Magic After Dark: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels

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Magic After Dark: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 154

by Margo Bond Collins


  “Can’t be any worse than the rest of them.”

  “Oh, trust me, it is. And, if you know your artifacts like you claim, you’d know the Irizat Luna isn’t your first grade spell book.”

  “I don’t give a shit about the relic or her,” he tilted his head to Plamen, “or him, or your freaking dead wolf. I hunt down what I’m paid to find, obtain it, and hand it over.

  Anger took over. I grabbed the dagger from Plamen, blew out the flame, and pinned the heated tip under his chin. “And, you won’t have a chance to care after you give her the relic. You’ll be dead.”

  Echo

  After Traer admitted to hunting the exact thing we’d sworn our lives to protect, he became our prisoner. We didn’t exactly tie him up; we also weren’t in the business of kidnapping or keeping hostages. So, the only appropriate thing to do with him was keep him drunk with Cole’s stash of psychedelic poison until the new Protector arrived.

  We never let him get as sick as Cole had, but forcing someone to drink almost one hundred-proof alcohol to stay in a consistent, drunken state, took work, and a lot of coaxing. Which, by the way, I was not as good at as I had thought. Plamen, on the other hand, made it look easy. Being able to set things on fire was a gift I wish I had gotten. Falling asleep knowing we had the upper hand, and Traer wasn’t as sharp, pun intended, as he thought he was, I felt better about how to proceed in this so-called-game of protecting of the Irizat Luna.

  He passed out in the room Kem had stayed in around seven.

  I lay in bed and thought about what to do with Traer. As I tried to come up with a plan, my vision started to blur. My mind retreated into an unfamiliar place. There was a door I had just come through that led down a narrow hall. A man in a black jacket and jeans took my hand and guided me forward. He looked over his shoulder at me. Etched in his face was every bit of the hunger I felt. Before I could take another breath, he had spun and pinned me against the wall. Our clothed bodies collided in an unstoppable way. We crashed against each other in reckless motion. His dark hair fell against my brow. The fine hairs rising along my flesh made every cell come alive. His hands skimmed, then groped my flesh in a frenzied attack. I had no intention of stopping him.

  He spread open the collar of my button down shirt. His breath was hot against the bare flesh of my neck and chest. He pressed kisses over my shoulders and the tops of my breasts. I ached for his mouth to be on mine. His touch slowed and became more sensual as his mouth and tongue moved gently and teasingly up my throat. I leaned my head back against the wall in pure, agonizing pleasure. His hand slid down my side, around my hip, and to the front of my dress. Warm fingers grazed my thighs. Electric tingles spiraled downward to the core of my center. His other hand held a handful of my hair.

  I closed my eyes as his lips followed my jawline. His mouth was only a breath away from mine. I wanted to turn my head, but his grip on my hair was firm. I fought the urge to move against his lingering hand just below my stomach. Shreds of torture were finally peeled away when he painted a slick line over my bottom lip with his tongue. My breaths were shallow and hitched in my chest. His tongue edged its way into my mouth and he covered mine with his. The fire in my body detonated into a million flames; consumed by raw desire.

  What the hell was that? I thought as I came to and was back in my room.

  Shaken to my core, I reached for anything to cover my almost naked body. I had no idea what time it was, but it was still dark through the blinds. If I hadn’t been awake, I could have blamed the entire memory on being a nightmare.

  My body was feverish and sweating.

  It was more than just a glimpse into the future—it was a nightmare that would never fucking happen! If there was any part of my memory—or future—I could cut from my brain, it would be the impossible and so unlikely vision portraying Traer and me.

  I was physically hot all over my body, especially in places I haven’t been touched in a very long time. The moment I tried not to think how his lips and touch had felt in passing, made my thoughts go haywire; which were all about the enemy. My mind wandered, reluctantly, back to what my so-called gift had shown me.

  I needed to try to talk to Inerique. The instant I sent out my thought, she connected. I spat intelligent nonsense. “Please, I beg you, teach me how to control this vision psychic-gift-thing?” I could hardly breathe. I was probably still breathless from the vision.

