Impulse (Mageri Series: Book 3)

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Impulse (Mageri Series: Book 3) Page 8

by Dannika Dark


  This was Logan, the minimalist, who didn’t even hang a curtain on his window and his bed was nothing more than a mattress on the floor. The tall windows ran almost floor to ceiling and gave a picturesque view of his side of town. Luckily, there were no apartments across from us, but he faced due east and that meant the sun would be rising with us.

  Logan was in the hallway talking to Justus on the phone. He kept his voice low, but the tone was assertive and indicated he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He respected Justus, but Logan was very much a man of his own who rarely held his tongue.

  Moonlight shone through the open window and a mystical glow blanketed the dark room. When Logan returned, he was wearing a pair of snug black briefs that made his body look magnificent. He placed a steaming Tupperware bowl on the floor beside me and paced to the window.

  “You’re Ghuardian doesn’t like me very much.”

  “What would you do if some guy called you up and announced that your little girl was going to spend the night with him?”

  He arrowed his gaze at me. “I’d tear out his throat.”

  “So find a way to relate to him,” I suggested, eying his briefs. “I see you found something to wear.”

  Logan reached down and picked up a shirt beside the bed, tossing it on my chest. It smelled like him, and I tried like hell not to take a deep breath when I slipped it over my head.

  He fell beside me and slung his right arm over his face. “I apologize for arriving late tonight. Leo called us over to break the news about the bombing. I left the damn phone in the car and didn’t get your messages until I was on my way.”

  “What did Leo tell you?”

  “That you were safe, because that was my first concern. Leo downplayed the casualties, but I could tell by his scent that it was more serious than he made it out to be.”

  “It was,” I said in a low voice. “Did he tell you they put liquid fire in the bomb? Everyone injured was covered in it.”

  “Death is a better alternative than what some of them will be faced with.”

  “Adam was hurt,” I said ruefully. “Justus could have died. I guess we aren’t so indestructible after all.”

  Logan rolled on his side and brushed his palm across my forehead.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked. “I can call a Relic if you need me to. Say the word.”

  “If something had happened to Justus, the Mageri would have given me a new Ghuardian—and you know how I feel about their decisions. It would have devastated me to lose him.”

  He stretched over me and grabbed the plastic bowl, stirring its contents with a small fork. “Open.”

  “What is it?”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  He was always challenging me with the trust thing. I parted my lips and he held the fork to his mouth, blowing the steam before feeding me in bed. “It’s pasta shells with meat sauce. Do you like it?”

  His eyes watched me unblinking, waiting for a response.

  “It’s delicious,” I said with a mouthful. “What’s that zest?”

  Logan lifted the fork to his mouth and licked the prongs. “My secret recipe.” He gave me another bite. “I enjoy feeding you in my bed,” he said decidedly.

  “Not as much as I enjoy eating in it.” I wiggled in the sheets and pulled them up to my neck as he shoveled in another bite.

  I could get used to this kind of pampering, I thought.

  “How did the intruders get in?”

  “Simon learned that some of the guards were shot with metal arrows,” I replied. “They’re rare stunners acquired on the black market. Because stunners were made long ago, most were fashioned into blades. You can’t melt down the metal or it removes the properties that paralyze a Mage. Arrows make it easier to take down a Mage from afar. Not sure why they didn’t make more of them back then since they seem more practical.”

  “Who was the intended target?”

  “We think Novis, or the Mageri as a whole. Nero may be pissed that I’m walking free and not in shackles—”

  A low growl rumbled in Logan’s chest at the word shackles.

  “Nero resents the idea that we’re working together and forming bonds, and he despises HALO,” I said. “He thinks they’re sharing too many secrets.

  “Men like that think power is entitled to them. I’ve seen it. Very few of the ancient immortals are humbled by anyone or anything. Many are cold and indifferent.”

  I turned my back to Logan and he stroked my left hip. “What troubles you?” I heard him set down the bowl.

