Hidden Powers

by Tara Lain

Jazz grabbed his arm. “Let’s go.”

  They exited through the gigantagarage, which was crammed with some superlit electric vehicles and an amazing motorcycle, plus the limos and more regular cars. Outside the back door was a huge flagstone patio with a swimming pool beyond it, and past that was the closest thing to the “park” of a European manor house Dash had ever seen attached to an American home. Towering trees with gravel paths spread out in front of him. He squinted. “Is that a polo field?”

  “Yep. I told you, Lindsey’s a serious competitor. I’m not half-bad myself.” Jazz grinned.

  Jazz glanced at him as they walked toward the tree line that defined the woods at the side of the more cultivated park. “Sorry about the grilling in there. They just think we’re too cute.”

  “Yeah.” Dash smiled at Jazz. “But then, I think you’re pretty cute too.” The heat of Jazz’s gaze warmed him, but he went on. “So let’s figure out what we want—”

  Before he could get the words out, Jazz grabbed him and swooped Dash into a powerful hug, then pressed his lips onto Dash’s mouth. For a second, self-protective instincts rose, then got swamped in the best kind of fervor. Dash wrapped his arms around Jazz’s neck and kissed back. Man, if he’d ever harbored a secret desire for hot, sexy, and feral in his lovemaking, he’d found the source. Jazz was wolfy to the max, and it was just what Dash’s usually cool and controlled nature needed to let go. And holy shit, did he ever want to let go.

  But before his little head ruled the day, Jazz pulled back with a grin. “Just wanted to thank you for the nice compliment.”

  Dash adjusted his suddenly too-tight jeans. “Remind me to start praising everything you do.”

  Jazz snorted. “With pleasure.” He took Dash’s hand and walked into the forest. Amid the tightly packed trees, heavy canopy, and dense undergrowth, he looked right at home. Dash not so much. He glanced around uneasily. Is it just the wildness of the place that bothers me, city boy that I am? His nerves tingled.

  Jazz let go of Dash’s hand and leaned back against a tree trunk. Dash hadn’t been kidding about the cute part. The boy was seriously adorable—all lanky, shaggy, and oh so powerful.

  “So, what can you teach me?” Jazz asked.

  Dash plopped down on a patch of grass. “You already know invisibility”—he held up fingers as he went—“as well as how to freeze someone and how to lift things with your intention, right?”

  Jazz scrunched his face but nodded. “I also made some people disappear one time, but I don’t know how I did it.” He shrugged. “Of course, I’m not sure how I do any of it.”

  “Who is? It’s not about knowing how, it’s just knowing you can.”

  “What if somebody comes after me?” He frowned.

  “Somebody already did. You drank the Kool-Aid.”

  Jazz sighed. “Yeah. I did. But I knew the drink at the restaurant wasn’t drugged or poisoned. Too bad I couldn’t sense that it was… what? Magicked?”

  “Bespelled.”

  “Great! How can I guard against that?” He sounded so frustrated.

  “You only used the senses you’re used to. Your wolf powers. I’d guess that drink was beyond wolfiness, and chances are, the person who bespelled it knew that.”

  “How would I know? You’d have been able to tell, right?” He stalked back and forth in front of a tree.

  “Probably, but maybe not. Magic’s like technology. There’s always something new.”

  “Don’t tell me that!” He threw his arms over his head. “I don’t even know the old stuff yet.”

  Dash pointed at the ground in front of him. “Sit.”

  “But—”

  “Sit.”

  Jazz sighed and folded his long legs into a cross-legged posture on the ground. “Okay.”

  “You know how your magic happens. It’s all the same force. You focus it with intention.”

  “I do?” His golden eyes got even bigger. “Are you sure I know?”

  “Of course.” He smiled. “Think about it.”

  Jazz huffed a breath and closed his eyes. “Heat in the chest.”

  “Yes, absolutely. It’s like an engine.”

  “How do I rev it?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Uh, emotion? Anytime I’ve done magic, I’ve been scared or angry.”

  “Really?”

  Jazz cocked his head. “Well, maybe not every time. That first time I saw somebody, like a glowing shape, at the pack meeting, I wasn’t upset. Not much, anyway.”