  “Oh, my dear girl, magic does not work like that.”

  Even more frustration boiled up inside of me. “Why not? You know everything.”

  Her laugh was kind and light. “That couldn’t be farther from the truth. But, if I were gifted to see the future, I would tell you what you want to know.”

  I wanted to scream. And, I would have, if I wasn’t afraid of waking the others, especially the one the vision had included. I grabbed a handful of my dreads, playing and twisting the beads. Taking deep breaths, I tried to calm myself.

  “Do the Echo Ritual, and the magic will grow as you need it, and you will find a way to control the visions and find use for them.”

  If that was the case, the only use I’d found for them so far was getting off. He was the enemy for Christ’s sake! I had no idea what had gotten into me. My subconscious was playing hardball with me in a very unfair way.

  Cole had already made coffee and was sitting on the porch. I got a mug from the cupboard, poured a cup, and joined him.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Not like death anymore, if that’s what you mean.” He smiled and shook his head. “That Traer is bad news.”

  “That’s why he’s locked in Kem’s room.”

  Cole spat out the coffee. The breeze blew back the mist and I felt the remnants on my face. I used my sleeve to wipe it off. “Gross.”

  “Sorry.” He looked at me. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was. He’s not a deer hunter. Traer Sharp is a relic hunter. And, he’s here for the Irizat Luna.”

  Bitch

  Plamen and I were sparring in the front yard of the cabin when we heard rumbling coming from somewhere in the forest. The sun was on its way to the other side. Its orange and pink light coated the western sky. It seemed everything paused in the moment to wait and see what was causing the constant drone, which grew louder and louder.

  Cole stood up from the chair on the porch. “Someone’s coming.”

  Immediately, I thought someone was coming for Traer. He had to have told someone where he was going. He was passed out from his afternoon dose of alcohol. If he were on schedule, he would be waking up soon. Plamen slid his knife into its sheath. I kept mine in my hand in case I needed it.

  “Are you expecting anyone, Cole?” Plamen asked.

  “No.”

  “What about your crazy ex-girlfriend?”

  Cole chuckled. “God, I hope not.”

  The bonfire Plamen built blazed higher as the sound of tires crunched rocks and gravel from afar. I arched my shoulders back. My body was as rigid as a board. My back was hot from the fire behind me. Feather-like ashes floated around us like snowflakes.

  A faint beam of light shone down the path as a car approached us. A cloud of red dust bellowed behind the car when the driver hit the brakes. A red sports car came into view. It slowed to a stop in front of the cabin. The three of us were held at the ready for any danger. Something felt off, though. The person I had pictured would be in a black SUV, not prancing around in a flashy car. The headlights went dark. When the door opened, the cargo light lit, but the driver was still masked in the shadows. Plamen and I stood on the driver’s side while Cole stood on the passenger side.

  The sleek lines of the car were almost as sexy as the smooth dark leg extending out of the driver side. The spiked heel attached to it sank into the dirt.

  “Shit!” muttered a silky voice.

  The woman took her time exiting the car. She slung her Louie bag over her shoulder, and did her best to look dignified in heels walking in th
e dirt. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her face and over her shoulders. She had high cheekbones, blood red lips, long, curled lashes, and a body that could easily be in a centerfold. High, firm breasts jutted out as she walked toward me. Her eyes were glued to me.

  She held her hand out to me. “I’m Tsura, the new Protector.”

  Only out of respect for my position, I shook it. Her grip was firm and unwavering. A tight smile streaked through flawless skin like a scar. All of the loathing she felt for me was in that one simple gesture. I hadn’t had a woman Protector under me before. This should be interesting. If it weren’t for the shit happening now, I might have had more fun with the situation. This woman was a year older than me and had despised me since the day I came into existence. “I know,” was all I could say.

  Plamen stepped up behind me. Reaching out his hand to Tsura, he said, “I’m Plamen, it’s nice to meet you.”

  Tsura’s lips relaxed into a soft smile that was much prettier than the one she gave me. Full lips parted to reveal perfectly straight white teeth. “I know.”

