Hunted by Sin: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Gatekeeper Chronicles Book 2)

by Jasmine Walt

  “I’m wounded. I do not curse . . . well, maybe in my head, but hardly ever out loud.”

  Ajitah and Drake exchanged glances.

  “What?” I didn’t curse . . . did I?

  “Just be extra cautious,” Eamon said with a smile.

  Danny ran into the room. “Dad, we brushed our teeth. Can you tuck us in now?”

  Ajitah stood as his son’s eyes fell on me. “Malina, can you tell us a story?”

  Seriously, that boy turned my heart into a knob of butter. He’d even managed to get me to tell bedtime stories, and I was getting pretty good at them.

  “Sure.” I placed my glass on the coffee table, took Danny’s tiny hand, and allowed him to tug me out of the room.

  Ajitah was right behind us. “I can tell you boys a story.”

  “I know,” Danny said. “But Malina does the voices.”

  “I do?”

  Danny giggled. “You so do.”

  I hadn’t realized.

  We climbed the steps, Danny chattering about his day and how the tree house was actually a fortress. We found Jimmy and Adam already in their beds, and Danny quickly hopped into his. Ajitah proceeded to tuck them all in while I dimmed the lights and sat cross-legged on the floor.

  “Ooh, tell us a story about a fierce dragon and three awesome knights,” Adam said.

  “I have just the tale. Once upon a time . . .”

  Half an hour later, the boys were snoring, and Ajitah and I crept out of the room, carefully closing the door. We flopped onto the sofa.

  “Thanks for doing that,” Ajitah said.

  I turned my head to face him. “You don’t have to thank me. I enjoy spending time with them.”

  “And me? Do you enjoy spending time with me?” His voice was hushed, breathy, and my mouth grew dry again . . .

  I licked my lips. “You know I do.”

  His gaze roved over my face. “I think I know what you feel . . . sometimes. But then you pull away, and I’m not so sure anymore.” He ducked his head. “Pathetic, isn’t it? In the arena, I’m a force to be reckoned with—no doubt, no procrastination. Before I knew you, really knew you, I didn’t care about anything but the boys. I didn’t realize how lonely I was.” He looked up and locked eyes with me. “Now all I can think about is you.” His eyes darkened.

  Ajitah wanted me. Of course, I knew he wanted me, and I wanted him, too. Carmella was right. I needed to make a choice, and I needed to be safe. Seeing Garuda today had reinforced what I already knew—there could never be a him and me—but with Ajitah . . . well, I could have what I wanted. I could have normal.

  He leaned in slightly.

  This was the moment I would usually glance away, change the subject, and make an excuse to leave.

  But not tonight.

  Not this time.

  I was sick of fighting my attraction. I shifted closer to him, my gaze dropping to his lips as my skin tingled in anticipation.

  “Malina . . .”

  His breath brushed my cheek and his lips were on mine, soft and questioning. I was so done with questions; I wanted more. Grabbing the back of his neck, I pulled him close, parting my lips to allow him entry. I needed to taste him, to feel him against me. I shifted so I was straddling him, so I was in control. His hardness pressed against my crotch, his need a vibration of his chest. Ajitah’s hands slid under my vest, skating over my skin to grip my waist, fingers pinching as he thrust up in a carnal motion.

  Oh God, I wanted him so fucking bad, and I wanted him right now. The months of abstinence, the weeks of denying what I needed, all crashed down on me, and I was ripping at his shirt, desperate to feel skin on skin.

  “Dad?” Jimmy’s voice drifted through the bedroom door.

  We froze.

  “Dad?”

  We scrambled apart.

  “Coming,” Ajitah called out.

  We stood by the sofa, chests rising and falling. Ajitah’s eyes were all pupil, his mouth parted and bruised from my assault.

  I reached up and ran a thumb across his bottom lip. “To be continued?”

  He cupped the back of my neck, pulling me close and leaning his forehead against mine. “You can fucking bet on it.”

