Ascension

by Felicity Heaton

  Her heart fluttered in her throat, driven to a wild beat by her passionate thoughts.

  Lealandra swallowed it back down. She was here on business, not because she needed a fix of Taig. She was over him now. Those first few months without him had been Hell but she had made it through.

  It was over.

  She faltered when her eyes met his black ones, their endless depths entrancing her and warming her right down to the marrow of her bones. A hot but empty feeling filled her chest and she resisted the temptation to touch the spot over her heart and rub it in the hope that the feeling would go away. It was pointless. She had never realised it before tonight, before seeing him again, but she had missed him and she had been lonely without him. A part of her had been missing. Her heart. Taig held it in his grasp, clutching it so tightly that it hurt, nails poised to puncture it. One wrong move and her heart would break all over again. It was a fool’s game to come to him and risk so much pain but he was the only one who could protect her now, and as much as she would hate herself for it, she might even stoop to pay the price he was asking.

  “I don’t know why,” she confessed with a nonchalant shrug that drew a quirked eyebrow from him. It was redundant to try to cover the desire that crept through her whenever she looked at him but she had to keep a lid on her emotions so he wouldn’t see how vulnerable she was and take advantage. She had to at least try to get him to take her offer of payment and not insist on his.

  Taig reached across to the full shot glass beside the one he had emptied not minutes ago. His eyes closed when he tilted his head back and swallowed the golden liquid. The glide of his Adam’s apple made her swallow along with him. Her tongue pressed against her teeth, eager to trace patterns on his neck and to feel him biting her throat so hard he would leave a mark.

  This wasn’t going well.

  One midnight-black eye opened and slid to her. The corner of his deliciously curved lips tugged into a smile. She cursed his demonic senses and how flustered he was getting her. This wasn’t about sex. This was about her life. The quicker her libido got the message, the better. Still the thoughts of their naked bodies entwined and writhing filled her mind. They were impossible to shut out. Just being near him had been bringing everything back. When she had kissed him to disguise herself from the men, it had opened the floodgates of pent up desire and need, and left her aching for his touch.

  “They killed Charlie to weaken you.”

  Those six words sent fear into her heart, each an icy spear that froze her to her soul. She hadn’t considered that they had meant to kill Charlie too.

  “I thought they’d messed up and got the wrong person. It was dark in the apartment and the shot that killed him came through the window. They could only have seen our silhouettes where we were sitting on the couch.” Her hands shook for a different reason. Panic erased any desire to touch Taig. Was he right? Charlie had been far less powerful than she was and the coven had chosen him as her Counter-Balance for that reason. He had been perfect for the job. His magic had craved the strength of hers. It had absorbed some of her power, making it easier for her to keep control. Without him, she was in danger of her magic consuming her. It was building inside her, growing stronger with every passing second. Soon it would push for control and, if that happened, it would force her to seek out what it wanted most. She shuddered.

  Lealandra had seen witches turn. Her own mother had lost herself to her magic. If her father hadn’t been so powerful, none of them would have survived. Who would bring her back if the magic took control? No one at the coven was strong enough. Not even Gregori, the New York City coven’s leader. If the magic seized her, it would take all of them to join forces in order to save her.

  Her eyes wandered to Taig. Would he help her? Could he help her? She studied his handsome face, watching the flickers of his thoughts cross his pitch-black eyes. He was as beautiful as she remembered—the kind of gorgeous that could win him any girl he wanted, even her if he tried hard and turned on the charm. She wasn’t strong enough to hold out against him forever. Something would give and it was likely to be her heart. He rubbed a thumb down the line of his defined jaw and then paused, his expression turning pensive.

  “The curtains were closed?” he said and she found herself savouring the sound of his deep voice. She had never forgotten how he sounded, with his mixed accent, not quite American but not quite another unknown country either, or some of the things he had husked in her ear during making love with her.

  Lealandra nodded. “They’re thin enough to see through when all the lights are on, but we only had the table lamp lit. They could have only seen our heads above the couch back. When they shot Charlie his—”

  The memory of seeing her partner’s head blown wide open stole her voice. Her throat closed and she struggled to breathe, clinging to the last shred of calm inside her. There had been so much blood. It had covered the apartment. It had covered her. One second Charlie had been there, the next she had been sitting beside a corpse, still talking as though nothing had happened. It had taken almost a full minute for her senses to fall into order and make her realise that he was dead.

  Taig’s large hand covered hers and she jumped and looked up at him through her lashes. The concern in his eyes made the tears in hers tremble on the brink of falling. She placed her other hand over his, completing the tangle, and closed her eyes. Focusing on their hands, she unleashed a fraction of her magic, giving it more rein but still keeping it under tight control, and drew strength from him. His power seeped into her hands and crept up her arms until it suffused her entire body, sending a heady rush through her.

  “You’re hungry,” Taig murmured in a voice laden with sensuality.

