Twist (Mageri Series: Book 2)

by Dannika Dark

  Logan shifted to fourth gear—steering with his knee—and folded a stick of gum in his mouth with his free hand. It was late afternoon and the sun battled the brooding dark clouds, which spilled occasional showers of light on the windshield as we drove towards it. This was my favorite time of the day because the world hung in a delicate balance between light and dark.

  “What can a dreamwalker do?” I asked.

  “Some of us jump into dreams. We can’t do it with everyone and I’m not sure why,” he said, popping his gum. “If I could control minds or even the subject matter of the dream…”

  “Then you would be a pervert.”

  A loud snap of gum showed his annoyance.

  Logan had a unique way of speaking. It was smooth and masculine, but his sentences often trailed off in a deep rumble. He occasionally used old-fashioned phrases, which made me curious of his true age.

  “Do me a favor, Mr. Cross, and stay out of my dreams.”

  The tires crunched over the remaining dead leaves of winter as we rolled up the path leading to the house. Not twenty-four hours ago this man was about to deliver me to my worst nightmare. Now, he was tag teaming with Simon.

  “Question?”

  He downshifted and looked at me. “Ask me whatever you want.”

  “Is there any offer that you wouldn’t take?”

  He lifted the visor and pulled the aviator sunglasses from his face. “Perhaps one day, I’ll find out.”

  The car jerked to a stop, right along with my heart. Justus stood on the edge of the path with his arms folded, pushing out his biceps like a man trying to throw around his macho.

  “You are afraid?”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I mumbled, rubbing my face. “I just want a shower and a nap, but I can already see he’s upset with me.”

  “Remain in the car,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Ignoring me, Logan exited the vehicle and approached Justus with a confidence that couldn’t be matched. I always thought Justus had swagger, but next to Logan, it was a tough call. Logan towered over him and even their body types were dramatically different. I wondered if the two of them battled it out—who would win.

  I waited for Justus to wield his unholy light on Logan, but nothing happened as they spoke. Hiding in the car was a bit childish, so I made my way over to the circle, rolling up the sleeves of my sweater. I was relieved to be home, but ashamed of the error in judgment I made. Live and learn.

  Justus took three hard steps until he loomed over me.

  “Were you treated well? Don’t lie to me.”

  Logan swept his hair out of his face. “Easy there, hoss. No need to snap your cap.”

  Justus scraped him from top to bottom with his gaze. “You are the Chitah?”

  Logan’s incisors descended to answer with absolute certainty. “The one and only.”

  Chapter 16

  It was a relief to walk in and find the room tidy, with no corpses strewn about the floor, spatters of blood, or broken furniture. Instead, all three men behaved like civilized creatures in the main room of Justus’s house. I left them alone to take a hot shower, and I used half the bottle of coconut body wash because of Logan’s scent, which made Simon scrunch his nose. I could have stayed in there forever, but I was starting to wrinkle.

  Lately, my life was either no drama, or an overdose of it. I was a woman living in a new world with old beliefs, concealing a powerful gift, but the kidnapping was beginning to wear thin. I was no one’s object to possess.

  Logan’s voice rumbled from the shadows at Simon, who was staring at his cell phone. “The number doesn’t come up,” he said. “He takes extra measures to hide himself. If you punch the redial it will call, but he doesn’t pick up unless he’s expecting it.”

  Tightening the string on my sweats, I looked at Simon. “Did you try my homemade cake?”

  I drifted to the brown rug before the fireplace and dropped to my knees. The soft, glowing embers warmed my back.

  “None of us had an appetite, love. We tossed them out.”

  “What a shame,” Logan mumbled. “The enchiladas were the bomb.”

  I smiled at the unexpected compliment.

  “Is Sunny coming back?”

  “She’s already here,” Justus said in a tired voice. Their eyes were showing telltale signs of fatigue. “Your friend is staying with Novis for lack of a more suitable place. I do not like involving Novis in our personal affairs. Babysitting your human companion is an embarrassing request.”

