Darcy bucked against him, beginning to pant. He saw her mind go moon bright, filled with images of him. Her scent flooded him, and he reached down, grabbing his cock and guiding it into her pulsing center.
She sucked him in. Only with Darcy could he let go and just feel. He pulled out and thrust again, sinking in deeper, the sensation of her power milked him as much as her flesh. She arched against him, the friction driving him to that same moon-bright place. All that mattered was them, their pleasure, their skin, their sex … he thrust into her again. Harder. All the while his hawk stretched and folded around her, holding the gentle soul of his witch while he thrust into the wild body of the woman.
“Axel …” Her cry was low and fell into whimpers as she came apart.
He held her tight with one arm, and caressed her clit with his free hand, bringing her again. Bringing her harder, brighter until her mind swirled in hot silver. He thrust again and lost himself in her. Gave her everything. He couldn't hold back with her.
The pleasure pounded him, milked him, and pulsed in white hot silver bliss.
She felt him in her head. Darcy had heard voices all her life, but not like this. This blending of their minds, the blending of their feelings was intense and overwhelming. So intensely intimate that it scared the holy shit out of her.
Axel's powerful body finally stilled, his arm around her waist, his mouth against her neck. He whispered against her skin, “I know.”
He heard her thoughts. Another tremor of pleasure ripped through her. Sucking in air, she said, “What is this?”
Gently, he pulled out from her body, then lifted her as if she weighed no more than one of his pillows. He laid her on the bed, then spread out next to her. He slid an arm beneath her shoulders and pulled her into him, into the warmth and safety of his chest. “Some kind of mind link.”
Fear began to crawl into her mind. She tried to roll out of his arms.
He tightened his grip. “Honey, we're not done here.” He brought his free hand up to stroke her breasts and thumb a nipple.
Warm waves of pleasure swelled in her belly but she fought them. “No.”
His hand stilled on her breast and he looked down at her. “What's wrong, Darcy? I know damn well you have the stamina to go two more rounds. And I know you want me. So why not?”
Because she was doing something to him! And he was doing something to her. Making her want to be with him. Making her want to trust him. But that was stupid. Foolish. When they had sex, Axel made her feel … loved. She burst out with, “Don't do this. Just … don't.”
His gaze softened while his hand spread over her breast, covering it. “You're afraid.”
“Realistic.” She struggled to control her swirling energy. To push it back into her chakras, but her powers were responding to Axel's touch. She couldn't get control of them. That scared her more and she snapped, “It's just sex, Axel. I'm nothing to you. You've probably been sleeping with other women all the while I've been living in your basement.” That hurt, damn it. She'd given him too much of herself. He could destroy her. Still struggling for control, she said, “We had sex and now I have work to do.”
He snorted. “I haven't touched another woman since that night I took you from the mortuary.”
Her skin prickled. “Why not?”
His green gaze was hot on her face. “You. From the first, you got under my skin. I thought it was the blood-lust, that I had touched your blood and that touch got me addicted to you. But now I don't feel the bloodlust. It's just gone.”
She froze, trying to understand. “How do you think that happened?”
Propping his head up on his left hand, he drew his long fingers around her breasts, down her belly and back up. He turned his eyes to hers. “Maybe we are breaking this curse by turning back to the Wing Slayer. We took the wings, he changed mine to hawk wings, and now we're trying to make the right choices.”
She shivered at his touch, her powers followed his fingers like a magnet, creating sensual warm sparks in the pattern his fingers traced. Her body tightened with need. But what touched her heart was the hope in his voice. It was the only time she'd heard that kind of hope in Axel. She might be the one to shatter his hope. Or maybe he was right and this was evidence of the Wing Slayer accepting his hunter. She didn't know. “Do you think that's why the wings feel real to us?”
He moved his hand back to toy with her breasts. “Yes. Wing Slayer Hunters, before the curse, didn't have wings. But the Wing Slayer does. So maybe that makes our wing tattoo feel real.”
Or Darcy had completed the curse and turned him into a familiar, essentially an animal. Could that be what was bringing the wings to life? It was so confusing. She was even more confused with his hands on her. She tried to work it out. “Witches evolved. We came from special mortals, evolved into a separate race, and then over centuries evolved into more powerful beings with every generation, every reincarnation. That's what Carla told me. Then the curse happened. Both witches and witch hunters were changed by the curse, we lost a chunk of our powers, you lost your immortality and were saddled with a curse. All our souls were damaged. What if we have to evolve enough to reconnect; us to our Ancestors and you to your Wing Slayer?” Did her mom's soul-mirror theory play a part in that? Or was she just grasping at anything to avoid the fact that she might have turned Axel into a familiar against his will?
His gaze was steady on her face, showing he was listening. Thinking. “What was it about me that got the Wing Slayer's attention enough to change my tattoo?”
Darcy wrapped her fingers around his thick wrist, drawing his hand up to hold it between her breasts. “You told me you've resisted this curse since you were fourteen years old. You were clear on that. Fourteen. Why?”