  No denial left her lips. Right now, she was more than hungry. Kissing him had been a mistake. It had given her a taste and made her remember how things had been, and how he had made her feel. Her magic had latched onto those memories and it didn’t want to let go. She held his hand tighter and stole everything that she could from him in an effort to calm herself and restore the balance of power inside her. Taig had once provided her with a substitute before she had found her balance in Charlie.

  His own power.

  His blood.

  “It’ll cost you extra,” Taig said and she realised she was staring at the scars on his forearm.

  She took her hands away from his, unwilling to pay the price he was asking for his help, let alone the price he would place on his blood now. What he had once given to her freely would now cost her everything. He would make her pay dearly for it just to spite her, and part of her couldn’t blame him for doing such a thing. She could understand why he would think that she deserved such punishment.

  He gently brushed her long dark hair behind her ear, his touch comforting and speaking volumes, telling her that the desire she felt wasn’t one-sided. He was still attracted to her.

  “He didn’t look after you properly.”

  Lealandra didn’t have an answer to that accusation. Charlie had neglected her need for sustenance through blood. He had thought he had been doing the right thing, when in reality it had been nothing short of torture.

  “He said I didn’t need it,” she said in a small voice and then straightened and found her strength. She didn’t want Taig to see her weak. It had been her decision to leave him and go with Charlie and the coven. She had to accept that and the things that had happened. She had to take responsibility and stick to her decision, even when she now felt it had been a terrible mistake. “You know he didn’t believe in that kind of thing. None at the coven do.”

  Taig laughed and toyed with the two empty shot glasses. “He was more of a fool than I thought.”

  His laughter died in an instant when his eyes locked with hers. Their fathomless black depths sparkled with intensity. Her breath shortened and her palms sweated with anticipation. She subconsciously leaned forwards, eager to be close to him, desiring to feel his hands on her again and have him continue to look at her with s
uch need and hunger.

  “I should never have let him take you.” His expression darkened with his frown, his lips compressing into a thin line that conveyed the anger flowing from him and through her.

  Lealandra got the better of herself and picked up her own shot of whisky and downed it. The fire as it slipped down into her stomach did nothing to dampen her desire or boost her courage.

  “You didn’t have a choice.” She leaned back into the seat with a false smile that covered her fear and her feelings.

  He shifted forward and stared into the far reaches of her soul. His eyes lightened. The black melted to reveal a red inferno that flickered and licked around the wide chasm of his pupils. She drew a deep steadying breath, refusing to let him fluster her.

  “Believe me,” Taig said on a sneer, “if I’d decided not to let him take you, he wouldn’t have. He would’ve died a lot sooner.”

  That was no idle threat. A sweep of pin-pricks chased across her back and down her arms, and a wave of fury swept over her, so intense that her magic retreated, bowing to Taig’s superior force of nature. As powerful as she was, she was no match for him when he was angry.

  Taig rarely let his demonic side come out to play and she had only witnessed the gruesome aftermath when he had, but it had given her a glimpse of the devastation of which he was capable.

  Lealandra didn’t need to see the true form he held locked beneath his skin for her to know that any decision he made was final and he was willing to resort to bloodshed to ensure that.

  It was half the reason she had come to him.

  The other half?

  Lealandra looked down at her chest and the intricate mark between her breasts visible only to her. A circle within a circle about the size of her palm. Runic symbols filled the two black bands around the outside. Within the central circle were a series of patterns that marked her fate and the role specific things had to play in it. A little off centre within this circle was a mark she recognised. Her gaze drifted to Taig’s shoulder. Hidden beneath his black shirt on his left shoulder blade was the same mark. It wasn’t a tattoo. It was a brand of his demonic bloodline. A birthmark.

  “So... you lost your partner and now some demons are out to kill you but you won’t pay the price for protection. You’ve got to have a pretty good reason for hunting me down if you’d already made up your mind to refuse my fee.” The cocky smirk was back, tugging at the dusky lips that knew her intimately, every inch of her.

  Finger-length strands of his black hair criss-crossed his forehead, messy and seemingly out of control as always. The feel of the short back had been like silk beneath her fingers, bringing forth memories of raking her fingers through it, of clutching it tightly to keep his mouth fused with hers. His dark eyes narrowed on hers and his smile widened. Her heart thumped in her throat at that look—all hunger and need. He hadn’t changed a bit since she had last seen him. Still so handsome that he would never have a problem catching a girl with his otherworldly masculine beauty but still a loner who refused the company women offered him. Still a negotiator gunning for the right price before he would do anything but still itching for a fight so badly he would gladly hunt demons for sheer fun.

  “I think I’d like to know that reason now.”

  Before she had come out tonight, she had vowed to keep this hidden from him but now it might just be her trump card.

  Taking hold of his hand, Lealandra ignored his raised eyebrow and moved towards him on the curved leather seat so she was within reach. She took a deep breath, held it and brushed his fingers across her chest. The mark there shimmered rich red and sparkled into life. The glow lit his face, dancing in his wide eyes.

  “You’ve started the ascension,” Taig whispered with the barest glance into her eyes before his gaze fell to her chest again.