  Justus scolded me with every word.

  “She could have stayed here.”

  “To serve as a distraction when you need to remain focused.”

  “It wasn’t my idea to board her with a Council member,” I said pointedly.

  “Be that as it may…”

  “Mind your tone, Mage.”

  Logan emerged from the darkness. His stride was slow and purposeful. All eyes watched as he claimed a position to my right, clasping his hands together. A faint smell cloaked him like a warning, and my hairs stood on end.

  “Chitah do not tolerate disrespect to a female.”

  To which I raised my brow.

  Justus spread his arms along the back of the sofa. “Humor me, Chitah; wasn’t it you who ripped Silver away from the safety of her home with the intention of trading her off? In my book, kidnapping a woman against her will and terrorizing her qualifies in the genre of disrespect. Not really the Chitah way, is it?”

  The temperature in the room kicked up a few degrees, and Justus shredded him apart with those icy blue eyes.

  “I did not terrorize the female. I kept her warm and fed her, which is more than I can say you do in this icebox you call a house. Secondly, you are her Ghuardian, which is far more important than a stranger, don’t you agree? Each time you disrespect Silver, you’re setting the example that this is how a male should treat her. You have an obligation to any female who lives under your roof. We never do that to our own kind; a female will be raised in our house to know that they deserve a male of worth, no less.”

  Hoping to defuse the Justus bomb, I caught Simon’s attention. “Where’s Knox? Is he still over at Novis’s, or did he go back to… uh—”

  “Planet steroid?”

  I snorted. I didn’t really know where Knox was from. “If you keep calling him names, I’m going to tell him. Where is he staying?”

  Simon clattered his fingers on the laptop keys, smacking away at his bubble gum. “With me, for obvious reasons. Spare room in my flat and let me tell you…” He paused to finish typing. “That bloke is a real collector’s item. Of course, now that I know he gets his jollies from the daffodil you so thoughtfully brought here—”

  “Wait, what… jollies? Simon, revert to American English, please. I hate it when you have one of your spells.”

  “Your friend and Gigantor are an item.”

  “Good for her.” I sure didn’t see that one coming.

  “Suffice it to say she will be having no more sleepovers, not after they broke my favorite plate. I think I’m mentally scarred for life after my kitchen counter was desecrated,” he mumbled.

  I grimaced. “Remind me not to eat over; we’re ordering take out.”

  “For at least a month, until I properly sterilize—”

  “Say no more,” I said, waving a hand. We shared a private sniffle of disgust. Poor Simon, he loved preparing food on his counter. His perception of a good seduction involved a foreplay of cuisine.

  “Silver, do you remember anything specific you haven’t told us about Samil’s benefactor during his visits?”

  “No, let’s change the subject.”

  “It could help,” Simon urged.

  I wasn’t convinced. “Like what?”

  “Clothes, slang, jewelry, scars, or tattoos—maybe there’s something in the details we lost. Sometimes it only takes one thing.”

  “Didn’t you find any

thing when you searched Samil’s house?”

  “No, the search was unproductive,” Justus said, his voice heavy with disappointment.

  “He wore glasses, the kind with the gold, round frames. He dressed in suits and they were expensive, like yours,” I said, nodding at Justus. “I don’t remember any tattoos or scars.” I scanned the ceiling, replaying the events in my head.

  “His hair was dusty brown, trimmed short to his head and kind of thin. He was always chewing on a toothpick.”

  I thought of that dirty thing when it rolled over my chest as he slammed my hands into the hard concrete. The memory washed over me like an icy wave. Someone drew in a deep, hollow breath and when I glanced up, Logan was staring down at his shoes as he rocked on his heels. He would only be staying temporarily as part of an agreement he made with Justus, but it was odd getting used to him in our house.

  “I don’t remember an accent. Cross could tell you more.”

  “How did he beat you? I’m sorry to ask, Silver, but we need to know.” The laptop snapped shut and was set on the table.

