by Anya Bast
"What's that?”
She only gave him a mischievous smile and kissed him, first on his lips, then down his chest, pushing up his beige sweater to put her lips on his flesh. When she reached his jeans, she ran her tongue over the top of the waistband and looked up at him with a sultry expression on her face.
He dropped his head back and groaned.
Then came the soft noise of a button being undone, the sound of a zipper coming down ... and his gorgeous cock came free and stood at attention. She ran her fingers down it, smoothing the glistening pre-come over the crown.
Jack shivered, and Mira smiled.
"I want you at the mercy of my lips," she murmured, "and my mouth. I want to feel your body totally vulnerable to the mere lick of my tongue ... until you give me everything you have to give.”
"You're going to drive me insane.”
"I don't want to drive you insane. I just want to make you come.”
She caressed him a little while longer with her fingers, feeling every groan, every shudder, every tightening muscle as if through her own body. Mira licked the smooth head, let the tip of her tongue dance around the sides of his shaft, and lowered her lips around his cock.
His fingers twined through her hair as she worked him in and out of her mouth. Once in a while, he gently thrust so the head of his cock touched her tonsils.
When he finally came he pushed deep into her mouth and groaned. He tasted warm and musky against her tongue, down her throat. Mira closed her eyes, enjoying the knowledge that she'd made this man, who loved to be in control, completely lose it to the caress of her lips.
Jack lay for a moment, breathing hard, and then pulled her up his body, sinking his fingers into the hair at her nape. "Damn," he groaned before he rolled her beneath him and kissed her deeply.
She'd never known how good sex could be—this sweet give-and-take of breath, emotion, and body. No shame. No shyness. Just pleasure. No matter what happened between her and Jack in the end, he'd given her that.
They spent the rest of the day together, and that night she went to his room instead of her own.
In the evening she called Annie and tried to cajole her godmother into coming to the Coven. Annie flatly refused, saying she had a store to run and a life to lead. After she hung up, Mira stared at the phone in the living room, a ball of roiling emotion in her stomach.
Jack walked into the room and held his hand out to her. She let him pull her from a sitting position into his arms. He tipped her chin up and kissed her softly, not needing words to comfort her.
She followed him into the bedroom where they undressed each other and curled up naked under the covers, taking pleasure in the feel of their skin touching and their mingling body heat.
Jack guided her face to his and, without a word, kissed her. His lips slipped over hers, soft and slow, as though he savored the taste of her. She made a little noise in the back of her throat and kissed him in return. His tongue feathered against her mouth and she opened to him.
When he dropped his kisses to encompass her throat and her breasts, she let him. When he planed her inner thigh with his broad hand, she spread her legs for him. Patiently, with his skillful touch, he readied her.
When she was slick and swollen, he slid inside her. He rode her slow, then even slower. He held her gaze steadily with his own, breaking it only once in a while to kiss her or murmur into her ear. It was intimate and arousing and made emotions swell within her and tears sheen her eyes.
He made her feel protected and even, almost, loved and cherished.
She climaxed with her legs twined around his hips and his cock thrust way up inside her. Her orgasm triggered his, and they stifled each other's cries with their mouths and tongues.
When they slept, it was in a perspiration-drenched, satisfied tangle of intertwined bodies.
Mira couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so deeply.
Annie bustled into her kitchen and set her bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter. This early in the morning it was colder than a witch's tit outside. She'd always loved that expression.
She shrugged out of her winter coat and busied herself unpacking the bags. Today was an eventful day at the store because of a couple of craft classes she was hosting, so she'd done her shopping early. Thank heavens for grocery stores that were open twenty-four hours.
After everything was put away, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at her small kitchen table. Early morning light filtered in through the window above the sink. From her seat, she gazed past the light green curtains, trying to think of everything she had to do that day, but ending up only thinking about Mira's phone call the night before.
Her goddaughter had sounded so worried about her. Annie felt guilty for not rushing to the Coven for shelter just for Mira's sake, but she felt a need to stand her ground. The Duskoff always sent everyone running for the hills, and she was sick of it. If the bastards wanted her, they could damn well try to take her. She wasn't unfamiliar with how to use magick in a fight.
Annie's gaze shifted. On the shelf over the sink, next to a small pot of miniature roses she'd managed to keep alive indoors all winter, was a high school graduation picture of Mira.
Her goddaughter had always been beautiful and talented in so many ways. She was very empathic, a side effect of being a witch, and would've made a great psychologist if she'd finished school. Annie had been against her marriage to Ben from the start. She'd sensed he was no good for Mira. Annie had let her concerns be known, but she hadn't pushed Mira too hard on the subject. It was Mira's life. Mira's choice.
But even Annie hadn't suspected Ben would turn out to be the schmuck he was. He'd betrayed Mira badly, just as her own godmother had.
Annie closed her eyes, feeling the bitter taste of remorse well up. She keenly regretted deciding to honor Mira's parents' wishes. If she'd told the Coven about her, Mira would've grown up with the training she needed, and she never would've found herself hunted the way she was now.
