Lealandra moved out of the booth, smoothing down the back of her long black skirt. The mark on her chest was no longer visible but he knew it wasn’t gone. A witch’s ascension mark was visible only to the carrier unless someone directly touched it. Fuck, it had felt good to lay his hands on her and he couldn’t help thinking up excuses to touch her again.
“My place or yours?” he said with a sly grin, his hunger returning as he imagined laying her out on his bed naked and begging. He had always loved it when she had begged. The sight of her writhing on his dark covers, her slender legs rubbing together, fingers twirling the silken threads of her black hair around them as she waited for him was one of his favourite memories of her, seared on his mind for eternity.
“Yours.” Her response caught him off guard and the smile dropped from his face. It had been a joke.
“Shouldn’t you be heading to the coven?” Taig stood, a frown knitting his black eyebrows. It was strange for her to stay away from other witches. When her ascension hit, he wouldn’t have a clue how to help her. She needed others like her around her. She needed to live.
Taig could deal with the demons and anyone else who wanted her dead, but he wasn’t sure what he could do to help her survive her ascension. He glanced at his scarred wrists. Could his blood give her enough control over her power? How much would she need? He had given her blood in the past but usually he was out of his mind with lust and desire and he wasn’t thinking straight. The thought of giving her blood turned his stomach. It was tainted. He didn’t want that inside her. He didn’t want it inside him.
“We are… but we’re not staying. I just want to get my things and then go to your place.”
Taig stared at her, studying the subtle changes in her expression and her body that gave away her fear. Why didn’t she want to stay at the coven? She had been with them for six years and she needed her kin right now. His frown intensified. Unless she had a reason not to remain with her coven. She had come to him and now wanted to go and get her things. It was all backwards. Only it wasn’t if she hadn’t been staying at the coven since Charlie’s death. That would make sense. She must have been staying somewhere else and, now that he had agreed to help her, she was going back to her apartment at the coven for her things. This was all messed up. Lealandra was powerful enough to handle herself and anyone at the coven. Why did she need him to go with her? A show of force to anyone who might be involved in this plot against her? Did she suspect the coven?
“You should stay with the coven.” He tested his theory.
“No.” Her flat tone made it clear that was the only answer he was going to get. She cast a quick glance around the dark bar. The few regulars that remained weren’t likely to be out to get her. He knew them well and knew where they lived. They wouldn’t dare hurt her. Her grey gaze skipped back to him. He didn’t like the edge of fear that lingered in it. That wasn’t his Lea. Someone had her running scared and he was going to beat the crap out of them for it. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Taig nodded and followed her towards the exit, his thoughts still lingering on the fact that she was keeping away from her kin. A niggling voice at the back of his mind said that she didn’t trust them. Did she think they had something to do with the demons that were out to kill her? Surviving the ascension was rare but the increase in the power of the ascended placed them above others, making it often the subject of envy among witches. Envious enough to kill?
It troubled him.
If the local coven were responsible, then he was going to have to be on his guard. Demons he could handle, but witches had a tendency to fight dirty and nothing drained his strength like the right spell or five.
Lealandra led the way out of the backstreet bar. The flickering blue neon sign reflected in the lingering puddles in the cracked asphalt. The city still smelt like rain from this morning’s storm, laced with an underlying trace of blood. Taig’s gaze shifted to Lealandra again. He had never tasted her but she had taken his blood enough times for him to know her on the inside. Demon blood ran in his veins, stained him. It filled his mind with lust for violence and his heart with darkness. His blood had mixed with Lealandra’s each time she had taken it into her, mingling with her power for a short spell, giving him insight into her innermost thoughts and feelings. Connecting them. A witch and a demon.
Taig clenched his fists until his short nails bit into his palms. A demon? Not quite. The progeny of both his father and mother. An aberration. Not belonging to this world or the underworld. One foot in each but no place in either. And no chance of finding that place. He deserved to stand alone and live between worlds. He didn’t deserve what Lealandra had given him all those years ago.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
His gaze snapped to Lealandra.
Warmth touched her eyes and the smile curving her soft lips pierced his heart and took him back six years. She had always looked at him like that. Open and accepting. With love.
Taig turned away and stared ahead. “I’d like to check out your place while we’re at the coven.”
Lealandra could probably sense the lie in those words but he wasn’t about to let his guard slip and let her know his true thoughts.
He took hold of her hand. It was warm in his and trembled enough that he felt it. His thumb closed over the backs of her fingers and he kept the pressure against them gentle enough that she would know he wasn’t after something. This touch wasn’t about him wanting her. This was about letting her know that whatever she was afraid of, she didn’t have to fear it anymore. He wasn’t about to let anything happen to her. He only wished that she had come to him sooner.
Surprisingly, she didn’t take her hand away. She stared up into his eyes, their difference in height noticeable now that they were standing. He stood at least six inches taller even though she was wearing heeled boots and he liked it. Something flickered in her eyes and he felt it trip down her spine and through him. A memory that made her warm and stopped her shaking. Her eyes fell to his chest and she blinked languidly. Was she thinking the same thing as he was? He used to love the feel of her in his arms, her head resting lightly against his chest, her heat seeping into him and her heart fluttering against his ribs.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he husked and her stormy gaze rose to meet his. A hint of colour touched her cheeks and then she looked down and stepped away, taking her hand with her.