  6

  Breakfast the next morning was a full English affair: sausage, bacon, fried bread, fried tomatoes, hash browns, fried egg, and beans. Yeah, a lot of fried stuff, but man, it was delish. We scoffed in the silence. Ajitah sat opposite me, Drake was to my left, and Eamon sat next to Ajitah, opting for just a cup of coffee over the fried goodness on offer.

  The triplets had been up since six and had already eaten. They were out in the garden, their yells of delight audible through the partially open patio doors.

  I loved this time. The family feel of it. The normality. I looked up, mouth full of hash browns, and caught Ajitah’s eye. He’d just taken a huge bite of fried bread. His eyes crinkled, and we burst out laughing, hands over mouths to keep the food from spraying. Ajitah might be cool and cultured most of the time, but he was as much of a pig as me when it came to food.

  “You two are gluttons, you know that?” Drake said.

  I chewed and swallowed. “I’m a hellhound. I need my food.”

  “Yeah? What’s your excuse, Ajitah?”

  “Keeping up with a hellhound takes energy?”

  Our eyes locked and the memory of his lips on mine, his hardness pressed against me, sent a lance of electric pleasure through me.

  I quickly dropped my gaze to my plate before Eamon noticed, biting back the irritation at myself. Why was I getting so worried about this? I was a grown-ass woman who could shag whomever I wished. But . . . he was my dad, and we lived under his roof, so . . . yeah, he needed to know. I’d tell him . . . as soon as I got comfortable with the idea of dating Ajitah.

  I finished up the food on my plate and gulped down my coffee. “I’m done.”

  Drake drained his cup. “We should make a move. We don’t want to be late.”

  Ajitah pushed back his chair. “Aria, are you all right to watch the boys?”

  She glanced over her shoulder and raised her brows.

  He held up his hands. “Sorry I asked.”

  I chuckled. Aria had become the boy’s unofficial babysitter during the past few weeks. Eamon said she thoroughly enjoyed it. I was still none the wiser about what Aria was exactly, but I knew she was the linchpin in this home. She held us together and allowed us to function effectively.

  She was kinda awesome.

  Toto trotted into the room and plopped down at Aria’s feet. She reached down to pet his head.

  “Dare I ask if you’re okay to watch Toto?”

  “Get out of here, the lot of you.” She shooed us out of the kitchen.

  “Malina?” Eamon called me back before I could follow the others out the door.

  Ajitah turned back, too, but I pressed a hand to his bicep, urging him on before focusing on Eamon. “What’s up?”

  He placed his mug on the table, his face grim. “I thought we were in agreement that you wouldn’t get involved with Ajitah?”

  So much for waiting a while before telling him. “We were, but I changed my mind.” I held up my hands. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep things professional while on the job.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not public displays of affection I’m concerned about.” He sighed. “Malina, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Ah, so this was a dad protecting his little girl. Thing was, I’d lost the opportunity to be his little girl a long time ago. His feelings mattered to me, but I couldn’t pretend to be someone I wasn’t.

  Keeping my tone even so I didn’t come across as argumentative, I locked gazes with him. “Look. I’m a grown woman, and I can take care of my love life. I appreciate your concern, I really do, but I can handle it.” I ended with a smile to soften my words. “I’ll see you later.”

  I left him sitting at the table, his lips pressed together as if holding back a tide of words.

 
; The Mayfair Coven owned the mansions overlooking Green Park in town. Huge white stone structures reared up from behind leafy green hedgerows and black iron gates with lethal spires. The most opulent residence was occupied by the high witch herself.

  As Drake drove our tatty-looking car up the gravel drive toward the entrance, I couldn’t help but admire the carefully maintained Edwardian façade with its multitude of smooth white pillars standing guard on either side of each tall window. It was as if the architect hadn’t been able to make up his mind—should he pop a smooth arch above the window or a point? In the end, he’d settled for both, giving the brick a layered appearance that was both off-putting and appealing.

  Drake drove past the main entrance and parked around the side of the house.