Her parents had simply wanted her to have a normal life as a non-magickal person. They'd known the dangers facing a powerful air witch, as Mira had been fated to become from conception. They'd meant well and so had Annie, but that saying about good intentions paving the way to hell was true.
She wondered how Mira fared at the Coven now. They hadn't talked for long on the phone the night before. Annie trusted Jack McAllister to keep Mira safe from physical harm, but how was she doing mentally, emotionally? Besides the night before, she'd only talked to Mira once since she'd reached the Coven, and Mira had seemed distant on the phone, confused and overwhelmed by the fact that she had family she'd never known about.
Family that Annie had kept secret from her.
Did Mira hate her now? She had a right to, Annie supposed. She hoped Mira knew she loved her like a daughter. A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away.
Outside on the street were the two bodyguards the Coven had sent to watch over her. She was forever bringing the men hot meals and tea, but they always declined her offers to come into her home or the store. Thomas Monahan had also sent top-rated wardweavers to create powerful wards around her home and business. They worried about her because of her connection to Mira.
But Annie only worried about Mira.
One day, when this was all over, she'd try to make amends for keeping things from her. She only hoped that Mira would forgive her.
Her heart heavy, as it had been for weeks now, Annie got up, put her coffee cup in the sink, grabbed her purse and coat, and headed out her back door to begin her day.
Her heels did not slip on the perfectly clear walkway she managed with her magick. Tall hedges grew on either side of her yard, concealing what she did from non-magickal eyes. Snow removal was easy for her, being comprised of water. She heated it up until it melted, or simply moved it to either side of the walkway.
She reached the alley and her car. The green sedan with the two witches was parked a little further down. S
he waved at them as usual, but they didn't wave back. Annie frowned, lowering her hand and sensing something amiss. She narrowed her eyes—she had a bit of astigmatism—to get a better view.
The witches were slumped over in their seats. They looked incapacitated at the least, dead at worst.
That couldn't bode well.
Footsteps sounded on the cleared walkway behind her. Two men.
Adrenaline surging through her, Annie pulled a strand of magick as she turned to confront the two Duskoff warlocks behind her. One was earth, the other fire.
She gave them no time to react. She drenched them in water and cooled it so fast neither of them could retaliate. They both froze in place.
Then she whirled around, expecting more to be behind her. It was a common tactic. The first were just cannon fodder. When the Duskoff wanted to take a powerful witch, they overwhelmed her, confused her.
Two more came from around the corner of the garage, a water witch and an earth witch, both pulling magick so fast she feared she couldn't stop them. With honed reflexes, she pulled strands and dowsed them, freezing them solid.
Breathing hard, she turned a circle, waiting for the rest. No more warlocks met her view ... but no way had she finished this battle.
A man in a long black trench coat stepped from the alley.
Like some gunfighter on the streets of Deadwood, Annie pulled her magick and directed it at the man, but he moved his hand, and her water flared in a sudden flash of fire and evaporated. She tried again and again as the man neared her.
He was a master of his element. She'd never felt a more powerful fire witch in her life. Annie cast about in her mind for alternatives, ways to defeat this one. Some water witches could manipulate the water in a person's very body, but she didn't possess that ability. Out of options, Annie backed away from him, into one of the men she'd frozen.
As he grew near, she could see his face more clearly. He was ruggedly handsome, with thick, curly blond hair and gray eyes. Stefan. The whole witch community knew who he was. Stefan was almost as well-known as his bastard father.
He threw his arms wide as if greeting an old friend and smiled. "Annie, so good to meet you." Flames sparked in both palms.
He embraced her.
Annie screamed.
TWENTY
Jack awoke to find his bed empty. Sensing Mira still in the room, he turned over, glancing around for her. She stood in her nightgown at the window looking out at the morning-draped front lawn.
"Mira? What are you doing? Come back to bed.”
She turned. The look on her face chilled him. She'd gone pale and her expression seemed perfectly stark. Her eyes seemed to hold nothing.
He got out of bed and went to her. Her arms were cold to his touch. "Baby, what's wrong?”
She stared for a long moment before finally blinking. "Nightmare.”
Jack pulled her against him, but she felt like a board. He rubbed her arms, trying to get her warmed up. "Must have been a bad one," he murmured with his cheek pressed against her hair. "It's still early. Come back to bed." He wanted to hold her, chase that haunted look out of her eyes.
She pulled away from him, blinking twice rapidly. A smile flickered over her mouth. "Sorry. It really freaked me out.”
His heart started beating again. "Sometimes training magick can produce nightmares. It's not uncommon.”
"Really?”
"When the magick is first disturbed, the mind can sometimes be disturbed too. Nightmares are a problem for adolescent witches because of that. Since you're only now being trained, seems likely you'd have them.”
She shuddered. "It was very vivid, like I was there in reality.”
"Witches dream vividly. They're prone to spontaneous lucid dreams too. I don't think I have to tell you how much being lucid in a nightmare can suck.”
"I think I just found out.”
"Come on." He led her back to bed. Once they were both under the heavy blankets, he pulled her against him and spooned her, nestling his hand between her breasts to cover the seat of her magick. "You can tell me about it, if you think it would help.”