  The entire evening, that’s what. My insides recoiled, thinking about how Logan could hurt me even worse than any physical abuse I had endured. I kept my heart caged—protected—and it became the compass that gave me direction. I filled it to capacity with love for those that I cared for, but I didn’t know if I was willing to give it away to someone who wouldn’t guard it with their life. Would he?

  “Speak to me,” he insisted. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Everything. Nothing. I’m just exhausted.” I yawned. “It’s been a long night and I can hardly keep my eyes open. I don’t want to keep thinking about this.”

  “Then close your eyes and sleep.”

  “I’m afraid of the nightmares,” I mumbled.

  Logan propped himself up on his elbow and his voice became stone. “Then I’ll guard you with my life in your dreams.”

  ***

  I awoke without any memory of dreams, but wondered if Logan had wandered into them to watch over me. In any case, I felt refreshed and stretched out my stiff legs. Morning light was cruel the way it sliced through the window like optical fire. It may have been stormy outside, but it wasn’t the dark cocoon I’d grown accustomed to.

  Thunder rolled. A thin film of fog covered the glass and the rain tapped against the overhang.

  After a long stretch, I sat up and smiled. My red shirt had FLASH written on it with a lightning bolt. Logan was a man who was into the classics and I loved his sense of humor. His confident demeanor made his clothing choice irrelevant.

  I walked to the window and drew a small heart on the foggy glass with my fingertip. Down below on the glistening street, an angry driver blasted his horn and splashed a young man standing on the curb.

  A delicious aroma dragged me into the kitchen. “Smells good in—”

  I always wondered what it would feel like to be mummified—wrapped so tightly that you couldn’t move and the only thing visible were your wide eyes. That was exactly how I felt in that moment.

  Finn sat on one of the stools in the kitchen with his bare feet on the rungs. Dressed in a pair of sweatpants, he scraped his shaggy hair forward. His eyes were glued to a plate and his face was the color of my shirt.

  Finn lived here, too. I rarely visited Logan’s condo so it slipped my mind. He was here all night.

  All. Night.

  While nothing out of the ordinary went on in the shower—no noises or shattering glass from high-decibel screaming—the only thing that would make him turn the color of a tomato would be if he had seen us nude in the kitchen.

  “Little Wolf, it would be impolite not to greet my female when she enters a room,” Logan said sternly as he continued stirring something in a bowl.

  “Hey, Silver,” Finn grumbled forcefully.

  I pivoted on my heel and hurried through the living room. Logan seized my wrist and stepped in my path.

  “I’ve cooked breakfast. Join us. Little Wolf must learn what it means to please a woman.” His hand memorized my arm, sliding up to my shoulder as if recapturing a memory. “There’s no shame in what we did.”

  “I’m not here to teach any lessons, or especially give him one in anatomy. Now let me salvage what dignity I have left and leave.”

  Thunder crashed and I winced. Lightning always put me on edge and since I had become a Mage, it seemed that I was more sensitive to the intense energy in the air. Logan absently ran his fingers through my tangled hair. “Have you ev
er been held captive?”

  He loved playing the “have you ever” game, only now, he was being facetious.

  “Why did you parade me around like that if you knew Finn was in here?”

  His voice became apologetic and he slid his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans. “His wolf always prowls at that hour. My hands were too full to notice he was in human form.” Logan shrugged and I knew he was telling the truth.

  “Fine, let’s eat,” I hissed, heading into the kitchen. “Finn, I’d rather not discuss it and I’m guessing that you feel the same way.”

  He quickly nodded in agreement and stuffed a folded pancake into his mouth.

  “So what’s cooking?”

  Logan lifted the spatula and flipped something in the pan. “English pancakes with lemon. Also some tomatoes, sausages, and eggs.”

  “Well, that’s different.”

  “How do you want your eggs?”

  “Apocalyptic. I don’t even want it to resemble an egg when you’re done with it,” I said, pointing at the hot sauce on the cabinet. “Usually I go for plain omelets but I’m having a craving for heat.”

