Twist (Mageri Series: Book 2)

by Dannika Dark

  “I work independently. And before you lay your judgment on me, each and every one of them had it coming.”

  “Do I have it coming?”

  There was no denying the raw power behind his gaze as the fire smoldered in the reflection of his irises. My answer was silence.

  Chapter 14

  Minutes stretched into hours. I nodded off against the wall, and when I awoke, I was lying beside the fire. It was quiet, and the embers were dim as if lulling the room asleep.

  Logan was sprawled out on his stomach with his face buried in the crook of his arm. He was a very tall man with an athletic build. I was curious about the unusual markings I saw glimpses of, and whether it covered is entire body. His skin glowed with vitality and it made me look at my own arms thinking I could use a bottle of lotion. All of his body hair was baby fine, and light in color.

  He was a creature to admire, but only when he was asleep. It wasn’t just his sheer size that intimidated me, but the cocksure way in which he carried himself.

  I took a step towards the exit when a voice shattered the silence.

  “I have no desire to fish you out of a hole. If you break something this time, I will not come get you.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh and kicked up a cloud of dust. “Why the hell are you keeping me here? Kill me. Eat me. I don’t care. Just get it over with!”

  He brushed the dirt away from his arms and sat up. “Eat you? What do you think I am?”

  I glared at his question. “Walks like a duck, quacks like a duck.”

  “My, my, my. Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Tell me Mage, what happened to your Creator?”

  “Don’t make assumptions. You don’t know anything about me.”

  A wall of silence descended. I walked around the fire staring into the inky depths of the cavern. My past haunted me at odd moments. I thought about the human life unlived, and the life that almost was, if Adam had never freed me from my maker. I shivered, blowing a warm breath across my white knuckles.

  “That was very rude of me, and I apologize.”

  “I think you enjoy manipulating people. How confident are you that all of your victims deserved what they got? Is that why I’m here? You think that you can uncover some dirty secret that will justify your reason to kill me so you’ll have a clean conscience? Good for you for being God’s little broom, cleaning up all the evils of the world. If that helps you sleep at night, then the next time you pull the covers up to your chin, I want you to know how noble your debt was to the Mage who hired you. I owe him nothing. The first time I met him he broke my hands to steal my light.”

  My heart seized when a shrill sound brightened the room. A scream poured from my lungs and I backed into the wall, electrified with fear. It was involuntary, as if something primal took control of my body.

  The cause of that reaction was a deafening roar that filled every space of the cavern, reverberating off the walls. Logan was crouched on one knee, grinding his fists into the dirt. Hair hung wildly over his face, and faded patterns erupted across his torso.

  I wound myself tight against the curve of the rock, keeping my eyes low. I moved a fraction when he lunged forward and slammed his hands on the wall, caging me in. Justus always said my mouth would get me in trouble one of these days.

  Obsidian eyes stared at me with no familiarity. Rapid breath heated my cheek and I couldn’t think straight. If I lifted my hands to throw my power into him, how fast could he sink those teeth into my neck?

  He was so close to my neck.

  “I’m sorry,” I began. “I was only—”

  I sucked in a sharp breath when he rubbed his cheek against mine… nuzzling. I forgot how to breathe. I knew it involved pulling in air and pushing it out, but the mechanics of it were lost. Logan’s skin was warm, and his lashes tickled my face. The man before me was not Logan, but a feral creature that could not be reasoned with.

  What I couldn’t explain was why the closer he got to me, the less I feared him.

  ***

  Logan stormed out of the cave. He suggested that if I went tunnel exploring, to “watch my step”. It sounded more like a warning. Through the dark exit, there were too many directions and sharp ledges, and I had a thing about heights.

  I scattered a handful of sand on the floor between my legs, wondering how long this temporary infatuation with me would last. Logan Cross was no better than Samil, holding me hostage until his price was met. Maybe his price was nothing more than clearing his debt, but I had no respect for a man without honor.

  The sound of footsteps interrupted my thoughts.

  Logan ducked beneath the low ceiling entrance, looking refreshed. Those tacky green hospital pants were history, replaced with loose fitting jeans. The top two buttons of his black shirt were undone, and he wore the same white sneakers, which were now green around the rims from the moss on the forest bed. Several plastic sacks were set at my feet, and Logan sat down in front of me Indian style.

  Three boxes containing noodles and rice appeared. He tore the top covers off, placing the meals side by side.

  “Everyone likes Chinese,” he said.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  He wadded up a plastic sack and leaned forward. “You’re eating this food, and that is not up for debate.”

  “You can’t make me.”

  When the corner of his mouth curved into a smile, I decided to choose my battles wisely.

  It was a feast of crispy egg rolls, beef and peppers, orange chicken, broccoli, vegetables, and pork. There was no his. There was no mine.

  Chinese sugar donuts poured out of a sack when he ripped the bag in half. Logan folded his fingers and waited.

  I speared into the pork and he lifted a pair of wooden chopsticks, letting a tangle of noodles slide down his throat. It could have been just an ordinary lunch between two old friends.

  “Is Silver your real name?” he asked. “It’s unusual.”

  “My human name was Zoë. Silver is the name I was given by my Creator.”

