Seeking Magic

by Eden Briar

  “Girlfriend?” Jazz asks, not missing a beat. “She’d be the ultimate cougar.”

  Zac chokes on a mouthful of pasta.

  I push a glass of water toward him and pin Jazz with a glare. “Jealous?”

  “Impressed.” He sits back in his chair with a smirk.

  Ben doesn’t join in our banter. He looks lost in thought. Maybe this act of Jazz’s is more about trying to take Ben out of his head right now. Two can play at that game.

  “So, sleeping beauty, does this mean your clary curse has come to an end?”

  Ben blanches, pushes back his chair, and walks to the sink. I stare after him.

  “We tested that theory earlier,” Jazz says softly. “With someone he had accidental contact with before. No change.”

  With a sigh, I push back my chair and follow Ben, standing next to him at the counter but being careful not to touch.

  “Hey.”

  Behind me, Zac and Jazz are talking. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

  “Hey.”

  Ben glances at me as I lay my hand on the countertop in invitation. He hesitates.

  “You’ve done a lot more than hold my hand since you woke up,” I tease.

  His hand settles on the counter next to me, then slides slowly closer until it just tips against mine. I feel a rush of heat up my arm and down my body. Beside me, Ben lets out an audible sigh of relief, covers my hand with his, and laces his fingers with mine.

  “You were worried, huh?”

  “Yeah.” He squeezes my hand again, as if unable to trust what he feels. “I thought things had changed with me. But it’s you. You’re the one who’s different.”

  “You healed me. Can you really stand there and tell me nothing’s changed?”

  “The common denominator is still you.”

  Before we can argue further, Archer strolls in the door.

  “Good, you’re all here. We need to have an important talk. All of us. First thing tomorrow, in the library.” He glances at the clock on the wall and frowns.

  “It’s late. You should all get some sleep. Zac, we’ll make up a bed for you in the games room. It’s not the most comfortable, but it’s better than the basement.”

  “Being a vampire, you might prefer the basement,” Jazz quips.

  Zac doesn’t miss a beat. “Do you have any spare coffins? They’re quite comfy if they’re well-padded.”

  “Glad to see you’re all getting along,” Archer says dryly.

  His eyes fall on me and Ben and our joined hands. He smiles.

  “So, are we in danger? Will Balor be knocking down our door any moment?” Jazz sounds nonchalant, but I can see from the set of his shoulders that he’s still on edge.

  “Right now, Balor is not an immediate threat to us. But we do have important things to discuss.”

  Jazz leans forward, ready to ask more, but Archer shakes his head. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Get some rest.”

  29

  Jazz and Ben head to bed, leaving me alone with Zac.

  “I guess I’d better go find this games room. Get my head down for the night.”

  Zac’s in no hurry to move. I know how he feels. It’s been a long day but I’m not ready for it to be over yet.

  “I hear the games room couch is not the nicest place to sleep.”

  “Hey, I’ll take an uncomfortable couch over a locked cell any night.”

  I wince at the reminder. “I’m sorry about that. If I’d known you were here, I’d have come looking for you right away. They shouldn’t have locked you up like that.”

  He waves that off. “They were doing what they thought was best to keep you safe. I can’t hold that against them.”

  I’m not finding it so easy to forgive and forget. But maybe if I’d been in Archer’s position, and a vampire’s proxy had just tried to kill one of my people, I would have taken precautions against the half-vampire who rocked up to my door in the middle of it all.

  “Do you want to come see my room?” I try to sound casual. “I can promise you the bed is a lot more comfortable than the games room couch.”

  “I’m sure plenty of people wouldn’t be too happy with me bunking in with you.”

  Despite his words, Zac’s eyes brighten at my invitation.

  “I’m twenty-one, not twelve. I don’t need permission to have a sleepover.”

  “Jazz seems like the possessive type.” He tries to seem nonchalant but I’m not buying it.