  “You’re not the only one,” he murmured. “If my female likes it hot… then hot she will get.”

  Logan’s words were like a full-body massage. I loved it when he stroked me with his tongue—verbally and otherwise. It didn’t escape my attention either that he was using the term “my female” more often. The first time was at the restaurant on our date. I didn’t object, but I silently noted it.

  We sat at the kitchen island and I watched Logan squeeze lemon juice over his pancake.

  “Who marked you?” he asked.

  “Now you’re curious?”

  “I avoided the topic last night for a reason,” he said with his mouth full. “Now that I’m calm, I want to hear all about the male who decided to mark you without consent.”

  Finn held a piece of sausage between his fingers and frowned. A shaggy wave of his hair crossed over his eye and he wiped it away. “What happened?”

  “Nero had me followed by a Chitah. I have something he wants.”

  “Well he can’t have you.” Logan shoved a sausage into his mouth and licked his thumb.

  “He’s not after me this time. I went with Simon to Samil’s house and we found a box. I don’t know what’s in it.” I pointed my fork at them. “That really pisses me off, too. It seems that my involvement with this case is at the discretion of my Ghuardian. If someone is tracking me for information, then I should at least know what I’m defending.”

  “You were at Samil’s?” Finn wiped his greasy fingers on his sweats because Logan didn’t have any napkins. His cheeks were a little plumper and his thin frame was starting to fill in. I hadn’t realized how malnourished he really was when we found him until now.

  “Simon was given permission to conduct another search,” I replied. “Are you sure you don’t know of any other houses Nero stayed at, Finn?”

  “I told you everything I know,” he said defensively. Finn pushed his plate forward and dropped his hands in his lap, staring at the counter.

  “It’s not an accusation. I’m just frustrated.” I poked my eggs with the fork and Logan glared at me for not eating.

  “Give him the box. It’s more important than your life,” Logan said.

  I shook my head.

  When he slammed his fork down, it bounced across the surface with a violent sound. “Dammit, Silver! Someone is trying to…” Logan paused.

  “What? Finish what you were about to say.”

  “Why did the Chitah mark you?”

  “To piss me off? To threaten me? I don’t know.”

  Black rings circled the circumference of his eyes. “A Chitah does not threaten a female with his scent.”

  “He knows that you’re protecting me. I can’t tell you what his strategy is, but don’t let him draw you out.”

  Logan stood up and placed the flat of his hands on the table. Every muscle in his sculpted face went rigid as his brow lowered. His blond, tangled hair concealed his eyes. “He didn’t induce you to give him what he wanted by verbal intimidation. When a male wants something from a female, those are his tactics because it’s not in our nature to inflict harm on a gender we revere. Even if he knew I was protecting you, it doesn’t explain why the hell he put his scent all over you.”

  “Look, I don’t know! He just said he wanted to have some fun and then he started rubbing himself against—”

  Logan threw his stool across the room and stormed out as a crack of thunder sounded. Finn lifted his eyes submissively from the floor, but he wasn’t shaken. Somewhere deep inside that boy was a tethered wolf.

  Chapter 7

  “Everyone have a seat because I have something to say.” I watched Justus and Simon move to their usual spots while Logan claimed the chair on my right.

  Logan was there to defuse the situation by explaining why he hadn’t brought me home the night before. I admired the way he stood up to Justus because earning that man’s respect had nothing to do with kissing ass. Justus would never respect a man who couldn’t hold his own. He wasn’t thrilled when he found out a Chitah was tailing me, but a smirk crossed his expression when I told him how I escaped.

  “Nero hired someone to hunt me down for the contents of the box we found in Samil’s basement, and I have a right to know what I’m risking my life protecting. Pencils? Old postcards?”

  Justus pulled a small bowl of almonds in front of him, popping a handful into his mouth. “Samil was involved in illegal activities. Breed cannot have children with humans—it’s impossible.”