  His hand left hers and he touched the ascension mark, tracing the circle with a light caress. Her breasts tingled and her nipples hardened against the black strapless corset top. She tried to ignore the delicious feel of his hands on her but it was impossible. It was Heaven to have him touching her again, even if it was only so he could see her mark.

  His fingers paused against her, cool points on her burning skin.

  Lealandra knew what had arrested his attention. “It’s your mark.”

  Taig lowered his hand until his palm rested against her right breast, the weight of it making her ache for more as her mind raced forwards to imagine him removing her top and caressing her. She rolled her eyes closed at the thought of his lips latching onto one of her nipples and tugging on it, teasing it with his teeth. Her groin throbbed in response to the fantasy.

  “And this is supposed to make me help you?” Emotionless and deadpan. His response was the exact opposite of what she had expected.

  “In a few days, possibly less, I’ll be vulnerable, Taig. I need you to protect me. I’ll pay you with money, everything I have. It’s over twenty grand.” Her eyes searched his for any sign that he would take it. He had to help her.

  The mark on her chest meant that he was going to play a role in her ascension. Without him, she might not make it through. It was rare for a witch to go through the ascension, a process in which their power matured and reached its maximum level, and even rarer for one to survive. Normally the power became too strong and seized control of its host, eventually destroying it. Lealandra didn’t want to die, not during the ascension, and not before it, and she knew that she would if Taig didn’t help her.

  “You know my price.” Taig’s flat expression gave her the distinct impression he wasn’t about to change it any time soon.

  “Your price is too high.” Part of her again said that it wasn’t. She would do it, even if the ascension weren’t a factor.

  Six years without him had been hollow and hellish, living day-to-day, stuck in the coven and doing nothing but learning or practicing. Not once had she needed to fight. It had been dull, empty, and she had grown so used to it that she had never realised. Not until now. She had missed him. Her time with Taig had been thrilling, and not just because of their passion. They had hunted together and the danger had been exciting, the battles of life and death exhilarating, adding to the way it had felt to be with him. She wanted that back. She wanted him back.

  Taig caught hold of her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. His lips never left her as he kissed up her bare arm, drawing her towards him at the same time. Strands of his hair tickled her skin, a precursor to each kiss. Her eyelids fell to half-mast when he reached her shoulder and then his mouth was on her neck, feeding the fantasy unravelling in her heart and mind. Her breath left her on a sigh and she leaned her cheek against his, lost in the feel of his cool mouth devouring her throat in the most sensual of caresses. He bit lightly. She moaned and then got the better of herself and shoved him away.

  “Too high.”

  “You’re hungry,” Taig whispered with another smirk, a knowing look in his eyes. He dropped his gaze to his wrist and hers followed against her will. She swallowed when he idly ran his fingers over the scars on his arm. “Protection and a taste. That’s my offer. What’s yours?”

  Damn him back to Hell.

  Lealandra flicked her long hair back and glared at him. The bastard was leaving her little choice and it tore her up inside as her heart waged war against her mind.

  It would be so easy for her to give in to her desire. The only thing stopping her was that she knew deep inside he was doing this, demanding this price, because he wanted to make her pay for leaving him, not because he really wanted her back. She had broken her heart once already. She couldn’t survive breaking it again.

  Her grey gaze met his black and she narrowed her eyes on him. Power rose and spiralled through her, filling every inch of her body, awakened by the thought of his blood. Damn him. There was only one way to get out of the corner he had backed her into and buy herself the time to convince him to accept her method of payment instead. She loathed herself for giving in to him even when it was only te
mporary and pushed the word out through clenched teeth.

  “Fine.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Taig grinned and leaned forwards, his hands coming up to claim his payment. Lealandra’s single raised finger stopped him in his tracks.

  “Protection first. You’ll get your payment when you’ve done your job.”

  He glared and clenched his fists. Anger raced through his veins at her denial, burning deep and fast in his blood, and Lealandra seemed to respond to it. Crimson tinted her eyes. He could feel the magic rising inside her. Every time she looked at his arm or he mentioned blood, her power spiked. Charlie was lucky he was dead. If he had been alive, Taig would have been heading out to find him and bash some sense into his thick head. He was a bastard for the number he had done on Lealandra by denying her what she needed to keep control and keep strong, and a son of a bitch for taking her away from him in the first place.

  Taig reeled in his fury and forced himself to relax.

  “Deal,” he said, too enticed by the thought of her being his again to care about the technicalities.

  Lealandra had said it herself. It was a matter of days before she would go through the ascension. He had the scent of those demons now. He could kill them before she went through the change and see her safe. She had told him about the ascension several times, each time giving away a little more, until she had said enough for him to see that it frightened her. She feared dying during the ascension. Many paid with their life for their increase in power, even when their entire coven helped them. Her magic would become too strong for her to control. She needed her Counter-Balance, but someone had removed Charlie from the equation, plunging her into dangerous territory, making her desperate enough to turn to him for help.