  “Lynea told me all half-bloods know the score where the female of the species is concerned. Leave your jealousy at the door or stay out of the bedroom. Besides, he didn’t bat an eyelid when I told him we’d kissed.”

  I guess, when your options are a life alone or a love shared, you might come to terms with it pretty quickly.

  “Then lead the way.” He gestures toward the door with a grin.

  As we walk, my heart starts thumping a fast rhythm. Maybe all the night will bring is us sleeping side by side, or maybe I’ll finally get to scratch that itch beneath my skin.

  By the time we reach the top of the stairs, I’m almost holding my breath. We step inside my room and are greeted by the sight of my clothes strewn across the bed.

  “Not a neat freak,” Zac comments from behind me. “I respect that.”

  Hurrying to the bed, I gather everything into my arms and cross the room to the laundry basket. Behind me, the door clicks shut.

  “When you live in an underground vampire lair, you learn to appreciate privacy when you can get it,” Zac says to my unasked question.

  Dumping the clothes into the basket, I hesitate about what to do or say next. I’m tired—tired of surprises, of constantly having to defend against who I am and what people see when they look at me. For once, I just want someone to see me.

  I unbutton my jeans and shove them down my legs, kicking them off. My t-shirt is next, shrugged off over my shoulders. I reach for my bra, but Zac’s voice stops me.

  “Blue?”

  Slowly, I pivot around until we’re face to face. Zac leans back against the door and looks me up and down. His eyes darken as he takes in my body. Then he focuses on my face, and our gazes meet. The deep green of his eyes reminds me of us lying side by side on the grass. His gaze drops to my lips for a moment then back to my eyes.

  “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  I glance away, unable to reconcile his words with how I feel.

  “Blue?” he coaxes. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

  “That’s just it. I’ve never felt beautiful. No one’s ever called me pretty, even.” He can’t just go throwing words around like that.

  “The sun isn’t the only thing druids worship.” Zac pushes away from the door and closes the distance between us.

  “Oh?” I remind myself that I want this, shoving back the self-conscious doubts that dog me.

  “They celebrate the beauty of the human form and revere in acts of passion and love.”

  He stops within arm’s reach. “You are beautiful, Indy. I want to worship you.”

  My eyes scan his face. There’s no trace of insincerity in his expression—he means every word he says. I hold out a hand and he comes to me. His warm fingers cup my elbow lightly, the intimacy of such a simple touch surprising me.

  “I wanted to come find you.” My voice is barely louder than a whisper as Zac’s fingers trail up my arm. “Archer was sending me away, for safekeeping, but all I could think of was how I wanted to be with you.”

  And Jazz and Ben, but I leave that unspoken. Zac knows.

  He pushes closer, his arm going around my shoulders. We walk across the room toward the mirror I’ve covered with a sheet. One tug of his hand and the sheet slips to the floor.

  I take a step back. “What are you doing?”

  “Easy, Blue. I want you to see what I see when I look at you.”

  The tension eases, and Zac’s arm slips from my shoulders, his hand coming to rest in the small of my back, against my bare ski
n. With a gentle push, he nudges me forward.

  “I know you see my eyes…”

  He shushes me.

  “That’s not what this is about. We’re talking feelings and actions, not physical descriptions. You’re a druid who can change your appearance on a whim. The color of your eyes, the curl of your hair, the shape of your face... it doesn’t make you, you.”

  But if it doesn’t, then what does? Who am I? The Seeker, like everyone assumes?

  His hand leaves my back as he steps behind me, leaning close to whisper in my ear. “Seeker is just another word, just another label.”

  It’s like he read my mind, and maybe he did. I focus on how much I want to feel his lips on me right now and swallow a moan when he presses a kiss to my neck.

  Turning my head, I seek his eyes. His hand cradles my face, his lips meet mine, and I reach a hand up to run my fingers through his hair. The kiss is brief, almost chaste, leaving me wanting so much more.