  Flustered, I leaned forward. “You’re telling me something I already know. But what are you not telling me?”

  Simon leaned back and put his right shoe on the edge of the table, tying the laces together. “Genetic experimentation. The box contained records and a long list of names, which I suspect that Samil gave to his trackers—including Marco. Samil kept this little secret from Nero for obvious reasons. The blighter didn’t want to give up what little control he had. I’m trying to locate all the names—they’re a pain in the arse to find,” he added with a wave of the hand.

  “What is the list? I mean, where does it come from?”

  “Haven’t a clue, but everyone on that list has something in common.”

  “What?” I asked.

  Simon’s jaw tightened and he tilted his chair on the back two legs. “They were all adopted.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The medical records we found in the box were their birth mothers—women who went missing years ago and were never found. Do you know who your father is?” Simon arched a single brow and tapped the large skull ring on his middle finger against the wood. “Your mother was human, but we think you have Breed in you.”

  I caught my breath and let the silence settle in the room like a sheet slowly falling on a mattress.

  “We just established that crossbreeding is impossible. I wasn’t adopted. Samil may have been involved in something unscrupulous, but don’t include me in your theories,” I warned in a hostile tone.

  “Love, you really need to get that bee out of your bonnet.”

  Logan removed the small bit of mint gum from his mouth and neatly tucked it inside a wrapper, keeping a watchful eye on Simon. The crinkling sound made me want to snap, and I contemplated throwing the candelabra to the ground. Instead, I watched Simon launch out of the chair and study the painting on the wall with his hands in his back pockets.

  “Ever heard of the phrase: If you can’t beat them, join them? Some imbeciles believe that if they tamper with the human gene pool, then they can produce more Breed. Their goal would be to decimate the human population so that they are no longer a threat. I’m trying to think of an example.” He tapped his chin and turned around, leaning against the wall. “Killer bees weren’t such a good idea,” he mumbled.

  “Simon, I get your point. What does this have to do with me?”
r />   “Your mother was a patient. We found her records.”

  “You said all the women went missing,” I pointed out.

  “And they did. She changed her name.”

  I sank in the chair and felt the torturous effect of a lie shred its way through every fabric of my life.

  “She told me she was in Europe but never said why,” I quietly spoke. “What’s in her file?”

  “Not much information aside from dates and treatments administered—although it doesn’t tell what was given. It’s all in code. Have you ever noticed anything different about yourself? As a human,” Simon stressed. He leaned forward with his knuckles planted on the table. Justus laced his fingers together and pressed them to his lips as if in prayer.

  “I didn’t exactly change into a circus monkey, nor was I the fastest girl on the track team,” I said sarcastically.

  Simon snorted but held it together. Logan, on the other hand, rubbed his laughter away with the palm of his hand. The sound of short whiskers rubbing against his fingers caught my attention.

  “Your physical transformation when you became a Mage is unheard of. We thought there might be an explanation,” Simon hinted. He was alluding to my being a Unique, but didn’t speak it aloud with Logan present. “There’s also the fact that it didn’t happen to Samil’s other progeny. Being a Mentalist, he sensed you were still alive, but I bet he had a hell of a time finding you. Took the manky bastard how many months?” he asked, looking at Justus.

  “It can’t be possible. I’m a Mage,” I said in a doubtful voice. Logan reached over and gripped my knee.

  Simon twirled a thick ring on his finger and took it off, studying the intricate design. “I don’t know what they were brewing in their mad-scientist labs, but I’m only guessing they extracted the bits and goodies from a Relic or maybe one of those Shifters. It couldn’t be from a Mage because we’re sterile—thank bloody heaven. I’m just trying to collect as much information as possible.” Simon pushed his index fingers into the corners of his eyes and rubbed.

  “Well, this is stupid,” I began, “but I’ve always been full of static. I could shock anyone without trying. Usually I had to discharge on a doorknob or something metal. One time I fried the motherboard on my computer when I turned it on. Now it seems to have regulated in my body.”

 

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