  Whatever was transpiring before my eyes, I didn’t like it. “That’s Cole, this is his cabin.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.” She tilted her head and nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  So, apparently, I was the only one she wasn’t happy to meet. I didn’t care; I was the only one she had to obey. My head grew a little bit larger with that thought, as did my smile.

  “So, what do we do now?” she asked.

  “Get your bag, come in and make yourself comfortable. Take Kem’s—”

  “Wait, the guy who died?”

  I was on her like a cheetah. If I were into cannibalism, I would have torn off her face with my teeth. My voice dropped into the danger zone; mere seconds from losing it. In her heels, we were eye to eye. The lights from the porch glowed in her dark orbs. She narrowed her eyes, challenging me. Wrong move. I looked away from to her to sheath my knife on my hip. Locks of my hair fell over my face. I pushed them away as we locked eyes again. “Let’s get one thing clear, Kem wasn’t just a guy,” I let the word fall out of my mouth like I was trying to expel it permanently from my vocabulary. “His name was Kem, and he died in honor of the Irizat Luna.” She tried to step back but her heel slid deeper into the soft earth. “I won’t have you, as one of my Protectors, ever dismiss or disrespect him again. Do you understand?”

  Her voice wasn’t as silky and trimmed as it was when she arrived. “Yes, sir.”

  I gave her my back. “Get your shit. Your room is down the hall, last one on the right. And, Plamen, would you please wake Mr. Sharp and bring him into the kitchen?”

  Tonight was going to be very interesting. Tsura would be gifted by the Irizat Luna. And after, I would perform the Echo Ritual.

  “What is up with you and Tsura?” Plamen asked, when we were alone with Traer in the kitchen.

  “Nothing now.”

  “What was up with you and Tsura?”

  “We were in the same coven. Went to school together. Hated each other, her more than me, since the day we met. And, it only got worse when I was named the leader of the Protectors.” I shrugged.

  “So, basically, you both have no reason for hating each other.”

  For a brief second I thought about it. “Yeah... no.”

  “All that aside, will she be a good Protector?”

  Without hesitation, I said, “There’s no doubt. She’s one of the best—she’s just a complete high-maintenance-bitch.”

  Plamen scoffed. Re-focusing, he asked, “What’s her weapon?”

  I remembered training with her. I had a knife strapped to each hip, while Tsura had nothing. She used her bare hands for contact fighting, and in a small pouch she kept on her belt were disc-like silver spiraling blades. They weren’t always deadly, but they were painful, and if embedded in the right area, the enemy would bleed out. “She’s wicked with throwing stars.”

  Tsura came into the kitchen. “Am I interrupting?” She had changed out of her pencil skirt and tight sweater for jeans and a tank top. Which was equally eye-alluring as the former.

  “No,” Plamen said. He eyed her backside as she reached into the fridge to get a bottle of water.

  I nudged him in the side and gave him a harsh look. His eyes widened and he grimaced in question, like he had done nothing wrong. Which he really hadn’t. There were two things going on. One, it was me who didn’t like to see him looking at her ass. Not out of jealousy, but disdain that he thought she was worthy of his stare. Two, I had a hard time not looking at her ass.

  “Who’s that guy passed out on the couch?” she asked.

  “That would be the infamous relic hunter who’s after the Irizat Luna,” I said.

  She spun around. The fridge door was still open behind her. “Why do you have him captive, you should have killed him.”

  I hated to admit I liked her way of thinking, but he wasn’t the end of the line, Lajaria was. “He’s the small fish. Lajaria is the big one.”

  “She’s dead,” Tsura argued.

  “She’s a vampire,” I corrected. Tsura looked from me to Plamen, and back again. “Which is why we can’t kill him, we need to know where she is, so we can feed her to the dead for good.”

  “Can’t you drill the information out of him and then kill him?”

  Patience wasn’t one of the cards I was dealt in life. Huffing out an exaggerated breath, I left the kitchen in search of Cole. We had rituals to perform and I needed him to retrieve the relic. Bitch-Tsura had better be willing and ready. I was in no mood for any more of her arguing or suggestions.