“We should get moving.” She turned her back on him and walked down the narrow alley between the bar and the rundown apartment block next door.
They were both shitty liars.
Taig followed, gaze raking down Lealandra’s back, taking all of her in. He didn’t like how thin she was now. She had always been slim enough. Now she looked fragile. Breakable. Or was it this new side to her that made her appear that way? He hadn’t seen her frightened before, not to this extent, and for some reason it rattled him.
And it made him want to protect her.
She was his after all.
He hadn’t let her go forever.
He had only given Charlie temporary custody. He had expected Lealandra to buckle years ago and had been waiting for her return. Only, he hadn’t realised that until tonight. Seeing her again had brought his feelings back along with that night. He never should have let her go. They belonged together.
An urge to stalk up behind her, pull her into his arms and kiss her so hard that she knew that tore through him. He tamped it down, telling himself that this wasn’t the time to let his possessive streak take hold, no matter how alluring the thought of kissing her again was. The slide of her tongue against his, the feel of their lips barely touching, made him burn with need so fierce that it was difficult to control himself. It had been hard enough back in the bar. Out here, there was nothing stopping him from backing her up against the alley wall and showing her just what she did to him, and just what he wanted to do to her.
Lealandra turned and looked at him, a small frown creasing her brow. He was lagging behi
nd but that wasn’t the only reason she was giving him dirty looks. She had long been able to sense when someone was watching her, and when they were watching as closely as he was, she could probably feel every intent that was crossing their mind.
She reached the end of the alley and stepped up to a plain black sedan. It was nothing fancy but it was clearly standard coven issue. It didn’t fit either. If Lealandra had left the coven and had waited to get him on her side before returning for her things, why did she still have the car? It was probably fitted with a tracking device. The coven would know exactly where she was at all times.
Lealandra paused, one hand on the car’s roof and the other holding the driver’s door open. She leaned against the roof and smiled at him, a warm one that burned itself on his cold heart. He hated those smiles. They made him want to be human so he could believe the feelings behind them were real. But he wasn’t, and they weren’t.
“I’m not stupid enough to let anyone track me… if that’s what you’re really thinking in there.” She tapped the roof and her smile widened. “I had a guy I know take out the tracker and I haven’t parked it anywhere near where I’m staying in case there’s another less obvious one onboard.”
Taig didn’t pay attention to anything she said after mentioning another man. She could have come to him to have him check her car over but she had gone to see this guy instead. His jaw ticked and he ground his teeth. Had he been her last resort? That cut him deeper than he cared to admit.
“What?” Lealandra stepped back from the car, as though she was going to round it to him.
He yanked the passenger side door open so hard that the hinges creaked. She gave him a black look. She was lucky he hadn’t torn the fucking thing off. Clenching his fists, he reined in his anger and glared at her, returning her dark look one hundred times over. Her eyes lightened and searched his. She could look all she wanted but he wasn’t letting her in.
They stood there for long minutes, neither willing to back down, eyes locked in silent combat. He refused to give an inch. Always did in this kind of situation. Lealandra had tried countless times to get a grip on his feelings like this and every time she failed. Tonight would be no different.
With an exasperated sigh, she slammed the driver’s door.
“What is it?” she snapped and then her tone softened. “Seriously.”
How many others had she gone to before trying him? Had she tried every hunter in the city? She probably had countless reasons to be pissed off at him but it still annoyed the hell out of him that she wouldn’t come to him when she was in danger. Whatever had happened in their past, he would always be there for her when she needed him, and right now she needed him, not anyone else.
“Taig.” She reached across the car’s roof to him. Her arm brushed away the fine layer of summer dust to reveal a streak of glossy black paint. She flexed her fingers, a silent order for him to take her hand.
As if he was dumb enough to do that. If he did that, she had more chance of reading his feelings.
Her hand shifted again, a soft rolling motion of her fingertips.
Against his better judgement, he placed his hand into hers and felt her power flow to meet his, felt the warmth of it as it crept up his arm. She wasn’t the only one who liked how it felt when they touched.
“How long ago did Charlie die?”
Her fingers tensed against his. She hadn’t expected that question. Did she think he was going to open up to her over the roof of her sedan in the grotty underworld of this heartless city? Not a chance in Hell. Who knew what people were listening in?
He had a reputation to maintain as the best hunter out there and she had a lesson to learn.
He wasn’t the sharing kind.
Even if he had been, she had lost that privilege a long time ago.
She took her hand back and dusted her arm down, taking her time over it.
“Three weeks.” Without another look at him, she got into the car.
Taig slid into the passenger seat and stared at the black plastic dashboard. Three weeks. Enough time for her to see most of the hunters in the city. None of them would take on a job this risky though. Only he was stupid enough to go up against the kind of power that could be after her.
And only because it was after her.