  When his eyes meet mine through the mirror, and his hands touch the clasp of my bra, I nod. Seconds later, he’s sliding the straps down my arms and letting it fall to the floor. His fingers trace along my collarbone, and I shudder with need. I’ve wanted this from the first moment I set eyes on him. But I’ve needed it for far longer.

  At long last, his fingers glide downward, and I almost sigh with relief. He skims the tops and the edges of my breasts before dipping under. His hands sweep up, across my nipples, sending a spark of heat between my legs.

  “Zac, I—” Whatever else I want to say is lost in a long, low moan as he rolls my nipples between his fingers. That spark of heat becomes a bolt of lightning. My hips thrust forward, seeking friction where there’s none to be had.

  I press my hands over his, not wanting him to stop but needing the contact. He stills.

  “Please.” I’m not ashamed to beg. The need is so great, it consumes me.

  “You are beautiful,” he murmurs, “Every sound you make, every hitch of your breath, the way everything is new to you.”

  Everything is new.

  The thought echoes loudly in my head, and this time I know Zac has picked up on it.

  “Then let me show you.” His rough voice contrasts his gentle fingers teasing my breasts. His words send heat pooling low in my belly.

  “Please.”

  His hands move to my shoulders, turning me so we’re eye to eye. He cups my face with both hands. His thumbs stroke along my cheekbones as he tips my head up and kisses me. It’s different than the last, hungrier, and I part my lips to let him inside. His hand slips behind my head as his tongue meets mine. I lose myself in him, in the heat of his mouth, in the taste of him. We pull apart after what feels like forever and no time at all, reluctant but breathless.

  His eyes are drawn down along my body and his hands follow. His fingers skim my neck and along my shoulders, his gaze on my breasts again. I close my eyes, anticipating his touch, only to gasp when I feel the heat of his breath against my skin. As I blink open my eyes, he parts his lips and runs his tongue across my nipple. It’s too much and not enough. I grab his shoulders for balance. Do I pull him closer or push him away? His mouth closes over the peak and sucks. Every thought falls away. All I can do is feel.

  “Yes, Zac. Please, I—”

  He lets go, running his thumb soothingly over the swollen nipple even as his attention moves to my other breast. Within seconds, I’m a mess of pleas and moans.

  Zac chuckles when he finally pulls away, lifting his head to meet my eyes.

  “You like that, huh?”

  Still catching my breath, I can only nod.

  In one smooth motion, he sinks to his knees, his fingers tangling in the hem of my panties. He glances up again, a question in his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  At my breathless assent, he tugs the material down my legs, baring all of me to him.

  “Think you’ll like it as much when I kiss you down here?” His words are teasing as his hands on my thighs urge my legs apart.

  That’s all the warning I get before his mouth is on my clit. Those little sparks of pleasure become a wave.

  I tangle my fingers in Zac’s hair.

  “Don’t stop, Zac. Please, please...”

  I’m close, so close, to the release my body craves. His lips and tongue deftly work at my clit, over and over, until I’m up on my tiptoes, pushed right against him, and so, so—

  My orgasm crashes over me, a wave of intense pleasure ebbing outward. It spreads right down to the tip of my toes, my whole body shuddering from the power of it. My knees are suddenly weak, but Zac has his arms wrapped around me before I can even blink.

  He kisses me, and I taste myself on his lips, murmuring my appreciation as I press against him. My thoughts turn to him and his pleasure as I feel him pressed against my thigh. I try to step back and go to my knees, but I wobble on unsteady legs.

  “I think you broke me.”

  His soft chuckle is followed by his arms wrapping tightly around me once more. He lifts me easily and carries me toward the bed.

  “Not broken, just temporarily out of action.”

  “But I should—”

  He sets me on the bed and presses a finger to my lips. “Tonight, I wanted to worship you, show you what I see in you. There’ll be plenty of time for mutual adoration.”

  There’s no arguing with him as he pulls back the covers and climbs in with me. I lie on my side facing him, letting my hand rest against his hip.