  When I walked through the doorway to the den, the situation was more than bad. It could end with another death on my hands if I wasn’t careful. My already vibrating nerves sent shivers of dread throughout my entire body. Instinctively, my hand went to the hilt of my knife.

  Traer only cackled as he held a handgun to Cole’s head. “Don’t.” He was no more passed out or even hung-over than I was. His crystal eyes were clear and sharp as blades.

  I put my hand back to my side. It would only take a split second for me to grasp it and toss it through the air, but the distance the bullet would have to travel to reach Cole’s skull was shorter. “What now?”

  “What now?” he mocked. “I want the relic.”

  “Don’t give it to him,” Cole said in short breaths. His eyes searched for anything around the room that would help him out of the present situation.

  I’d rifled this room a thousand times over, and as usual, played a thousand different scenarios in my head of what could go wrong. None of which was the one I was in. My vision of Traer and me against the wall flashed in my head. It was only a memory, but I wanted to throw up. “There’s that small, insignificant word, ‘no’, I need to use right now.”

  “You have one minute to give it to me or I will shoot him.”

  I clasped my hands in front of me and scrunched up my face. “Then we’d all be fucked.” I shrugged. “Cole, the man who let you into his home in the middle of the storm, gave you shelter, food, a bed, is the only one who knows the code and has the key to the relic’s location.”

  Traer shoved the gun against Cole’s head. “Is that true?”

  “Does Jeta look like the type who would lie?”

  Traer looked at me. His lips spread into a thin, pissed off line and his eyes narrowed into angry slits. He addressed Cole again. “Where is the key and what is the code?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “What’s so goddamned funny?” Traer yelled.

  I hoped for two things, Plamen would hear the disturbing noise, because I did not have a high girly giggle, and I could buy us time until he did. “You have nothing on Indiana Jones. You know that, right?” He looked perplexed, trying to figure out why an actor had anything to do with him. Cole smiled in spite of having a gun to his head. “What would you do with the key and the code when you did get them?” He had no idea where the safe was. Fucking
with Traer in his own game was more than fun. It would be a complete blast if he didn’t have Cole at gunpoint.

  Traer didn’t have time to come up with a solution to that dilemma. He had moved a few inches to the right, angling his body for his thigh to be a perfect target for one of Tsura’s blades. It whizzed passed me through the air in a silver blur. Traer never saw it coming. He grabbed his leg. The gun fell out of his hand. A whoosh of air left Cole’s lungs as he grabbed the gun and held it aimed on Traer.

  “Bitch!” he yelled.

  I knelt in front of him. Blood oozed from his leg. “You’re right, she is a bitch. But, she’s a kick-ass bitch.” I shrugged one shoulder. “Who knows, there might be a difference, there might not.”

  Tsura reached around me and wrenched her star out of Traer’s leg. He wailed in pain. “There is,” she growled.

  I agreed, but I would never admit it to her. “Cole, can you please get the Irizat Luna? We have rituals to perform.”

  Rituals

  Rituals are delicate dances of blood and magic. The right amount of each, a drop here, a word there, and the prick of the Irizat Luna’s blade will gift the fortunate, or unfortunate, gypsy. The gift isn’t chosen, it unfolds and blossoms from the person’s magic they had all along. And, like all things, there are two sides. Magic is no different. There is white magic and there is black magic. That is why the Irizat Luna is so protected. If in the wrong hands, someone who possesses black intentions, the world would truly be in trouble. For their entire existence, the elders have ensured only those worthy of the gift of the Irizat Luna will receive it. Tsura has earned the elder’s blessing, guidance, and the gift of the Irizat Luna. She, like all the Protectors before her, has spent her entire life preparing for this moment.

  Cole tied Traer to a chair and wrapped his leg with a role of gauze. Traer was lucky I let Cole at least do that. Asshole still smirked; as if he still had the upper hand. I thought it would be wise to let Traer see the ritual. He needed to know what he was hunting for, for Lajaria could be dangerous if she got her hands on it. Plamen disagreed. Our rituals were rare and sacred moments. And, they were. But, I believed if Traer saw the effects of white magic, he’d realized how damaging black magic could be.

 

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