by Lisa Edmonds
Sean collapsed onto his forearms to keep from putting all his weight on me. My magic drew back inside me and settled into my core. Through the haze, I could feel that my energy level was nearly back to normal. Good sex can build magical energy quickly, and that was very good sex.
I was still breathing hard, my heart racing. Sean looked down at me, his eyes dark with passion, and nuzzled my neck. “Holy shit,” he breathed into my ear. “I don’t know what just happened, but that was incredible.”
I couldn’t have spoken if my life depended on it, but I definitely agreed with his assessment.
We lay there for a few minutes to catch our breath, then Sean slowly disengaged and got up while I stayed where I was. He disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the toilet flush and the sound of water running in the sink.
He returned to the bedroom, still naked, and pulled the covers back. He scooped me up and I squawked. He laughed and settled me into the bed, then climbed in beside me and pulled the covers over us. He drew me close to snuggle with my head on his chest.
My exhaustion had been replaced with contentment. I lay in bed and listened to Sean’s heartbeat.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“Your heart is going a million miles an hour.” I tilted my head up to look at him. “And it’s hot under the covers. You’re like a furnace.”
He grinned and flipped the comforter back so we were just covered by the sheet.
“Ahhhh, that’s much better,” I murmured with a sigh.
My brain slowly came back online. I saw my bedroom and sat bolt upright in shock.
Unleashed, my magic had swept through the room like a tornado. Clothes were everywhere. Everything that had been on top of my dresser or hanging on the wall was on the floor. My lamp and hamper were turned over. The files from my nightstand were scattered across the room.
Sean sat up next to me. “I take it this isn’t something that happens around here very often?” he teased.
“Um, no. This would be a first for me.”
Sean looked smug then. Men. I rolled my eyes.
We settled back into the bed, and he wrapped his arms around me. It was officially morning; I heard cars going by outside as my neighbors headed off to work. Daylight streamed through the window. I stretched, but from the bed I couldn’t reach the curtains. Sean reached up and pulled them closed and the room fell into near-darkness.
“Do you want me to stay?” Sean asked.
I couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t really sound like he wanted to leave. I was hardly a dewy-eyed romantic who demanded her lovers stick around afterward, but it might be nice to go to sleep with someone warm in my bed. My stomach still ached, and I was rattled from the run-in with the landmine.
“If you don’t have any place you need to be, you’re welcome to stay,” I told him.
“I don’t have to be anywhere.” Now that we had recovered somewhat and cooled off a bit, I was starting to feel chilly. Without being asked, he pulled the comforter back up over us. “One of the benefits of owning the company is that I have flexible hours most days. I don’t have to be in the office today until a meeting at three.” He rubbed his stubbly chin on the top of my head, and the bristles scratching my scalp felt good. “We can sleep in if you want.”
“I do want.” I yawned and rolled over onto my other side. Sean spooned up behind me, fitting his body against my curves. I let him wrap his arm around me and pull me close.
As good as the sex was, and as much as I appreciated that he seemed to really care that it was as satisfying for me as it was for him, Sean was a one-night stand. A damn fine one, though, and with any luck, after we’d slept, he’d have at least one more chance to show off his skills before I sent him on his way.
Just before sleep pulled me under, I remembered my earrings. I took them out, stretched over the edge of the bed, and tossed them lightly onto the nightstand before settling back into the warmth of Sean’s arms. I felt his breath on the back of my neck.
As I was drifting off, Sean whispered, “Sweet dreams, Alice.”
Good night. I wasn’t sure if I thought it or said it. Between one heartbeat and the next, I was sound asleep.
Chapter 7
When I wake up, I will be a different person.
In a city a thousand miles from where I grew up and two thousand miles from where I am headed, I stand in front of a mirror looking at my face for the last time.
In a few minutes, a plastic surgeon will begin the long and painful process of turning me into Alice Worth, an unremarkable earth and air mage who is about to move to the West Coast to start a new life. My face will be completely different. This me, the one in the mirror, will be gone forever. I am trying to figure out how I feel. I should be scared, I suppose. Maybe relieved or angry. Instead, I just feel numb.
After the night I left the cabal compound, it took me nearly a week to get here and another week before I found a plastic surgeon who could be trusted to do the work I needed. The surgeon is a mage whose family was killed by a cabal. He knows who I am and he wants to help.
There is a picture taped to the mirror of the real Alice Worth. I run my fingertips over my face, feeling my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my lips, my chin, and try to imagine looking into the glass and seeing that other woman looking back at me. Somehow, I already feel like this isn’t my face anymore, like it’s been on too long already. I’m impatient to have it be gone so I can start recovering. It will be at least another week before I am able to resume my run across the country to my final destination.
Although I have heard nothing to make me think I am being pursued, and the news is filled with images of my grandfather openly grieving over my death, I can’t help but feel like danger is nipping at my heels. I want to be moving on, but this stop is necessary. I can go no farther wearing this face.
There is a quiet knock on the door. It’s the surgeon, asking if I am ready.
I’ve been ready for this moment for as long as I can remember.