His green eyes, so fierce and warm, suddenly iced over.
She could feel the cords and tendons of his wrist harden beneath her fingers. “Tell me,” she said softly.
“When I was fourteen, my father tried to turn me rogue.”
A second passed before she grasped it. “He wanted you to kill a witch?”
His jaw clenched.
She felt the rush of power flowing through her fingers, sending calming energy.
Axel answered, “Yes. She was tied down in a room where no one would hear. He cut her. She screamed …”
The backwash images exploded in Darcy's head. The witch was tied down in a dirty little room, her blond hair matted with sweat and fear. In the memory, Darcy could smell the thick copper scent from her blood and Axel's rogue dad.
She could see a large man standing next to a tall gangly boy. The man's hand whipped out a silver knife and slashed it across the witch's white belly.
The witch screamed and twisted against the ropes tying her down, begging the Ancestors for help. Begging the boy.
She could see young Axel stood frozen next to his father.
Then his dad grabbed his wrist and shoved his hand into the wound. The boy was horrified, then confused as the pleasure and power tore through him like a rocket. He shivered with it … until the witch screamed again.
The boy snatched his hand back, turned and ran. His heart pounding, he ran out of the building into the dirty abandoned lot choked with weeds and trash. Seeing his bloody hand, Axel leaned over and threw up.
Myles came out. “You sniveling little coward!” He backhanded the boy to the ground.
Axel's voice broke through the memory. “Come back, Darcy.”
The image broke up into pieces and faded away. Axel's face took its place. The face of the full grown, very powerful man, not the boy.
Her eyes filled with hot tears, but she didn't care. “I saw it. Oh, God. Your dad is a monster!”
He used his thumb to wipe away her tears. “I tried to fight him, I had some insane notion of saving the witch. But my father was bigger and beat the shit out of me. But even then, when he tried to drag me back in there, I got away. Ever since then I've built my life around self-control, around never letting the curse cont
rol me.”
Her throat filled again. “Axel …” She didn't care if he saw her cry for him, and she clutched his hand tighter between her breasts. “You stood up. For a witch.”
“I'm not sure if it was for her, or me. I didn't want to be him. I didn't want to be a slave to a curse, or anything like that.”
Her throat was full of emotion but she managed to say, “You were born to lead.”
“Jesus, Darcy. You make me want to be that man you see.” He leaned down, kissing away her tears. “What we have is more than sex, sweet witch.” He shifted, rolling on top of her and sliding deep inside of her.
He thrust, shattering her defenses and stroking her body to fiery heat. Darcy put her arms around Axel, holding him to her, desperate to imprint this memory, this moment, of pure acceptance in her mind.
As her orgasm took her, she arched back and forced her eyes open to see Axel. He was watching her, his green eyes burning with hunger. Then he was pounding into her, his powerful shoulders gleaming, muscles popping, and finally he rose up, thrust one last time and let out a roar as he came.
To Darcy's shock, a huge set of brown-and-gold wings opened up in majestic masculine beauty behind him.
Oh, God. What had she done to him? They weren't just feeling the sensation of wings, they were real.
And Axel, in the throes of his orgasm, never noticed.
FRIDAY: DAY SEVEN OF THE DEATH MARK
“Axel and his men know who you are, and where you live,” Darcy said to Carla, who was on the laptop. She was sitting on Axel's bed with the laptop she'd found in all his computer stuff. After making love again with Axel, she'd fallen asleep and slept straight through the night from exhaustion.
And that damned hawk. Every time she'd almost surfaced from sleep, he'd stroked her while Axel held her in his arms and she'd settled into sleep again. Like he knew she needed the rest.
Darcy watched as the Crone avatar disintegrated and Carla appeared. Her hazel eyes filled with concern. “I should have known they'd find me. They always do.”
Her chest hurt. “I'm sorry. Axel swore they wouldn't hurt you, that they've all vowed to fight the curse. They even found a safe place for some earth witches that were cut by rogues and dumped in his club.” He'd told her about it last night.
“I know you trust him, but it's harder for me.”
Darcy felt the pain in her words. “Why? What happened, Carla?”
“When I lived in San Francisco, we had a group practice. I was the hypnotist in a clinic that emphasized whole body and mind health. We worked with mortals that had been damaged by witch hunters.”
“You were all witches?”
Carla nodded. “I was an activist, lobbying that witches had to stop hiding and do what we were born to do. Help mortals and stand against evil, including rogues. I brought in a mortal woman who was having blackouts and other symptoms similar to Morgan's. The rogue who had done that to her managed to track her to my clinic. He killed her and my three partners.” Her eyes grew pale and haunted. “He sliced them up, they screamed, it was awful. It was a miracle I got away, but my three partners and the mortal woman were killed.” She turned away from the camera and lifted her shirt. A long white scar snaked across her skin.
“Oh, Carla!” The horror of what she had gone through pressed down on her. “That's why you wouldn't talk about why you left San Francisco. I knew something bad had happened and I thought it had to do with your work, but not … I'm so sorry.”
