Turning to face him, I cocked a brow as his hands seemed to settle instinctively around my waist. His gaze centered on my mouth as I licked my wind-dried lips. Maybe a mutual attraction wasn’t all in my head. He’d been pushing my limits for days and it was only fair to retaliate a little bit.
“We should try that last one again. I’m not sure I got it right.”
“No, you got it,” he murmured low in his throat.
“Are you sure? I don’t think I’m using my hips correctly. Can you show me again? Maybe slower?”
“Slower?” He groaned. “You’re killing me, Graves.”
“I know. I just want the move to be perfect. It’s life and death, after all.” I flashed him an innocent smile.
Caden’s eyes blazed as I trailed the edge of my fingernail across his abdomen. Swallowing hard, he captured my hand and spun me around. Voice tight, he said, “Your hips are fine. Pick up your dagger.”
He shoved me toward my abandoned blade. That was too easy. I stifled a satisfied grin as I scooped it up and tried to get my bearings. The mound of tires was on my left, creating a barrier. A glass field of broken bottles littered the ground in front of me.
The wind whistled through the brush, masking the sound of Caden’s charge. He wasn’t playing anymore. I might have pushed him too far. Spinning on my heel, I blocked his blow with my forearm. He came at me again, faster. My tennis shoes slid over loose gravel as I ducked his swing.
The sun filtered through the trees, getting in my eyes as I performed an attack move. I misjudged the angle of my blade, squinting from the harsh sunlight. He easily blocked my kill strike and swiped my feet out from beneath me.
I landed on my tailbone in the dirt, sucking in a lungful of air. A few feet to the left was an Elle-sized indent in the weeds. During this training session, I’d been on my butt more than I’d been on my feet. I groaned in frustration and bent to tighten the laces on my shoes as if they were the cause of my misfortune, and not my inexperience or pent-up sexual tension.
Caden tossed me a bottle of water. I twisted the top and drank half in one pull. He stood over me, a halo of sunlight behind his head. Except he was no angel. Well, Angel of Death, maybe. Angel of Kicking My Ass and Enjoying It—definitely.
“You need to focus, Graves.”
Ha! As if he was focused on anything besides my hips, a moment ago.
“I am! The stupid sun got in my eyes, and it’s cold today. My hands are frozen.” I blew into my palms to prove my point.
Caden crouched next to me and shook his head. “Next time you’re fighting a demon, make sure to ask them to stand in the shadows and give you a hot chocolate first. I’m sure that’ll work out just fine.”
I splashed water on his boots and wrinkled my nose. “Your sarcasm is noted.”
“Come on. On your feet. I’ll warm you up.”
“You will?” I scrambled to my feet with a little too much enthusiasm, losing the cap on my water bottle without giving it a second thought.
“Yeah, hold on.” He walked out of the fighting circle and reached for his bag. Rummaging through it, he withdrew something and tossed it my way. “Here—try these.”
“Fingerless gloves?” I grumbled, sliding them onto my hands.
“They’re great for training. What did you think I meant?”
A combat training snuggle session. But I wasn’t saying that out loud.
“Nothing. These are cool, I guess.” I heaved a sigh and sank into a defensive stance. Might as well accept the gesture and move on to Elle Takes a Beating, Part Two. It wasn’t like Elle Gets Laid was happening anytime soon.
Caden grinned as if he’d just solved all my problems and jogged back into the circle. “I thought you’d like them. They’re fireproof and have grip pads.”
I wriggled my fingers. “They’re also orange and have little black cats on them.”
He winked. “Perfect for a witch during hunting season.”
I did like that. He was pretty thoughtful.
“Like I always say, safety first.”
My hands were already warmer. Now, if I could only do something about the sun.
Caden crooked his finger, signaling me to attack. His gaze sparked with challenge, and a grin spread across his lips.
I took my time, analyzing the landscape. We circled each other. My grip tightened around my weapon. I had yet to land a killing blow, which meant in every training scenario we’d practiced so far I had ended up dead. Not exactly an ego boost for an up-and-coming demon-hunter.