  I never talked about the details. As much as I adored these men, Sunny was the only person I could really share my feelings with. I hated the benefactor for trying to break me like an animal, and a small part of me wanted to resent Justus and Simon for allowing him to take me. I knew it was out of their hands and the Mageri was to blame, but anger is like a disease that spreads.

  “I don’t see how that’s going to help you, unless it’s morbid curiosity.”

  Justus leaned forward. “Learner, I have seen many things in my lifetime. Specific techniques of torture can be unique to organizations, countries, territories, and cultures. It may help.”

  I curled my legs to the side to get more comfortable. “I was struck in the same spot repeatedly until I either passed out from the pain, or bit into my own arm to welcome a new pain. How’s that?”

  Someone cursed under their breath.

  “You won’t learn much from those details,” I said. “There wasn’t anything that stood out about him, no scars or missing teeth. He carried a silver flask for alcohol, and a necklace—”

  “What kind of necklace?”

  “A metal chain with a round pendant.”

  “Do you remember what it looked like?” Simon hopped to his feet and circled the floor.

  “This big,” I said, sizing my fingers to a specific distance. “Looked dirty, like an old coin.”

  Justus sat forward. “Can you remember any details or words?”

  “Give me a second, I need to think.” I remembered how it swung over me like a pendulum. “The edges were uneven, but it was a man’s head with leaves.”

  “Roman,” Justus said. “I’d bet on it. He’s old, Simon.”

  “I’m on it.” Simon snatched his laptop and walked into the kitchen.

  I stole his vacant chair. The seat was still warm, and the scent of bubble gum lingered behind.

  “Does this mean he’s a coin collector, or just a guy with really bad fashion taste?”

  “It narrows our search. Some of the older Mage carry tokens of their former life.”

  “Has Mr. Cross been of any help?”

  “That remains to be seen.” Justus rubbed a hand over his shaved head and the bristles scraped against his palm.

  The mood was killing my appetite. “Is there anything sweet left to eat in this house, or did you chuck it all in the trash?”

  Logan laughed at my sudden change in topic. “I could go pick up some donuts. Just say the word.”

  I shot him a frosty glare. “Why don’t you pick up a rash while you’re at it?”

  “We’re out of sugar.” Justus said. “The next time you plan to cook for an army, let me know and I’ll stock up.”

  The man had dry humor that only I appreciated. I grinned at Justus as he walked out of the room. Sunny was in town and I felt like I was beginning to form a circle of friends again. I left Logan and went into the kitchen, only to find Justus and Simon talking in low voices by the fridge. Justus looked upset.

  “I don’t care, he’s still dangerous. She doesn’t even realize—”

  “What’s going on in here?” Their abrupt silence perturbed me. “Tomorrow we’re having a dinner party, and I want to invite Sunny. Everyone is going to have a good time. That’s mandatory.” I put my hands on my hips. “What?”

  Justus looked at me with a crooked expression. “I want you to keep your distance from Logan. He is only here because we struck a deal for your return, and he wants involvement.”

  “There have been several opportunities for him to hurt me, but he hasn’t.”

  “That is the problem, he’s grown too…” Justus looked to Simon who finished his thought.

  “Attached.”

  “Grow up—the both of you.”

  “A dinner party is a wise option. I will send Novis an invitation as I need his consent to access confidential records.” Justus leaned on one arm and gave me the look. “Dress appropriate?”

  He didn’t buy all my clothes. On a few occasions when I was upset with him, I pulled a shirt from my arsenal. There were three particular T-shirts with vulgar slang written on them that made the vein in his forehead poke out. It was a cute little vein, and I grew fond of seeing its public appearance while I walked behind him like a parade of humiliation.

  “I’ve got a lovely pair of knickers, Mary Janes, and a bustier he might fancy. I think I can swing getting the consent you need,” I winked suggestively.

  The door swung behind me and I left them to plot—or do whatever men do when they’re alone. Laughter peeled out of Simon and he carried on like a hyena until I reached my bedroom. Sometimes the fact that he couldn’t shut it off was even funnier than the joke itself.