  Dash frowned. “You never told me you saw this person.”

  “I didn’t know what it was. It scared me so much, I passed out. Gods, talk about embarrassing.” He ran both hands through his shaggy, gold-streaked hair.

  “You might have seen the mage who’s hounding you.”

  Jazz’s gaze snapped up, and he glanced over his shoulder.

  Dash stared around as nervous prickles tiptoed along all his nerves. “That’s how invisible magicians look to those with command of invisibility. Like a nearly formless, glowing shape.”

  “But in Orwell’s office, I saw you like you were here. With form.”

  “Right, because you were invisible too.”

  “What do you mean command of invisibility? Can’t all mages turn invisible?”

  “No. Different wizards have different degrees of magic. Just like werewolves, I guess.”

  Jazz wiped a hand over his face. “Okay, so magic doesn’t need emotion.”

  “Right. It needs intention. When you don’t know how to use magic, it seems like it’s emotion because strong feelings make you centered, and if you’re magic, the power follows the focus.”

  “Whew. A lot to get.”

  “Not really. Focus the mind on the intention, gather the power in the chest, then shoot it to the object of the focus with an intended outcome.”

  “Shoot?”

  Dash scooted back until he was leaning against a tree trunk. “That’s the way I think of it. The sudden movement of focus from the chest to wherever you want it to act. You might want to think of it as a shift.”

  Jazz barked, “Ha!” Then he looked left and right uneasily and adjusted his butt. “So what if somebody comes after me and I want to fight him off? Keep him from taking me again? What would I do?”

  “Running’s first choice. You don’t want to battle with a master mage if you can avoid it.”

  “Oh great.” Jazz slowly fell backward onto the grass.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  JAZZ STARED up at the leaves on the trees in the darkness above him. Of course he could see them perfectly with his werewolf eyes. But is there something here I can’t see? He turned his head and stared into the dense undergrowth. I’m gun-shy. He’d been feeling watched for days and days. Creep city. Gotta learn while I can.

  He sat up and stared at Dash, who looked pretty casual although he did glance around him every couple of minutes. “You okay?”

  “I’m not really a forest person.”

  Jazz chuckled. “Okay, so let’s say that dude I saw at the pack meeting shows up in the flesh and decides he’s gonna kidnap me, but say I’m awake this time and not inclined to fall for his crap again. What would he do?”

  “Probably blast power at you that’s strong enough to knock you out but not kill you.”

  “Phasers on stun?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So how does that work? Show me.”

  “I can’t. Lys would be all over me like dog fleas. You can do it on your own, though. Go on. Try.”

  “How do I start?” He clambered to his feet and danced a little like a prizefighter.

  “How do you think?”

  Jazz stopped bouncing and closed his eyes, focusing in the center of his chest. “Okay, little bonfire in the chest.”

  “Right.”

  He let the heat build and tried to keep his mind focused instead of wandering off to the next step. “Ouch.” The fire got pretty hot. Okay, move on. So I want the power i
n my hands. His eyes popped open. “Will this look like Harry Potter’s wand shooting blasts of light?”

  “That’s as good an image as any.”

  “Okay.” He closed his eyes again and built the blaze quickly. Dash had said to “shoot” the power to the place he wanted it. He clenched his teeth, thought of lassoing the heat in his chest, then flipped it down his arm to his hand.

  Nothing happened. His hands felt about the same. Cool and… boring. Try again. Scrunching up his face, he tried to “think” the heat to his hand. Then imagined firing it from a canon. Nada. Well damn. He pinched the bridge of his nose, tightened his jaw, and—

  “Uh, Jazz.”

  “Yeah?” He opened his eyes.

  “Remember what I told you about the reasons somebody can do magic?”

  Jazz thought for a minute. “Because they know they can?”

  “Right. Magic is about relaxation, not force. Can you force yourself to become a werewolf?”

  “No.”

  “Right. It’s probably similar. You just know you can and then you surrender to it, or something like that, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Same deal here.”