I needed to do something smart. Something Caden wouldn’t expect. He read me like an open spell book, always knowing my next move—usually before I even knew myself, which was infuriating. But if I could take him by surprise, I might be able to win a round.
What would Ivy do?
She’d hack and slash her way to a pile of dead demons, always relying more on her weapon than on the world around her. That wasn’t my style. Ivy was a one-woman show, and what I needed was an army. My gaze scanned the ground then flicked back up to Caden.
Moving toward the edge of the circle, I led him farther away from the barren, dirt-covered ground, and closer to the thick, weedy section. My shoes sank into the knee-high grass. It was harder to navigate. Easier to trip, and also in the full, blinding sun. But I had a plan. And considering Caden’s quizzical look when I sheathed my dagger in front of him, he hadn’t figured it out yet.
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
I lifted a shoulder. “It was getting heavy.”
“Whatever, it’s your funeral. I’ll bring flowers.”
“Don’t skimp and get cheap ones.”
His mouth edged up at the corners. Taking advantage of me being unarmed, he charged first, a predator cutting through the swath of undergrowth to take down its prey. It was now or never. I spun and sidestepped his attack, placing him in the direct path of the sun. He turned, squinting at the harsh glare. Before he could get his bearings, I summoned a gust of magical wind, creating a vortex of fallen leaves.
They circled us like a horde of flying bats. Caden lifted his arm to block the swarm while I darted forward. I grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him as hard as I could backward while executing a leg sweep behind his ankles.
The momentum took him down, and the tall weeds tangled his feet, preventing him from regaining his balance. He landed on his back. I dropped to one knee, unsheathed my dagger, and held it poised above his heart.
My pulse pounded from the exhilarating maneuver. A sheen of sweat cooled on my brow, and I grinned like the Cheshire Cat.
“You lose, Caden,” I said in a breathy murmur.
Leaves drifted slowly to the ground, settling around us like brittle snowflakes. His chest rose and fell on harsh breaths. He reached out, wrapping his fingers around my wrist, holding me in place with his searing gaze.
My grin slowly faded as awareness sizzled across my skin. The pad of his thumb stroked across my pulse point.
“Losing to you feels a lot like winning,” he said. There was a strange note to his voice. It was dark and husky. My stomach tightened at the rough sound.
His throat worked, gaze dropping to my mouth. Was he going to kiss me? A witch can hope.
“What?” I swallowed, my throat dry from the heated look in his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He hesitated, his features warring with some inner turmoil. It was a fight he lost as he released my wrist and reached to cup the back of my neck with his palm.
“Because you’re so beautiful, Graves,” he said, drawing me down to him and capturing my lips in an impulsive kiss.
My eyes widened then closed as his mouth moved over mine. Maybe it was the pent-up energy. Maybe it was the attraction that had been building for weeks. Maybe he was just a damn good kisser. Pretty sure it was all three, but I completely lost myself in the sensation.
The dagger slipped from my grip, landing with a muffled thump in the grass. I swept my hands across his
chest, molding my fingers over his shoulder blades. He made a delicious sound in the back of his throat that I matched with one of my own.
I’m kissing my demon-hunting partner! There were strict rules against this. No romantic entanglements. It was literally an entire chapter in the Spellwork training manual. Forbidden with a capital “F.”
Caden rolled me beneath him. His fingers delved into my hair, loosening my ponytail. Grass and leaves clung to my clothes. The weight of his body pressed me deeper into the weeds. I didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he lingered over my mouth, making my heart pound as his tongue swept over mine.
Screw the books!
He slowed the kiss and pulled back, inhaling a ragged breath. Our gazes held for a heart-fluttering moment. A smile tugged his lips as he plucked a leaf from my hair then dragged the delicate edge along my jaw.
“You’re a mess, Graves.”
“It’s your fault. Like most things.”