  “Silly thing the Mage have with the names—pretentious and unnecessary.”

  “Were you born a Chitah, or made one?” I asked, changing the topic.

  “You can only be born into our kind.”

  “There must be a lot of you.”

  He chewed slowly, considering the question. “Not all of our young are Chitah.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Logan shrugged. “We have both human and Chitah DNA. Each child born is either one or the other.” He tilted his head back and took another bite.

  “So you can have human parents with children that are like you?”

  “No, that would create all kinds of havoc in the human gene pool,” he said with a mouthful. A noodle slipped from the chopstick and fell on his lap. He didn’t think twice about flicking it back in his mouth. “Both parents must be a Chitah in order to produce a Chitah, no exceptions.”

  “What happens to the human children? What kind of life do they get?”

  “They are given up for adoption to the humans.”

  I dropped my fork, disgusted by the idea. This hit a little close to home because of my father’s absence in my life.

  “Why would you give your own children away?”

  “A parent loves their child enough to protect them, making whatever sacrifices are necessary. Humans are fragile; would you feel easy about raising them among Breed? Not to mention they are prone to disease, and they will wither and die before your eyes. They’re better off with their own kind.”

  He was right. I couldn’t imagine protecting a helpless human baby from all of the dangers of our world when I could barely protect myself. The egg roll became suddenly bland and I tossed it back in the box. Logan reached for it and stuffed the entire thing into his mouth, cooties be damned.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “Four brothers, all Chitah. One human sister,” he said proudly.

  “Four? Wow, that’s a l
ot. Have you met your sister?”

  He paused and looked wistfully at the beef. “I held her when she was an infant, but we have never met. Tell me about your siblings.”

  “I don’t have any brothers or sisters. My best friend is the closest I have to a sister. Simon keeps me company, and Adam—”

  “Lover?”

  His question felt intrusive and I had no desire to open up my life to a nosy Chitah.

  “That would be my personal business, now wouldn’t it?”

  Logan licked his lips and poured some soy sauce on the rice, unaffected by my response. “Don’t be so quick to close a door that you yourself opened. I don’t see you holding back with getting personal.”

  “Do you live in this cave, or just come here to explore your Neanderthal ways?”

  “I wouldn’t mind living here all the time. I’m a man who needs very little in life. But, I do have a condo.”

  “What do you do for a living? Never mind.” My stupid question already had an answer. I forgot myself because Logan had a way of speaking which put me at ease. It was as if he had an internal switch that went between ruthless killer and normal guy. I had to remind myself they were one in the same.

  He pointed his chopsticks at me. “Funny you mention that. I am… in-between jobs. If you hear of any openings, be sure to let me know.”

  I turned my mouth and set the fork down, wiping my fingers on a paper napkin.

  “I’m serious. I’m beginning to think it’s a dead end job.”

  “Enough,” I said, raising my hand. Under normal circumstances, I might have laughed, but I struggled with appreciating his dark humor about kills when I was still his captive.

  His cheeks puffed when he took a breath. “I know you’re not mad at me, little raven.” He licked sauce from his thumb. “I can scent it.”

  “Maybe you just smell the broccoli.”

  “Then I’ll be sure to order that off the menu next time, as I’ve never been so aroused by vegetables.”

  My cheeks heated. His fervent gaze and candid remarks were only trying to provoke a response out of me. If he kept it up, I might be the first person in history to take out a Chitah with a plastic spoon.

  I closed my eyes and thought of Simon—wondering how much he heard over the phone. That’s when a giant light bulb flashed over my head. I often forgot myself as a Mage, not remembering that I could go to the Grey Veil to call to Justus and let them know I was safe.

  Something gritty touched my lips and my eyes snapped open.

  “I’ve watched you staring at this donut,” he said, with an outstretched arm. “Are you going to eat it, or make love to it with those fetching eyes?”

  Logan hovered over the food, balancing on the knuckles of his left hand. The muscles in his arms were taut, and even as close as we were, I couldn’t look him directly in the eye. I wanted to throw my power at him, but all I could hear in the back of my head was Simon’s voice, warning me to choose my opportunities wisely. He would say, “There’s a difference between fighting a man who’s pointing a gun at you, and fighting with a gun against your head.”

  He tracked every shift of my body, slide of my foot, and direction of my gaze. Justus watched me in the training room in a similar manner, as did Simon when we played a game. Logan was a man who anticipated moves, and our proximity offered little comfort.

  “Eat from my hand, little bird.”

  When I reached for it, he pulled back. “From my hand,” he demanded.

  I narrowed my eyes and dove for the donuts, when he blocked my move and grabbed them. There he stood—holding a donut in one hand and the bag in the other in a game of keep away.

  “You are ridiculous!” I shouted.

  He strolled across the room with a smug expression and sat down, dropping the bag between his legs. The donut disappeared down his throat and he wiped his hand across his chest.

  “Sure you don’t want one? Mmm, tasty.”

  “I don’t want anything between your legs,” I snapped.

  I could have sworn color flared in his cheeks. He chewed the donut, watching me with irritated eyes. Lifting a second one, he dramatically waved it beneath his nose.