If it had been anyone else, he would have told them to skip town, hide and pray to whatever they believed in that they survived. Not Lealandra though. He wouldn’t do that to her. Couldn’t.
“You left the coven right away?” he said.
Lealandra put the car into drive and pulled out onto the quiet road, shaking her head. “No. I stayed there the first week and then I started to get the feeling that I wasn’t safe. Things happened.”
“Things?” Taig turned and studied her profile as she drove. Her fine dark eyebrows met briefly and then she relaxed back into the seat. Except she didn’t feel relaxed. She felt more on edge now than she had done back in the bar and the alley.
Was the prospect of returning to the coven the sole reason she was suddenly so tense, or did the fact she was alone in a car with him have anything to do with it?
Waves of emotion flowed from her, tension mixing with fear, anxiety, hope and despair. He wanted to know the source of those feelings. Was any of it about him?
“Gregori and the two supreme mages wanted me to remain at the coven while they investigated what had happened. I wanted to get away. Shortly after I mentioned that I wanted to leave, someone broke into my apartment and painted… something… on the wall above my bed.” Her pause told him what she couldn’t. Whatever they had scrawled across her wall, it had been a threat and it had upset her enough that she had fled.
“Were you out?”
A small shake of her head.
“Fuck.” He slammed his fist against the dashboard, leaving a crater in the black plastic. The car screeched to a halt and they both lurched forwards and then slammed back into their seats.
“Jesus, Taig! Are you trying to give me a heart attack on top of everything else?”
Taig grinned his apology but it faded when he saw her. She sat with her hands wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel that her knuckles were white and her eyes were so wide that he could see all of her irises. Thin dark red ribbons of magic wound around her hands and the steering wheel, joining them. He reached over and the magic shifted course, mirroring his actions and reaching for him. He brought his hand to hers and the red ribbons flowed around his fingers, tickling his skin with their warmth and then seeping into him.
“Sorry,” he muttered and looked at her. She stared at their hands.
A horn blared behind them.
Lealandra jumped and the magic sparked in response, sending a strong jolt up his arm that left it tingling. He took his hand back and rubbed his arm, hating how weak it suddenly felt. A potent reminder not to mess with her power. She could drain him and leave him feeling as weak as a kitten if she felt like it. His strength returned to his arm as Lealandra started to drive again, muttering dark things under her breath.
He shouldn’t have frightened her like that. She was already on edge without him helping but the thought that someone had broken into her apartment and written on the wall above her bed while she had been sleeping in it and vulnerable twisted his gut with anger. He felt Lealandra look at him.
“There’s no need to look like that. I’m still alive. It was just a warning.”
To look like what? As though he wanted to kill someone? As though he was planning their slow painful death right that minute? How else was he supposed to look when someone had threatened her?
Taig flipped the visor in front of him down and stared at his reflection in the small rectangular mirror. Red eyes glared back at him, bright and flickering like flames in the darkness of the night.
Yeah, he wanted to kill them. He wanted to rip them to shreds for frightening her. And for threatening her? Well, he hadn’t come up with a punishment severe enough just yet but he was working on it.
>
His eyes gradually melted back to black and he flipped the sun visor up. He listened to the sounds of her driving as he mulled over everything that she had told him. The steady tick of the indicators punctuated the constant drone of the engine. The sound of it was soothing, strange background music when combined with Lealandra’s soft breathing and the quiet whoosh of cars as they passed by on the opposite side of the road.
Taig pressed his knuckles against his lips and frowned at the dent in the dashboard. Who in Hell was after her and why? There were too many possibilities at this stage and he couldn’t discount the witches. There were bound to be people at the coven who were willing to climb the ranks by doing away with those above them. But just because the attacks had taken place at the coven, didn’t mean it was an insider. He could easily slip in and out, quick enough to leave a message on her wall and disappear before someone noticed, even her. Things like that were simple for demons. But why the message? She had been asleep, giving them a golden opportunity to kill her.
Or was that too easy for whoever was behind this? There was no honour in killing someone while they slept. Whoever was after Lealandra had principles, rules they lived by, and that made him uneasy. The two thugs back at the bar hadn’t looked like the type who would have qualms about killing a woman in her sleep.
Someone was using them to do their dirty work.
Lealandra moved out of the corner of his eye and his attention shifted to her. She pushed her long straight black hair behind her ears and frowned at the road. Taig glanced there, checking their location in the city, and then back at her. They were getting close to the coven now. It was on the other side of the river in Queens. The area was nicer than the one they had just left but both neighbourhoods were dangerous, especially at night. Humans thought that they were safe but they didn’t know any better. They didn’t live in the real world where demon wars raged and witches struggled to rule.
Witches like Lealandra.
Her eyes briefly met his and then she stared ahead again. Her legs shifted as she slowed down at traffic lights and his gaze fell there. The thin black skirt did nothing to hide the slender shape of her thighs or the apex of them. The material moulded to their lithe shape, sparking his imagination into life. He remembered her body intimately, could feel the ghost of her legs around his waist as he lost himself in the memory of their six months together.
Ascension Page 3
