacon got out of this apartment alive, he’d ask the faery. In the meantime, he and this very human woman had to navigate the bespelled living room and get away before Sheldon got back.
Deacon drew in a slow breath and was hit again by Cary’s scent. Vanilla and cinnamon. And something else. Something that shot jolts of lust and need through his gut, making him lean closer to her just so he could feel the heat of her skin. He felt a possessive growl rising in his throat and swallowed it back, fisting his hands by his side to keep from reaching for her.
What the hell? He had more control that this. A lot more. He had to or people got killed. Resisting a woman, even one that smelled like heaven, had never been a problem before. With Cary, it took an effort to keep from pulling her close and burying his face in her neck to soak up her essence.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was a witch casting a lust spell on him as some sort of sick joke. But she didn’t smell like a witch.
His nostrils flared. That scent of hers…
It reached down inside him, calling to a deep instinct. As he breathed Cary in, his leopard whispered, Mine.
Out in the living room, wind-lashed hail whipped toward the bedroom without actually coming through the doorway. And behind that, a lightning bolt sizzled the floor.
“Sheldon didn’t make this easy,” he said, quirking a brow when she jumped at the sound of his voice.
“Are you dressed?” she asked without turning around.
He couldn’t help smiling at the slight panic in her voice. “Yes.”
“Okay. Stick close. Stay behind me and don’t try to dodge around me. Got it? That’s how we’ll get out of here alive.”
He frowned down at the top of her head. She must have some pretty powerful shields to get through that mess. But she wasn’t a witch.
He grunted a noncommittal response, and she swung around to face him. The flash of heat in her eyes made his pulse kick.
“Listen, buddy,” she said, her chin tucked back as she glared at him, “if you don’t let me protect you, we’re both dead. Okay? Don’t go trying to be a hero. Just stay close and let me do what I came here to do.”
She mumbled something unflattering under her breath as she turned back to the living room, and he had to fight a completely irrational urge to kiss her.
Over the course of the long day, with no sign of help from Jaxer, he’d had to face the possibility of his own death. His reaction to Cary might be a result of that, a need to reaffirm he was alive.
But as he breathed in the heady scent of her again, he wondered…
2
Cary reached back and grabbed Deacon’s hand, trying to ignore the way her stomach clenched and her skin tingled. She eased through the bedroom door towing Deacon in her wake.
Focusing was difficult with her bare skin touching his, but damned if she knew why. She didn’t react this way to men just because they were gorgeous. Especially if they were gorgeous. The only men she’d met that were as stunning as this particular black cat were guaranteed trouble with a capital T—and that included her mentor. Everything about Deacon screamed Trouble. Shapeshifter. Unnaturally handsome. Annoyingly arrogant. Smelled too damned good. Grin that could stop traffic. Voice like sin.
And he’d lied about being dressed. A pair of jeans with the top button left undone and nothing else covering that amazing body was not dressed. It was sexy as hell. But it did not qualify as being dressed.
With a scowl, she forced her thoughts to her current situation. She could ponder her irritating reaction to Deacon later. Now, she had to get them through this maze.
She heard his surprised gasp as daggers and fireballs swerved to avoid them. Hail flicked past in cold blasts but only a few, non-lethal ice balls touched her, and all of them missed Deacon completely. Lightning struck close enough to make the hair on her arms stand up but always zigged away before hitting them.
She couldn’t explain exactly how her Protector magic worked because she didn’t know—neither her bosses nor Jaxer had seen fit to go into the details. She never even felt the “magic” powering up or flowing through her or whatever it did. She just knew that her bosses had invested her with it, and when she was standing between someone and danger, the magic happened.
After six years of jumping between bad guys and innocents, she could mostly ignored her fear that this time the magic wouldn’t happen, the soul-crushing terror that this time she’d screw it all up and her charge would get killed. The magic hadn’t failed her yet. So far, she’d managed to do exactly what she was supposed to do—protect people.
Still, she breathed a secret sigh of relief as the magical mayhem around her kept its distance.
But the closer they got to the front door, the more frantic the wizard’s spells got. By the time they were halfway through the living room, they were trudging through a whirlwind of power so strong it was sucking the oxygen out of the air. She worked at controlling her heartbeat. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to pit her magic against this much chaos. The Protector shield could take it. It had before.
She was going to need at least two shampoos to get the stench of scorched wood and burnt ozone out of her hair, though.
Jaxer owed her big time for this.
They were within a few feet of escape, Cary’s anxiety just starting to ease, when a cracking sound alerted her an instant before the front door flew off its hinges, tumbling into the room right at them.
Despite knowing it wouldn’t actual hit her, she still gasped and took a step back. It was really really hard to stare down a flying door without reacting.
Solid hands closed over her shoulders and strong arms cradled her against a rock hard chest. When she felt Deacon tense to move her out of the way, she planted her feet, holding her ground in front of him, and watched as the door defied the laws of physics by changing directions to move up and over their heads.
“How…?”