"No," she answered quickly. "I just want to forget it." She pulled his hand to her mouth and gave the back of it a kiss. "But thanks.”
"Okay." He glanced at the clock. Tucked against his body, she was finally starting to warm up. It was 8 a.m. They had another half hour before they had to get up and begin training for the day.
They'd spend it just like this.
MIRA HELD OUT HER HAND AND HELPED JACK TO his feet. Grimacing, Jack stood and stretched his back and neck. She was kicking his ass today, and she felt guilty about it.
He'd taken her training over from Serena, figuring it was time to start concentrating more on defensive magick, which was his specialty. They'd gone back to the storage room, where he'd instructed mats be placed on the floor. She was making progress, although it was hard for her to concentrate with the remnants of the dream clinging to her. Still, she managed to best Jack every time he came at her.
Jack had told her it was just a nightmare, and she desperately wanted to believe him. The alternative was too gruesome to consider.
"I'm going to add in my fire now." Jack had been serious all day about her training, driving her to try new things, tweak her magick this way and that way. He was intent that she learn new defensive techniques. She was grateful for his focus because she shared it. Something was building. She could feel it. And it was something bad.
"How does air have any defense against fire, Jack? Air only makes a fire burn hotter and brighter.”
“Think for a moment. What it is that fire needs to burn in the first place?”
It hit her instantly. "Oh.”
Jack nodded. "Defensive magick is a lot like a game of paper-rock-scissors, although that's a deceptively simple description. A lot of it depends on an individual witch's abilities, how creative and quick they are, and their level of power.”
He extended his hand and a fireball formed. It grew larger rapidly, forcing Mira to draw a strand of magick and use it to encase it in a bubble and draw all the air out. It took a lot of concentration, but she finally got the fireball to extinguish.
"Good. Very good, Mira.”
She smiled, proud of herself.
"Now let's try it when I'm not standing still and waiting for you.”
Her smile faded.
Again and again they practiced. Jack made the fire bigger, smaller, threw it across the room, and tossed it directly at her. Finally, Mira could sense and extinguish fire with her eyes closed. By the time she'd mastered the ability she felt exhausted and had a splitting headache, but the hard magickal workout had blessedly wiped away the last vestiges of the nightmare from her mind.
Jack watched her across the room with unmistakable heat in his eyes as she leaned over and braced her hands on her knees, breathing heavy from chasing fire around the room. He stalked toward her and bustled her back against the wall behind her. Jack pinned her there with his hands on either side of her head and stared intently at her.
She blinked. "Er. Is there something you want to say to me, Jack?”
"Just that I think you're incredible, beautiful, smart, and sexy.”
She felt herself flush under the praise. "Got anymore adjectives you want to throw in there?”
"I've watched you meet every challenge that's been thrown at you over these past few weeks. You've never once whimpered, never once whined. In that time period you've gathered as much magickal knowledge as it takes some witches years to learn.”
"Um, thank you." She never knew what to do with praise. "I'm kind of motivated, you know?”
His voice lowered seductively. "Did I mention the sexy part? The beautiful part?" He leaned toward her and gently brushed his lips across hers. The slight touch made her body hum with awareness of him. He rested his forehead against hers. "Damn, Mira. I think I—" He bit off the end of his sentence. "I care about you a lot. And there's no way I'm letting you use
any of this defensive magick you've learned. Crane and his minions will get near you over my dead body.”
She smiled at the vehement protectiveness in his voice. "Well, that's the last thing I want, Jack, because I care about you, too.”
Something dark moved in his eyes. "Last task for the day. Throw me back. I'm the enemy. Repel me.”
She shook her head. "No, I'm finished for the day. You probably already have ten bruises—”
"Do it.”
"No.”
"Do it.”
"No!”
His eyes turned a terrible shade of red and flame seemed to flicker in their depths. "Do it, Mira," he growled low.
She did it.
Jack went careening backward and landed on his ass about ten feet away. He didn't move.
Stupid man! Mira ran to him and knelt by his side. His eyes were closed. "Jack? Are you all right?”
He opened his eyes and had her beneath him so fast she couldn't even yelp in surprise. "Great... now," he murmured right before his mouth came down on hers.
His lips worked over hers, and his knee insinuated itself between her thighs. Mira's aches and pains from the day, her headache, all faded under his touch. She let her hands play over his broad shoulders, let her fingers tangle in the silky hair at his nape as he kissed her.
She loved him.
Mira could never tell him that, but she did. There was nothing she could do about it. The feelings had hit her like a Mack truck.
Jack slid his hand under her shirt and rubbed his thumb back and forth against her waist, making her shiver. She pushed up, forcing him over onto his back so she could straddle him. Her mouth worked over his as she yanked the hem of his shirt up, wanting to kiss over his chest.
He cupped her face in his hands before she could lower her mouth to him. "Mira...”
Just then someone opened the door. Thomas stuck his head in. He surveyed the scene for a moment before speaking. "Glad to see the training is going well.”