  We got out, boots crunching on gravel. I tipped my head back to allow the cool, fresh air to riffle through my tresses and stretched my legs. Eamon’s car did the job, but it was pretty cramped. I missed Garuda’s ride. I blocked the thought and made my way around the vehicle to stand by Ajitah. He slipped his hand into mine and squeezed gently.

  Drake joined us, his eyes going from our joined hands to our faces. “So . . . it’s like that, is it?”

  Ajitah grinned. “It’s like that.”

  I gently extricated my hand. I’d promised Eamon we’d be professional. “Not on the job it isn’t.”

  A frown crossed Ajitah’s brow. I’d talk to him about it later, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “This way.” Drake led us to the back where a set of double doors were pushed open to allow in the breeze. We were on the tail end of winter with spring waiting in the wings, and the days alternated between mild and a bone-numbing chill. Typical weather for the season. It was the reason so many people caught coughs and colds around this time of year.

  As we stepped over the threshold, I caught the scent of vanilla and fresh bread. It was a tantalizing combination, and my stomach grumbled, ready for a snack. I’d been expecting antique furniture and fancy chandeliers, but the inside of the mansion had been completely refurbished to be a chic modern space, all clean lines and minimal decor. The color scheme was warm autumn tones, and the scent of sandalwood vied with the bread and vanilla.

  Drake wandered farther into the room and stopped.

  “What now?”

  “We wait. They know we’re here.”

  “Who lives here, aside from your grandmother?” Ajitah asked.

  “My mother, my aunts, and a few other elder witches.”

  Okay, time to test my witchy knowledge. “Elder witches are the most powerful in any coven, right?”

  “Yeah, aside from the high witch.”

  “You didn’t mention any males,” Ajitah pointed out.

  Drake averted his gaze. “Yeah, well that’s because the Mayfair Coven is matriarchal. Females take precedence over the men. They kinda run everything. The males are never as powerful as the women.”

  I’d heard about this but never paid it much attention until now. “Is that why you were so eager to leave and forge your own path?”

  “That was part of it. My dad left a year before I did. Men seem to be more for procreation than anything else in this coven.”

  “But they’re the most powerful coven in London.”

  He nodded. “I guess they’re doing something right.”

  The click of heels alerted us to the arrival of our escort—a slender, pale-faced woman with muddy-brown hair and matching eyes. She was dressed unremarkably in a deep brown shift dress with a cream polo-neck sweater underneath. Her eyes took us in with disinterest but lit up when they fell on Drake. When she smiled, her face was transformed into something of utter beauty.

  “Drake.” She held out her arms, and he stepped into them.

  “Penelope, so good to see you.”

  “You’ve been missed.”

  “Really? By who?”

  She pulled back to look into his face. “Me, of course, silly.”

  He reached up to tug on a strand of her hair. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  “I’m apprenticing with Aunt Gilly.”

  Drake made an O with his lips.

  Penelope ducked her head. “Don’t look so surprised. Didn’t you think I had it in me?”

  Drake shook his head, recovering quickly. “Nah! I always knew you were elder material. I just didn’t think my mother would take an apprentice.”

  “Not an elder yet. I have a lot of work to do before I get to claim that title.”

  As lovely as the little reunion was, we were on a clock. “Is she ready for us?”

  Penelope tore her gaze from Drake, raking over me coolly. She dropped the smile and nodded curtly. “Follow me.”

  She led us through a high arch, across a vast entranceway, and through another arch into what appeared to be a ballroom. A woman sat at an easel, her back to us, as she ran a slender brush over the canvas with delicate, loving strokes. The painting, what I could see of it, was an abstract affair, all reds and oranges with sharp flashes of electric blue. The woman herself, what I could see of her, was broad-shouldered, silver-haired, and straight-backed.

  “Thank you, Penelope, you may leave us,” she said without interrupting her brush strokes.

  Penelope bowed. With a final glance in Drake’s direction, she exited via the arch.

  The high witch continued to paint for a few seconds more before wiping her brush and placing it carefully on the table beside her. Finally, she turned to face us, and I had to blink to mask my surprise at her youthful appearance. Her brows were dark, in stark contrast to her hair. They arched regally over piercing cobalt eyes.