  “While you’re busy having foreplay with a pastry, I’m going to crash for a while.”

  “You just woke up,” he said in a flat voice.

  “Your broccoli gave me a stomachache.”

  Logan drew in a deep breath and licked his lips.

  I turned my back to him and tucked an arm beneath my head, slipping into the Grey Veil.

  Chapter 15

  I called out to Simon a second time, leaping from the black rock nestled against a sparkling river. The Grey Veil was a realm that existed between dream and reality. Justus created his own private place because of a gift. When it came to gifts—some magic I would never understand. According to Justus, a Mage could only enter if they shared his light, and he showed them the way. Simon and I partially binded, therefore I was able to call to him. The more time that elapsed between light sharing, the harder it was to call to the other. Perhaps that’s why he periodically snapped me with his light, sharing small enough increments to keep the connection open. I chose Simon because I was afraid to face Justus.

  I always wondered about Simon. He was a private man when it came to his gifts. As a strategist, he was never one to show his cards. Simon either held a royal flush, or a bluff.

  He appeared from the trees and approached, touching my face with his hands. “Where are you?”

  “I’m being held in a cave, if you can believe that.”

  “We thought the worst. How are you unharmed?” he asked, looking me over. “We know a Chitah took you, and bloody hell, your room reeks of it.”

  “The Mage, he was taking me to them and, they tried to—”

  “Slow down,” he said. “Take a breath.”

  I did as he said. There was no time for details. “He killed a Mage, Simon. Two of them.”

  “Where would he take you?” Simon asked himself.

  “I forgot to bring a map.” I met his worried glance, noticing his face was unshaven. Not a very becoming look for Simon; it was patchy and looked like a boyish attempt at a beard. “The next razor’s on me.”

  “I’m delighted to see you can manage a sense of humor at a time like this.”

  I gave an elegant shrug. “Did you know that we could pull energy from a Chitah to heal? Justus tells me things that I shouldn’t do, but he never tells me why.”

  His jaw unhinged. If it was one thing I loved about Simon, it was his flair for the dramatic.

  “You let a Chitah lay a hand on you?”

  “Must I have this discussion with a man wearing a ponytail?” I sighed. “I thought the benefactor would have forgotten about me.”

  “He knows you’re a Unique, that’s why Justus has kept you so guarded these months, whether you realize it or not. I would have not expected him to send a Chitah.”

  “I think I can reason with him.”

  “You cannot reason with a Chitah.” Simon took hold of my shoulders. “Unless he has given you his word that he will not harm you, do not trust him. Keep your distance; they can kill a Mage. Do you understand me?” Light pulsed in his eyes.

  “I understand you perfectly, Mage,” a voice interrupted. “Now remove your hands from the female, or I will rip out your throat.”

  My blood ran cold. Logan stood as an exquisite threat; his predatory eyes glued to Simon like an unwanted inevitability. They judged him from the scuff on his boots to the wave in his hair.

  “You are not invited here, dreamwalker. This is the Mage realm.”

  “Sorry, I seem to have missed the ‘no trespassing’ sign. Would you mind pointing it out? I do not require an invitation, Mage. My only limitation is that I cannot physically tear you apart in this place. If you want to test that theory, then touch her again. The female is mine.”

  “She is in your custody, but Silver is not yours.”

  “Her Ghuardian
does an inadequate job protecting his own.” Logan strolled to the edge of the water with a steady eye on us. “It was foolish of him to leave her unattended when a Mage is hunting her. She couldn’t be safer than with a Chitah. Do you not agree, Simon the strategist?” His brow winked up on the last word.

  “You know me?”

  “You’ve made a lot of enemies. Your reputation precedes you like a red carpet.”

  Simon’s lips disappeared into thin lines. With folded arms, he paced in a circle. “I don’t bloody well believe this. Release her and you will be compensated. We will top his price or… be in your debt.” Simon wasn’t happy about the offer, and frankly neither was I.

  “Not enough,” Logan said, lifting his chin. “I want full involvement in locating this Mage. Let’s just say it’s personal.”

  I could see all kinds of profanities marked above Simon’s head in a thought bubble, but he stared at Logan with pressed lips. “Agreed.”

  “Is this a job offer?” Logan perked up, running his fingers along the collar of his shirt. “I’m in the midst of a career change. You might be surprised at the type of information a man like me has.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” Simon muttered. “I’m not an unemployment service. Return her to us and we’ll come to an arrangement.”

  Logan dropped his chin and stepped forward. I put my body between them, but Simon kicked up some dirt and cursed at me to move.

  A rolling chuckle shook from Logan’s chest. “Jiminy. Your kind never ceases to amuse me.”

  “Let us form an alliance and we will make you a fair trade.” Simon held up a hand in good faith.

  “I cannot scent if you are truthful here but know this: if you deceive me and fall through on our bargain, I will hunt you down. Cross me, and I will not forget.”

  Simon nodded once in a silent agreement between men.

  “Come,” Logan said, cupping his finger at me.

  Simon was about to protest, but I touched his arm. “Simon, I’ll see you soon.”

  I took Logan’s hand and walked into the light.

  ***