His voice whispered across the top of her hair and the heat of him seeped into her back. For a brief moment, Cary felt her eyes drifting shut from the sheer pleasure of having Deacon’s hands on her.
Then a tall, skinny, pimple-faced teenager stepped through the smoking remains of the doorway. His dark hair hung in greasy strands across his forehead and sweat trickled down his temples. He wore a black silk shirt and black leather pants that only emphasized how painfully thin he was. He breathed hard as he faced them, but his watery brown eyes glowed with feral delight.
Sighing, she pulled reluctantly away from Deacon to confront the teenager. “Let me guess. You’re Sheldon the wizard?”
“I am. And I will not allow you to leave with my leopard.”
The boy’s voice broke in the middle of his sentence and Cary’s chest tightened. God, what else could go wrong tonight? What was she supposed to do with this kid? Jaxer, the bastard, hadn’t warned her the wizard was this young. She could no more hurt a child than she could a helpless kitty.
At least the apartment had stopped firing hail and lightning at them. The spells must have deactivated when Sheldon came through the door. One less thing to worry about. And since the entire four-floor, twenty-unit apartment building was empty (she would have moved out if Sheldon was her neighbor, too), she didn’t have to worry about protecting innocent bystanders. But the rest of this situation was a disaster.
How the hell did she get this skinny, awkward kid out of her way without anyone getting hurt?
�
��I’m pretty sure the leopard belongs to himself,” she said as she tried to work out a plan. Plans weren’t her strong suit. Jaxer usually handled those. She just got between good guys and bad guys and kept the good guys from getting killed. She was a walking, talking Kevlar vest, and Kevlar vests didn’t do strategy.
“Not after tonight,” Sheldon snarled in response to her distracted quip.
The hair on Cary’s arms rose. Something truly evil flickered in the boy’s leer. Shit. That wasn’t good. She decided not to take his adolescent skin problems as a sign Sheldon would be easy to handle. He was obviously powerful enough to capture a leopard shifter and hold him. No telling what else the kid could do.
She just wished he wasn’t so damned young. “I don’t suppose you’ll just get out of the way so we can leave?”
He lifted his lip in a painfully sad-looking snarl. “I’d like to know how you broke through the binding ring.”
“Trade secret.” She shrugged and stepped closer to him.
Maybe he’d be forced back by her magic if she and Deacon just walked out. This was the first time she’d been caught in an apartment with a demented teenager between her and escape. She’d rarely tried to bully her way past a bad guy before. They usually got fed up and went away when they couldn’t get through her to their intended victim.
Sheldon didn’t look like he’d give up easily, though. If she had to, she could stand here protecting Deacon all night. She just hoped it didn’t come to that.
She took another step toward the wizard. To her surprise and horror, Deacon jerked her backward and moved in front of her. She shoved at his shoulder, but it was like pushing a brick wall.
“Damn it, Deacon, get behind me.”
“You don’t know what this little shit is capable of.”
“It doesn’t matter what he’s—” She broke off as the little shit raised a hand to cast a spell. Desperate, she stepped away from Deacon and flung herself around him before he could stop her.
“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.
“Just stay behind me, all right.”
Sheldon studied them, his hand raised, his eyes narrowed. Why didn’t he cast his spell? She was pretty sure he wasn’t as concerned with her wellbeing as she was with his. So what held him back?
A low growl rose from behind her, reminding her Deacon wasn’t going to passively listen to her orders. Damned arrogant leopard.
“I will not let an innocent woman stand between me and danger,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Chauvinist. And I’m not all that innocent.”
“We’ll discuss that later.”
The deep, husky promise in his voice made her toes curl, and she jumped when his hands dropped onto her shoulders again. But she was prepared for his tricky tactics this time. When he tried to move her, she held her ground.
“Listen,” she hissed over her shoulder, “I’m the Protector here, okay? I’m the one doing…the…” She trailed off, biting her lip as Sheldon’s eyes widened.
“I knew it! You’re a Protector?” He bounced on his toes, grinning like a maniac.
“Damn,” she muttered. This was so not good. So so not good. No wonder he’d been staring at them and not casting spells. He must have suspected what she was.
“A what?” Deacon asked.
“A Protector,” Sheldon said with a triumphant little crow.
Their voices barely broke through her growing panic. Sheldon the wizard knew she was a Protector. She never told people exactly what she was for a reason. If Sheldon knew about Protectors, he might know how to get around her magic. It was tricky but not impossible. Which meant he’d know how to kill her.
Shit shit shit shit.
“This is perfect,” Sheldon said. “Once I’ve taken the leopard’s body and killed off this one—” he snarled down at his skinny form, “—then you, Protector, will keep me safe. With you as my personal bodyguard, nothing can harm me.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what Sheldon had intended to do to Deacon. A body swap. Switching the essences of two people so that each inhabited the other’s body. And killing off one of the bodies, along with the spirit trapped in it, would make the change permanent. He wanted to steal Deacon’s body and keep it for himself. And he didn’t care that doing that would require murdering Deacon.