He brushed a soft kiss over my forehead. “Guilty as charged.”
A man’s throat cleared.
A dog growled.
I went still as Caden’s head dropped into the curve of my shoulder with a heavy sigh. He cursed under his breath.
Caden rolled off me and blocked Oscar’s view while I sat up and wiped the grass from my hair and the front of my shirt. My cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. Getting caught making out by your ghost mentor is the worst!
Oscar’s judgment was palpable. Loki didn’t look pleased either. The dog lifted his snout into the air and eyed Caden with a killing glare. Good thing he was all ghostly growl and no bite.
“Caden, may I have a word with you in private?” Oscar crossed his arms over his tweed jacket.
Caden nodded, reaching back to offer me a hand to help me climb to my feet. He brushed a determined leaf from my shoulder. “Why don’t you wait out here for a moment, Graves? Pack up our stuff. No more training for today.”
“Are you sure?” It didn’t seem fair for Caden to face Oscar’s wrath all on his own. It took two to tango, and I was definitely a guilty party.
“I’m sure.”
Oscar cleared his throat deeply again and gestured toward the manor. “Elle, you may join us shortly in the library. I’ve uncovered some information regarding our case that I would like to share with the group.” He narrowed his gaze on Caden. “Follow me, young man.”
The three of them made their way toward the manor, Caden trudging through the underbrush, Oscar floating over top of it, and Loki taking up the rear like a disgruntled pooch who hadn’t been fed dinner. Before he disappeared through the back door, Caden gave me an encouraging smile over his shoulder.
He could pretend all he wanted, but we were definitely in trouble. I tried to recall the last time I’d heard of a member of the Spellwork Organization being punished for rule breaking. Had it been sixty days in a haunted crypt with nothing but a can opener and a trunk full of nonperishable items? The ghosts I could take, but the canned beans? I gagged. There was a reason I’d never last long in a zombie apocalypse, and it wasn’t because I was afraid of killing zombies.
I checked the time on my phone. I’d give them ten minutes then go inside and learn my fate.
Chapter 17
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Oscar hissed on the other side of the door.
I slowed to a stop outside the library. Neither of them had heard me coming down the hall, and it seemed they were still in conversation.
“Everything will be fine, Oscar. Just keep up your end of the deal.”
“I have limits, Caden, and you’re treading very close to one of them. I will not stand by and—”
“I said it will be fine.”
A cold feeling washed down my back. This wasn’t the one-sided scolding I’d imagined; something else was going on. I moved closer to the door, hoping to get some more information. When a board creaked beneath my shoe, I winced, cursing the old house for giving me away.
Seconds later, Caden opened the door.
“Hey, is everything okay?” I asked, peering past his shoulder at Oscar.
“Yeah, come in. We’ve cleared everything up.”
Caden squeezed my arm as I entered the library. He may be convinced there was nothing to worry about, but I felt the lingering tension in the air. Oscar wouldn’t meet my gaze. He fidgeted with his bow tie before smoothing a hand down his vest.
“Have a seat, young lady.” Oscar pointed toward a wingback chair in front of his desk. Caden strolled to an adjacent chair and, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world, sank into the seat.
A fire crackled in the hearth, warming the drafty room. Loki was curled up in front of it with his chin on his paws. He watched the proceedings with about as much apprehension as Oscar. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was somehow missing a piece to a puzzle I hadn’t even realized I was putting together.
I took my seat, and Loki floated over, nestling in front of my shoes. He growled in the back of his throat at Caden, and I snapped my fingers.
“Loki, stop.”
The dog chuffed and grew quiet.
“All right. Now that we’re all here, we can get started,” Oscar said, squaring his shoulders. “After much research, I have discovered information regarding the item the demon mentioned during Elle’s attack. As I suspected, the Soulbinder is an ancient tome.”
“Wait.” I meekly held up my hand, interrupting Oscar’s monologue.
“Yes, Elle—do you have something to say to the group?”