  “Okay.” He did his prizefighter dance again, then shook himself like a canine. So, need to relax. He thought about how he shifted at will. It was like opening a door that he usually kept closed. Just that simple. It hurt like hell, but otherwise, easy peasy.

  He opened a door in his chest—mentally, of course. Heat poured in. He raised a hand and “saw” the rivulets of fire running in waves toward his fingers. Hmm, the shooting thing. How do I do that?

  He formed his hand into a finger gun and shot. A little flash of slightly limp-dick fire spurted from his finger. “Whoa.”

  Dash laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that, Clint.”

  “Hey, it was a step.”

  Dash wrapped his arms around his knees. “Yeah, it was. Try again.”

  Jazz tried three more times, once getting nothing and twice managing a small stream of fiery light. Not much, but the streams sizzled in the damp grass. “Could it hurt someone?” Jazz asked.

  “Well, you’d have to reach them first, but yes. It takes practice, not only to create the stream of power, but also to control and modulate it.”

  Jazz flopped onto the grass and shook his head. “I think this is like trying to learn to ride a bike when you’re an adult. I’m too old. I should have been learning this shit when I was three.”

  Dash shook his head hard. “Not true. Few mages come into their power until they’re full grown. You’re already way beyond where most wizards are at eighteen. You were only behind because you didn’t know magic was a thing. Now you do.”

  Jazz propped his chin on his bent knees and stared at Dash. “Most eighteen-year-old wizards don’t have Supreme Leader Snoke after them.”

  Dash scrunched up his face. Pretty adorable. “We don’t exactly know he’s after you. Or who ‘he’ is for sure.”

  “Right. I’m sure he bespelled my drink and sent his goons after me for fun.”

  “There is that.” Dash sighed. “Maybe you should consider staying out of harm’s way for a while. Forget the internship and stay home. I doubt he can reach you with a pack of alpha werewolves around you. Meanwhile, we can identify who he is and try to determine what he wants.” Dash glanced around and seemed to shiver.

  “That pack of alpha werewolves you mentioned have very human jobs and responsibilities. They can’t be guarding me for some indefinite period of time. Plus, I have to go to school in the fall, so I can’t stay hidden forever.” Jazz slowly stood. “No, I’ve got to protect myself somehow.” He gathered all the desperation in his system, balled it up, and flung it from his fingertips in a huge blinding bolt of light that smashed into the trunk of a tree, leaving a huge black smoldering scar. “Holy crap! Did I do that?”

  “Yep.” Dash smiled.

  Jazz walked over and patted the tree. “Sorry.”

  “You understand the principal, Jazz. Now it’s just a matter of getting to Carnegie Hall.”

  “Practice.”

  “Right.”

  Jazz crossed back over and sat cross-legged in front of Dash. “As long as Nardo, or whoever he is, gives me time.”

  Dash put a long-fingered hand on Jazz’s knee. It wasn’t exactly comforting since Jazz’s bouncy parts got bouncier. Jazz cocked his head. “Do something for me,” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Let me see what you look like.”

  Dash frowned then smoothed it out. “You pretty much already know.”

  “Yeah? Well, can I go the last inch?”

  Dash laughed. “Okay. It’s hard for me to release control, but I’ll try.” He took a deep breath, and as Jazz stared, his features shifted ever so slightly.

  Wow. Just wow. Dash went from near perfect to just plain amazing. It was hard to even describe the change. His luminous eyes became a little deeper, more emerald, and seemed to see farther; his porcelain skin reflected even more light; the midnight hair almost sparkled; and his full lips got… well, thinking about them was confusing. Jazz could imagine all the places he’d like to feel those lips, but they were so perfect, ripe, and delicate, it would be almost sacrilegious. He’d never wanted to describe something as dew-kissed before. He mouthed the words, “Ho-ly crap.”

  Just that fast, as if he’d snapped his fingers, the changes vanished. If Jazz didn’t know better, he’d think he made the whole thing up. “Is changing the way you look one of your powers?”

  “Yes. We call it Adonic power.”

  “Adonic as in Adon—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Dash waved a hand, and Jazz laughed.

  “Oh poor baby.” He sighed. “I guess I better get back before my brothers get worried.”