As I lie back on the table, the surgeon asks again if I am sure I want to do this. With no hesitation, I tell him yes. I look at the world as Moses Murphy’s granddaughter one last time, and then an ocean of soft darkness sweeps me away.
*
I woke to the unfamiliar sensation of a very large, very warm body pressed up against my backside and an arm curled around my middle. Sean was nuzzling my neck. He’d opened the curtains a bit to let some afternoon sunlight into the room. I blinked fuzzily at the clock on the nightstand to see it was a little after one. I’d had about six hours of sleep and felt pretty good. I yawned and started to stretch.
Agony flared in my stomach, and I gasped and curled into a ball. Either my sore abdominal muscles had tightened up and they were simply cramping, or it was actual injuries from the landmine I’d triggered. The pain made me breathe in short, panting breaths.
“Alice, what’s wrong?” Sean was wide awake in an instant. “You’re hurt.”
I gritted my teeth and managed not to whimper.
He looked at my stomach, but there was nothing to see. The injury, whatever it was, was on the inside. I focused on breathing through the pain, and it started to recede.
“The wards…from yesterday,” I finally managed to say. “It’s just a muscle cramp. I’m okay.”
Sean made a snarly noise. “You keep saying you’re fine and you’re okay, but it’s pretty clear you’re not.” He sounded angry. “I can smell blood. You may be bleeding internally.”
I froze and looked at him—like, really, really looked at him.
In the daylight, I could see a faint gold sheen over his eyes that reflected the light in a way no human eye did. Add that to his muscular physique, body temperature, tendency to rub his face against me, and ability to smell an internal injury, and….
“Werewolf?” I guessed.
Sean went perfectly still. We stared at each other.
A number of emotions wer
e visible on his face: worry, anger, and…fear? What was he afraid of, that I’d turn on him? I supposed it was a legitimate concern for a werewolf these days, when we were all afraid of each other and the Agency.
I sighed and gingerly rubbed my abdomen where the pain had faded to soreness, like I’d done too many sit-ups. I wasn’t worried that Sean was a werewolf. If it were nearer the full moon, I might have been concerned, but as it was, I doubted he’d be going furry on me. Since a bite from a werewolf in wolf form was the only way to contract the virus, I was more bothered by the pain in my stomach and the possibility of internal injuries.
Sean cleared his throat. “Should I leave?”
Carefully, so I didn’t strain my stomach muscles, I turned so I could face him. His arms were still around me, but he looked grim.
I took his face in my hands and kissed him.
At first, he didn’t respond; I think I surprised him. Then he kissed me back with a hunger that took my breath away. When we separated, he met my gaze with dark eyes that shone gold. How I’d missed the signs last night, I had no idea. I must have been too preoccupied with the events of the day.
Sean touched my face. “So you’re not angry?”
I shook my head. “I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. Sure, I’d have preferred it if you’d told me last night, but it wouldn’t have changed anything. It’s not like I can catch it from having sex with you.”
That made him relax a little, but he looked concerned as he placed his hand carefully on my stomach. “What kind of wards did you walk into yesterday? What magic could hurt you like this?”
I debated what I could tell him without breaching client confidentiality. “The wards were set by a woman who died a couple of months ago. When I walked into them, they did this.” I pointed to the burn on my chest. It was still red, and it hurt the way burns did: a steady, hot, stinging sensation that hadn’t faded much since last night.
Sean paled. “That’s right over your heart.”
“Yep. The wards were designed to kill. I was lucky they had faded.”
He stared at me.
I kept talking. “I needed to take down the wards for my client. The unweaving went fine, but apparently there was a landmine, and it got me.” He didn’t say anything. “I threw up a lot, and some of it was blood. That’s probably what you’re smelling. Honestly, I don’t think I’m actually still bleeding internally—”
Sean lost it.
I squeaked as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his body with a growl. He was careful not to hold me too tightly, though his arms felt like steel. “I want to kill the person who hurt you.”
“You can’t; she’s dead already,” I said into his chest. “I don’t need a protector, Sean. I’m not looking for someone to take care of me, or fight my battles for me.”
“I know, but I’m an alpha. My instinct is to protect…” He hesitated. “People who are injured.”
“Females and the weak,” I corrected him. “I know. I’m familiar enough with werewolves to understand that, but I’m not part of your pack, or yours to protect. I’m just your one-night stand.”
Sean pulled back. “Is that what this is?” He looked startled, as if that hadn’t been anything close to what he expected me to say. I wondered if he was used to women who got emotionally attached to one-night stands. He wouldn’t have to worry about that with me; emotional attachments weren’t really my thing.
I patted his chest affectionately. “Sean, we both had a good time, but I don’t have any illusions about how this goes.”
Sean’s expression went flat. “How do you think ‘this’ goes?”
I ran my hands over his chest, scratching him lightly with my nails, and he made that growly sound I liked. “We lie here for a while longer, since neither of us has to be anywhere immediately, then we have sex again because you’re that damn good at it, and then we part company with good feelings and good memories.”