  “Who are you?” he murmurs.

  There are so many ways to answer that question, but when it comes to him and me, there’s only one answer that matters.

  “I’m the girl who took your hand and ran away with you.”

  His nose nuzzles my cheek as my eyes drift closed. His soft vow follows me into my dreams.

  “If we have to run, we run together.”

  30

  Lynea knocks on my door as I’m getting dressed the next day.

  “You’re looking bright this morning. And so is Zac. I met him on the stairs.”

  I flush at her knowing smile.

  “Which brings me to the reason for my visit. I felt you might have need of this.”

  She hands me four glass vials filled with an orange liquid.

  “This isn’t alcohol, is it?”

  She laughs. “No, this is what every half-blood woman keeps in her medicine cabinet: birth control. One vial lasts three months. No pregnancies, no STDs. Modern magic at its finest.”

  This is so much better than alcohol.

  “You’re the best, Lynea.”

  Her face lights up as she grins at me. “Being a female half-blood is tricky enough. Those little vials can be a lifesaver. Don’t forget: every three months.”

  “I’ll stick it in my calendar.” I resolve to take a dose then and there. “Anything else important I should know?”

  Her smile turns a little sad.

  “I know all of this has been hard on you, but it’s been tough for Archer too. Your mother had only just found out she was pregnant when she was forced into hiding. It was years before Archer got news that the worst had happened. He learned she’d had a baby girl but he never even knew your name, Indy. Can you imagine what that does to someone? That kind of loss.”

  I have a horrible feeling that she’s speaking from personal experience, but I’m afraid to ask.

  “What can I do?” If there’s a way to make this easier for Archer, I want to know

  “You’re doing just fine. I’m here if you need a sounding board. Whether it’s about Archer, those three boys, or just the insanity that is the magic world. Okay?”

  “Thanks, and thank you for these.” I hold up the vials. “They don’t taste awful, do they?”

  Her lips quirk upward in a smile.

  “They’re a sort-of smoky orange flavor. An acquired taste.” She pats my hand and turns to leave. “See you at breakfast, Indy.”

  Jazz yawns loudly as we take our seats around the library t
able.

  As I slide into my chair, a cup of coffee in my hands, something occurs to me.

  “Hey, if this is an important conversation, shouldn’t we be having it in the dead room?”

  Archer takes a seat opposite me.

  “The library has some shielding, as do a few other rooms in the building.”

  “Then why have a dead room at all?”

  “Aside from having the strongest shielding, it leaves certain visitors in no doubt of where they are,” Archer says meaningfully. “Sometimes you want a security system to be covert, and sometimes you want it to look obvious.”

  I think about the entrance mirrors, which are both and neither. It’s too early in the morning for this, and I turn my attention to my coffee. Another few mouthfuls, and I start to feel more awake.

  Archer raps the table to get everyone’s attention. He’s holding a glass paperweight in his hand. At least, that’s what it looks like.

  “Is that a prism?” Ben asks.

  Archer nods, clicks his fingers, and the lights around us dim.

  “Um, are they on a dimmer…?” Before I can finish my question, Archer presses his fingers together. A little ball of light appears above his hand. Oh.

  I haven’t seen many obvious uses of magic since I got here, so it’s fascinating to watch such an open display.

  “My caster abilities include limited telekinesis with a focus on luminescence,” Archer explains when he sees my expression.

  I blink at that, and Jazz rolls his eyes. “In other words, he can control light. Create it, extinguish it, direct it.”

  No wonder my mom fell in love with him. With her being a druid, she must have been like a moth to a flame. It’s the first time I’ve let myself think about her since I found out the truth, and I feel a pang of sadness and longing. I have so many questions. But now is not the time.

  “Not that I don’t enjoy a magic trick as much as the next person, but is there a point to all this?”

  Zac sounds tired, his voice strained. It’s a far cry from how relaxed he was last night. I guess we’re all a little on edge.

  “Just watch,” Archer says.