  Dash took both his hands. “You don’t think we looked cute enough for them to give us more time?” He smiled, but it had sadness in it.

  “They don’t know we’re doing anything besides making out, so they probably figure with eighteen-year-old hormones, we won’t last longer than an hour or two.”

  They both chuckled, but Jazz glanced up and met that emerald gaze. Pounce! He leaped forward from sitting to push Dash to the ground. Landing on top of him, he squirmed until all their parts fit together like a perfect jigsaw.

  He got a very nice moan for his trouble. Bull’s-eye. With that incentive, he thrust his hips forward. Dash gasped and pushed back. Oh yeah. Jazz tried it again and again, until they’d set up a rhythm, riding each other’s erections through their jeans while locking gazes.

  Sweet gods, it felt so good. More than that, Dash’s response was amazing. Usually so cool and reserved, the guy under Jazz was some other Dash, moaning and writhing like the love god he was. Jazz stared at that exquisite face, eyes squeezed shut, perfect lips parted as he climbed higher and closer to the sun.

  Whoa! Suddenly, Jazz realized he was right there with Dash, thrusting harder, gasping, his wolf prowling up his spine on hot, clawed paws. Shee-it! Jazz rode Dash hard and put him away wet. Very wet.

  Dash yelled. His control of his physical body seemed to slip, and he began to glow like the moon as he cried out, “Oh goddess, yes, like that, yes!” Then he froze and trembled, his head thrown back as his mouth opened and soft, lilting cries poured out.

  Too much. Jazz’s wolf grabbed him by the back of the neck and shook him like a piece of tinder until his whole body went up in flames. “Holy craaaap.”

  For a second, the whole forest seemed to light up like daytime; then the darkness wrapped around them, soft as a blanket. Jazz released the weight he held on his arms and pressed down into Dash. It was one of the few times he was glad he didn’t weigh more.

  Their hearts slammed together through their sweaters, and they both gasped for breath. As Jazz’s brain returned to normal, he felt the glowing joy that spread through every cell. Unfortunately, that was accompanied by a very sticky situation in his crotch. Yuk.

  D
ash’s breathing turned to hiccups, then to laughter. “Bet you’re really gonna be happy to hear that magic can clean two pair of jeans.”

  Jazz wasn’t even ashamed to giggle.

  It took another fifteen minutes to get themselves together, clean the jeans, kiss a few more times, and then persuade their southern parts that it wasn’t time for round two.

  Jazz held Dash close. He’d always wondered if there was a chance he could have sex with someone who wasn’t a wolf. While they’d stopped short of full-on sex, he still knew the answer. As long as he was in charge, his wolf felt content and nurturing. True, he wasn’t exactly winning prizes for being starry-eyed and tender, but he could do it. Of course, maybe his wolf knew Dash could turn him into a hamster, and that backed him off. But man, being with Dash was lit, and he never wanted it to end.

  Oh damn. That idea stopped him. They were eighteen, with totally different lives and futures laid out in front of them. Lysandra had to have big plans for Dash, and no matter what Jazz decided to do in his future, it probably didn’t have much to do with being a mage. He was an alpha werewolf and a Vanessen. Hell, those were plenty of choices for one guy.

  The thought made his insides feel hollow.

  He pressed his cheek against Dash’s forehead.

  “You okay?” Dash asked.

  Jazz pulled back and nodded. “Yeah. Just a lot going on.”

  “Way true.” He did his uneasy glance again. “I think we’ve done this forest. For now, anyway.”

  They linked hands and walked back to the estate, but despite his glow, ants of weirdness crawled up Jazz’s spine. He kept wanting to look back over his shoulder, but he knew he wouldn’t see anything.

  At the garage, they paused. “I won’t bother your family. Please tell your mom I said thank you for having me,” Dash said.

  “I will. We’ll do it again soon.” Jazz leaned in and touched his lips to Dash’s, then lingered because some part of him didn’t want to let go. “Maybe we can get together this weekend?”

  Dash nodded. “Probably with Carla too.”

  “Yeah.” He loved seeing his BF, but now that his and Dash’s relationship had taken a turn, the idea of some more alone time sounded real good. “We’ll see how it turns out.”