Sheldon the wizard was starting to look less like a teenager and more like the evil bastard Jaxer said he was.
Then the rest of his little speech sunk in through her shock. He wasn’t considering killing her. He only wanted her to protect him. Maybe he didn’t know… Which meant she could still keep Deacon and herself alive.
“That’s right,” she stuttered to herself, relief making her a little giddy. “That’s what I do. I protect.”
“So you’d protect me if I looked like him?” Sheldon hissed.
“What?” She blinked, refocusing on the situation. “No. I wouldn’t protect you willingly no matter what you looked like.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you were going to kill a cat,” she said simply.
Granted, it was that very philosophy that had gotten her into this Protector business in the first place, but that didn’t change her basic worldview. If you could harm an animal, you didn’t deserve her protection.
“He won’t be a cat for long,” Sheldon spat. “I’ll be the cat when I’m finished taking his body. Then you’ll have to protect me.”
Deacon once again tried to move her out of the way. She stomped her foot and resisted. “Stop that,” she snarled.
“No. Get behind me. He’s insane.”
“Really? I never noticed. You heard him. Protectors are good at protecting, so let me.”
“I will not allow my mate to be hurt.”
“I thought we… Your what?” she screeched. Her mouth dropped open as she glanced back at him. He could not be serious.
He used her shock to shove her aside, pushing her into the soft couch behind him. Then he spun.
And the leopard faced the wizard.
Sheldon screamed in triumph. The leopard growled, lowering its lean body into a crouch. Cary watched it all happening in slow-motion horror.
No!
She launched off the couch, hurling herself forward as Sheldon raised his hand to strike. Without thought, she leapt onto the leopard’s back, high up near its head, just as the wizard’s spell shot out from his fingertips. The energy bolt caught her in the side, flinging her back over the top of the leopard. She hit the ground hard on her shoulder and rolled, grunting when the base of the couch stopped her.
Ouch. Her vision blurred and a sharp stab of nausea clogged her throat. She felt the vibration of the residual power crawl over her skin before the pain took her full attention. She sucked in a breath and held it, choking back the rising bile.
The leopard’s roar echoed in the small apartment. Cary’s vision cleared enough for her to see Sheldon crumble to the ground just as the leopard jumped. She tried to shout at Deacon to stop, but her injury stole her voice.
The big black cat swatted at the wizard’s inert form. And then Deacon stood in the open doorway, naked again and glaring. Cary groaned and closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to notice how good Deacon looked naked.
A moment later, she felt strong arms gathering her up against a warm chest. She hissed as more pain lanced her side.
“Where are you hurt?” he breathed against her hair.
“Ribs. Probably cracked a few. I hate that.”
He cradled her closer, and Cary thought, This feels nice. Right. But that was too odd, too intimate a reaction to have with a stranger. What the hell was wrong with her?
She was too sore to move, so she stayed in his arms. She’d deal with this completely out of character response to Deacon after she got to a hospital. Or maybe a few days after that. Or maybe never. Especially if she never saw the man again. That would be easier.
“Why aren’t you dead, you crazy woman?” he said again
st her temple.
“Crazy? That’s rude after I just saved your life.” She adjusted her position, trying to get more comfortable. “I’m not dead because I’m a Protector. That’s how it works. So long as I’m protecting someone, all that magic stuff can’t kill me. Which is why his spell ricocheted off me and rebounded on him.” She took a few shallow breaths because deep breathing hurt. “It wasn’t supposed to be a killing blow anyway. He was trying to incapacitate a leopard shifter, not kill one.”
“But the spell would have killed a human woman.”
“And it was strong enough, when it doubled back, to kill a human wizard.”
“He was already dead when he collapsed,” Deacon murmured in understanding.
“That’s usually what happens.” Damned stupid—possibly evil—kid. She really wished he hadn’t been so young.
“Why are your ribs cracked?” Deacon asked.
“I still get hurt sometimes.” She didn’t laugh at the understatement only because laughing would feel awful right now. “It’s like being shot while wearing a Kevlar vest—you still get bruised and sore. Except I’m more like the vest than the body inside the vest. And the vests do get damaged.” Or so Jaxer had told her. The getting hurt part was one of the many things about her job she didn’t like.
She was rambling, though, and rambling about things she wasn’t supposed to be talking about, so she closed her mouth. Something was very wrong with her tonight. She decided to blame Jaxer. For all of it. Just because. It probably was his fault anyway.
“We’d better get you to a hospital,” Deacon murmured.
He started to lift her, but a shot of pain through her side made her groan. “Wait.” Sweat beaded on her brow. “Just give me a minute.” She really hated when her ribs got broken.
He went back to cradling her.
“You’re gonna want some clothes on before we go anywhere,” she said, amazed how aware she was of his body despite her injuries. Typically pain robbed her of an awareness of naked flesh. But not Deacon’s. Oh no. Deacon’s naked body still managed to make her tingle in very private places even though the tingles were being outshone by her aching side. The fact that she was tingling at all was just weird.