A flush crept across my cheeks, and I felt a little like a misbehaving schoolgirl. “Um, I wasn’t sure if you were going to address . . .” I glanced at Caden, who gave me a firm shake of his head. Okay, message received. Don’t bring up the kiss. I cleared my throat and started again. “What I mean is, I wasn’t sure if you were going to address the origin of the book.”
Oscar flattened his lips until they disappeared beneath his mustache. “I will, my dear, if you’ll let me finish.”
“Right. Please continue.” I slumped in my seat and chewed on my thumbnail. It was nice to know Oscar seemed willing to gloss over what he’d witnessed in the back yard, but somehow, it still made me nervous. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or, in my case, waiting for the crypt door to slam closed.
Although, if ever there were a reason to risk punishment, making out with Caden Bishop was right at the top of the list. Hell, he was the list, and I wouldn’t mind checking off a few more items.
“Elle, do you need a glass of water?” Oscar asked, forcing my mind out of the gutter.
“What?” I choked, pulling at the collar of my shirt. It is so freaking hot in here. Save some firewood for the winter, guys.
“It’s just your face is red and you look flushed.”
“No, I’m fine. He’s not a thirst trap—I mean, I’m not thirsty!” Liar, liar, yoga pants on fire. “I’m very comfortable. This chair is nice.” I ran my hands over the upholstery. “Is it an antique? It’s probably worth a fortune. We should get an appraiser.”
Oscar’s eyebrows squished together as I rambled. “Are you sure you’re all right? What’s a thirst trap?”
Caden tipped his head back and laughed. “Graves gets chatty when she’s flustered. I’ll explain it to you some other time, Oscar.”
“I do not get chatty,” I growled under my breath.
“Tell that to your pajamas.”
My molars ground together. “Yeah, well, keep it up, and you’ll never see them again.”
“Oh, my word.” Oscar pressed a hand to his temple, looking scandalized. “This century is indecent.” He pounded his fist against the desk, but it just sank through the wood. “Get it together, you two. We have serious supernatural business to attend to, and I’m not interested in your brothel talk.”
I swallowed a giggle and nodded solemnly. “Sorry, Oscar. We’re listening. Please, tell us more about the book.”
Oscar narrowed his gaze on each of us then cla
sped his hands together as he started to pace.
“As I was saying, the Soulbinder is an ancient, very powerful book. It was buried centuries ago to keep it out of the hands of anyone who would use it for evil. Inside lies the key to unlock the souls of the dead, bind them with the living, and allow them to wreak havoc in this realm.”
“And the demon activity in Thornbridge is because the book has been found?” I asked.
“Yes, I believe the book was among the artifacts discovered at the dig site. Which means it’s likely responsible for Professor Roberts’ murder.”
Caden leaned forward in his chair. “You’re probably right, but the book’s missing, and if the demon who attacked Elle was looking for it, then they don’t have it either. So where is it?”
“That’s the question we need answered—and fast. If the demons get their hands on it first, there will be no stopping them. We have to find the Soulbinder and rid this realm of any evil that knows of its existence. It’s our top priority,” Oscar said, giving Caden a pointed look.
“Understood,” Caden said, holding up his hands in concession.
“There’s one other thing. A messenger delivered a small box to the manor a short while ago. It’s still on the stoop. I suggest you go fetch it.”
Caden was up and moving before Oscar finished. He thundered down the stairs, leaving me to sit awkwardly in my chair awaiting his return. I fought the urge to make small talk.
Almost a minute ticked by in silence.
“Elle?” Oscar floated around the desk and hovered in front of me. He grimaced and seemed to struggle to find the right words to finish his thought. “Please be careful. There are things you can’t possibly understand. I never should have agreed . . .” His voice faded, gaze dropping to his polished boots.
“Oscar, none of this is your fault. I know what my responsibilities are, and I’ll do my best not to let the organization down. I promise.”
A Grave Spell (The Spellwork Files Book 1) Page 14