Sean leaned close to me. Before I realized what he was doing, he inhaled deeply. I recoiled, taken aback by his suddenly very werewolf behavior. “What I’m smelling isn’t old injuries from yesterday. I’m pretty sure you are still bleeding internally. You need medical attention, Alice.”
I put my hands on my aching stomach and knew he was right. “I have healing spells,” I told him with a sigh. “Give me a minute.” I started to slide off the bed.
“Do you need help?”
I shook my head and stood, heading for my bathroom. “This won’t take long. There’s another bathroom down the hall if you need to use it.” I went in and closed the door.
After I used the toilet, I dug around in a drawer and took out my first aid kit, a small wooden box with runes carved on all sides. The runes were spells that hid the energy stored within. I traced three runes on the lid, then opened it. Inside the box were crystals containing healing spells of various strengths, color-coded from light green—minor injury—to dark purple—possibly fatal wound. I took out a green crystal, held it gently against the burn on my chest, braced myself, and said, “Helios.”
Magic flared and I sucked in a breath as the spell went to work on the burn. It felt like a hundred tiny needles were stabbing me. The sensation lasted for about thirty seconds before fading. When I took my hand away, the burn was gone, leaving a faint scar. I set the crystal aside to be respelled when I had time.
Whatever the landmine had done to my insides, it was going to take a stronger spell to fix it. I rooted around in the box and came up with a mid-range blue crystal. This one was going to hurt. Mindful of Sean in the next room, I turned on the shower to help mask any sounds and grabbed a hand towel. I sat down on the bath mat next to the tub, pressed the crystal against my stomach, and invoked the spell.
I stuffed the towel into my mouth to muffle my cries. Now the needles were inside me, and it felt like they were ripping through my insides as the spell went to work on the damage. This much pain from the healing spell meant there really were significant internal injuries. I’d always thought healing spells should feel good, not hurt, but no one had ever been successful at creating one that wasn’t painful. I bit down on the towel and tried to be quiet.
Minutes crawled by. When the pins-and-needles sensation finally faded, I dropped the empty spell crystal on the rug and pushed myself to my feet using the side of the tub. My stomach felt tender in the way that recently healed injuries do. I put the box away in the drawer, washed my face and rinsed my mouth, and turned off the shower.
When I opened the bathroom door, Sean was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking very tense. He’d probably heard enough to know that the healing spells had hurt. He stood and looked me over. “Are you all right?”
“I am now. All healed.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him warmly. He relaxed against me and kissed me back.
We returned to the bed, and Sean pulled me into his arms. My fingers traced over his shoulders, feeling the definition of his muscles. His hands moved up my back, caressing.
“Where did you get these scars?” he asked.
I stiffened. The scars on my back were from another lifetime. My phoenix tattoo covered most of the damage, but the lines were still visible if you looked closely. Healing spells and even plastic surgery could only do so much. The only thing that might heal them completely would be slicing the scars off and pouring vampire blood over the wounds, but I had no desire to undergo that particularly extreme measure.
“I used to know some bad people,” I said.
He stilled. “How bad?”
“Very bad.” I moved my head so my lips were against his neck. The smell of him eased the tension in my shoulders. I wondered absently if alphas gave off calming pheromones.
“I saw the scars while you were asleep.” Sean’s fingers traced the lines. “I assume healing spells were used…after?”
“Yes. A lot of them, for a long time.” My voice was level.
He took a deep, involuntary breath. “And these scars rema
in?”
Intensive healing spells could heal most severe injuries with minimal or no scarring. Right now, he was imagining how bad the wounds had been for the spells to have been unable to heal me completely. I didn’t have to imagine anything; I’d been conscious for all of it. I knew my back looked butchered when the blood mage had finished with me. For it to look as good as it did now was nothing short of miraculous.
I was suddenly cold. I wanted heat and to be distracted from the memories, and I knew one sure way to get both.
I drew his hand up to my mouth so I could lightly bite his fingers, and he made a snarly wolf sound that sparked an instant reaction. I was suddenly very aware of my breasts brushing against his chest. I reached down and stroked him gently.
Sean groaned and shifted on the bed. “Alice—”
I nipped his bottom lip and his eyes turned gold. I pushed him onto his back and moved to my hands and knees so I could lick slowly across his chest. He reached for me, but I moved away and bent over him, teasing him with my mouth and tongue and making him writhe. I found I liked having an alpha werewolf at my mercy.
He moved so quickly, all I saw was a blur. One second I was leaning forward to draw him into my mouth again, and the next I was on my back and he was on top of me, his hand between my thighs, and I was crying out. Blissful minutes later, I was gasping and screaming and trying to pull away from him, but he held me tight until I stopped shuddering.
When I opened my eyes, Sean looked at me with an expression of such fierce passion that I went still. “Condoms?”
“Nightstand. Bottom drawer,” I panted.
The drawer opened, the box tore, a packet crinkled, and then Sean was back. “Up,” he commanded, raising me and turning me over onto my stomach.
I resisted, self-conscious about my scars in the daylight, but then he was kissing my back and suddenly I didn’t care anymore. He pulled me onto my hands and knees, his hands on my hips, and then he pushed into me from behind. I arched my back with a cry.