  Logan was reclined on my bed with his fingers laced behind his head. It was a piece of furniture made for someone his size, and he looked like a king in it.

  “Comfy?”

  “Most definitely,” he sighed. “I’ve been wondering why you chose that shoebox to sleep on. Is this bed not acceptable to your high standards? Perhaps there is a pea tucked between the mattresses,” he suggested, patting the blanket.

  I looked down at my chaise and back to him. “Some things are too big for their own good.”

  He snorted. “Indeed. But I rarely receive complaints.”

  “How do you know I don’t sleep on the bed?”

  “The night I took you,” he said tapping his nose. “I know your scent. I know where you lay.”

  “I’ve never slept on Goliath.”

  Logan scrunched his face, not understanding.

  “It’s what I call the bed; anything that size deserves a name. We don’t have a guest room, so you can take the bed as long as you remain on that side of the room.”

  “I have no desire to invade your space, Mage.”

  I ruffled the small blanket and fluffed my pillow.

  “Why does it appear that your ulterior motive is to prove something?” he mumbled.

  “That a Mage can show more hospitality than a Chitah? I’m not sure what you mean,” I said. “I’m only offering you a bed.”

  “Oh no, this is not happening,” Justus bellowed. “You,” he said, snapping at Logan, “sleep out here on the couch.”

  “Ghuardian, I invited him to take the bed because we don’t have a guest bedroom, and we’re better than that. We share a mutual dislike for each other, so you have nothing to be concerned about.”

  He wrapped his fingers around my wrist. “Come with me.”

  One blink later, Logan was off the bed and wedged between us. The grip loosened and Logan’s voice was low and threatening.

  “Why is it so hard for you Mage to keep your hands to yourself? It’s a quality I find most unappealing.”

  When I felt the energy level in the room rise, I separated the two like a referee.

  “You are overstepping your bounds, Chitah. This is my home,” Justus warned.

  “Ghuardian, you make the rules in the house, but I make the rules in my bedroom,” I said, hoping to avoid a fight. “I’ll keep the door open, and if he so much as looks at me funny, I’ll nuke him.”

  Truthfully, I needed to keep Logan close. I didn’t trust him roaming free in the house. Simon had a mouth and Justus had a temper. If an argument fired up while I was sleeping, I wouldn’t be there to prevent it from escalating. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt Logan wouldn’t harm me.

  “I will not put you at risk,” Justus argued.

  To prove my point, I reached out with my index finger and poked Logan in the side. I pushed enough power in him that he jolted, snapping his head around in surprise as he grabbed his ribs.

  “I can take care of myself,” I declared, ignoring Logan’s reaction. He strolled to a small table with his back to us, holding his side.

  In a low voice I asked, “Don’t you trust me enough to make a sensible decision?”

  Justus leveled me with his eyes. I felt a million words in that silent stare, but I knew he was glad to have me home because he avoided the fight, turned, and left the room.

  “Sometimes father doesn’t know best,” Logan suggested, puffing out a candle on the wall.

  He removed his shoes and socks, pulled the belt free from his jeans, and the sheets hissed as he eased inside.

  Several minutes ticked by of Logan tossing and turning.

  “What’s the matter?” I finally asked, punching my pillow and turning to face him.

  Silence. I waited for an answer and closed my eyes again.

  “I sleep in the nude.”

  “Not tonight, you don’t!”

  “Evidently.”

  “Why don’t you put the sweater on? It might be more comfortable.”

  “I’d rather you wear it.”

  Those words hung in the air more like a suggestion than a comment.

  “You’re going to pay for the upholstery cleaning of my sofa.”

  “Is there something wrong with my scent?”

  “It’s too strong, and all over my bed.”

  I dipped my nose into the blanket and took a deep breath. The smell was heady and dominating—like an aromatic elixir. I wanted to bury my face in it, and breathe it in all night. Whatever Logan was, he had a power all his own.

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