  “Drake, my boy, how are you?” Her smile was polite and distant. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “I’m well, Grandmother,” Drake said stiffly.

  His whole demeanor had shifted, going from relaxed to tense in a matter of seconds. The high witch stood and glided soundlessly toward us. I noted her bare feet peeking out from beneath her flowing dark skirt.

  “When you left us, I was concerned, disappointed even. I had such high hopes for you, Drake. A good match within the coven, the chance to produce the next elder. But now I see I might have misjudged you, because here you are, able to aid us regardless of having flown the nest.”

  Drake’s throat bobbed. “Thank you, Grandmother.”

  “You must be wondering why I summoned you here today.”

  We knew the basics. “Missing witch bloods?”

  Her gaze was on me in a flash, eyes pinning me to the spot, piercingly assessing. “This is Eamon’s heir? You have a heavy responsibility awaiting you, child. I just hope you prove yourself worthy.”

  “Right now, it would really help if you told us how we could help you.” I kept my tone neutral and polite, not dumb enough to piss off a high witch.

  She inclined her head slightly. “Professional and to the point. I like it. Please, take a seat.”

  I raised my brows, because as far as I’d seen, there were no seats to take. But Drake was moving around me. A glance over my shoulder showed a neat arrangement of wicker chairs and a table laden with a tea tray and china cups. I joined the boys at the table.

  The high witch sat opposite us. With a flick of her wrist, the teapot rose and began to pour.

  “Help yourselves to milk and sugar,” she said.

  Drake did the honors for the three of us while the witch sat back and made a steeple of her fingers beneath her chin. “The first report came in almost six weeks ago. A young witch blood associated with the Piccadilly Coven had gone missing. We didn’t think too much about it at first. Young girls run away all the time, and witch bloods tend to be flighty anyway. But then, a week later, we got news of two more missing witch bloods. A Piccadilly elder witch’s great-granddaughter, also a witch blood, and her female ex-lover—a witch blood associated with our coven. Three missing witch bloods in the space of a week was too much of a coincidence, so I ordered an investigation.” She sighed. “What we have discovered has
convinced me that this is too big for us to handle in-house, which is why you are here.” She nodded at us.

  “Our investigations unearthed two more missing witch bloods, one with no direct association to any coven and one loosely connected to the Piccadilly Coven. Then there were several aberrations—witches born to human parents. Now, Drake, you are aware we do not interfere in mortal matters, and aberrations are not under our protection, but in this case, we are forced to make an exception because we believe they have been targeted for malicious reasons. We are all at risk until the person or persons who are responsible are apprehended.” A file appeared in her hand.

  “This is a list of all the witch bloods and aberrations we know to be missing. You’ll find addresses and photographs in the folder. You may wish to interview the human families, but tread lightly. It’s unlikely they’ll be aware of their offspring’s true nature. Those cases are marked red.” She handed the file to Drake. “We cannot appear rattled by this. You report directly to me. The Piccadilly Coven has ceded jurisdiction in this matter, and I will brief them as and when I see fit.”

  I sat forward, and her attention immediately snapped to me. I was a mouse in the sights of a deadly cobra. Tread carefully, Hayes. “Are we permitted to interview the witch blood families associated with the covens?”

  “Those families have already been interviewed. You’ll find the reports in the file. There is no need for you to go poking around the covens. In fact, I insist you keep your inquiries as discreet and possible. I want this dealt with expeditiously.”

  “Okay, I get you don’t want to cause panic, but subtlety may be an issue.” I glanced at Drake for support, but his attention was fixed on his teacup. Great, I was on my own. “We’re working on a case that may be linked to your missing witches, and the IEPEU also has it on their radar.”

  The high witch’s eyes narrowed, and the air was suddenly charged with electricity. Gooseflesh broke out on my arms, and the hair on the nape of my neck stood to attention.

  “No. I cannot have that. If the cases are indeed related, you will make me aware, and I will deal with the IEPEU personally.”