“Learn from my mistakes, Darcy. I learned that day that we have no choice but to hide.”
She understood why Carla was so careful. “But the work you do now is dangerous. Some of these cults do mass brainwashing. They have guns. You're still in danger.”
“Yes. But it's a danger I can manage. Witch hunters are much more dangerous.”
“Yet you took the risk of talking to me using the Crone avatar.”
Carla waved her hand. “You're my friend. And I screwed up. The second you told me about the creepy guy at the cemetery, I should have driven to your house and told you that I am a witch and so are you. You have a right to be pissed at me for not telling you.”
Warmth flooded Darcy. She wasn't pissed, not any longer. Carla had done what she believed was best. She'd been attacked by rogues directly. “You thought I was safer living as a mortal. You're a good friend. You took a huge risk agreeing to help Morgan.”
“How could I not help her? It's like you and Hannah—some things we just can't walk away from and still live with ourselves.” She took a breath and added, “I told Morgan about the baby. Morgan told Joe.”
“Are they okay?” She vacillated on Joe. She wished he could find a normal, emotionally healthy woman, but that wasn't the woman he'd found. It was Morgan. Darcy had known it from the first time Joe had seen her after Darcy hired her.
“Morgan is remarkable. I planted some suggestions to help her cope while she was in the astral state.”
“What's that?”
“It's where her mind rises to during hypnosis. Where she's safe. And Joe, well, Darcy, he cares about Morgan.”
She nodded. “I just don't want him hurt. He came home so … disconnected.”
“He was connected to you. And taking care of your mother helped him, too. We'll see with Morgan. She's suffered tremendous torture and damage to her brain. But pregnancy is powerful, too, and a mother's drive to protect her child is amazing. That's what has saved Morgan so far. The pregnancy hormones, I believe, had begun rebuilding some of the damaged brain cells even before I started working with her yesterday. That's why she was getting stronger and stronger memory flashes.”
Darcy thought of Fallon's drive to protect her. Fallon had died trying to keep Darcy safe. And now, she needed to be as strong and brave as her mother to protect Hannah. Thinking of the tapestry, she asked, “How do I turn that sand in the silver box into something I can understand?”
“You transfer it to something of yours. Something silver. That will bring the knowledge from your mother's spell directly to you. But it is a spell, Darcy. Not low magic. It will take time for the knowledge to transfer and for you to absorb it into the silver you choose. During that time, you'll be open to danger from demons. You need a familiar and you don't have one.”
“How did you do it then? You have a spell book, right?”
“My mother was alive, and she gave me spells and history a little at a time. It wasn't the same as this—your mother's spells have been stored in a third location for twenty-six years. You're using only your magic to pull them all out at one time and fill the silver you choose. It's higher magic. I don't know if you'll be able to control it without a familiar.”
She felt a chill travel down her spine. Looking around Axel's room, she knew that none of the cameras or speakers were on. Just the laptop, which she and Carla were using with magic. She said in a whisper, “Maybe I do have one.”
Carla's hazel eyes glowed with excitement. “You have a familiar? We haven't been able to get one in decades. Darcy, this could be a breakthrough for us!”
She slumped against the pillows. “Or it could be something much worse.” Quickly, she outlined Fallon's belief that the witches and witch hunters had their souls halved during that fateful night when the demon witches cast the blood and sex curse to bind the witch hunters as familiars.
Carla's eyes widened. “You and Axel fulfilled the curse?”
“He touched my blood that first night. I touched his when he was injured. And we've had sex.” Sex didn't begin to describe it.
“And his bloodlust?”
Feeling despair and frustration, she said, “When he's with me, it seems to be gone.” She looked up at Carla and said the words she dreaded, “I'm afraid I've bound him to me. As a familiar.”
Carla said, “Only animals can be familiars. It's never been successfully done with a mortal or witch hunter that I know of. Look what happened when the demon witches tried it.”
Darcy thought of the wings she'd
seen on Axel. Had they been real? They had looked real. “What if I've turned him into an animal?”
“Not likely. Any harm an earth witch causes with her powers comes back to her times three, and changing a man into an animal is causing harm. What else did your mother say?”
“She called it soul mirror. The hunters’ souls have been searching for witch blood and sex from the curse, and the witches have been searching for a familiar. Neither can fulfill the need. She believed that when we found the right hunter, when the souls mirrored each other's needs, that the soul would be whole again.”
“You and Axel weren't there at the curse. You weren't born and Axel was a kid. But we know the curse spread to all witches and hunters from that point on, so all the souls were pulled into this.” Carla's hazel eyes lost focus as she thought. Then she reached up and closed her left hand around the ornate silver band that circled her right bicep.
“What are you doing?”
“This is where I keep my witch book. I'm looking for information.” She closed her eyes. Her image on the computer brightened then settled. She opened her eyes and said, “All the information I have in my witch book about a familiar says that the familiar always has the right to reject the witch. I'd think that would still hold true even in this soul-mirror scenario.”
Greasy sickness rolled in her belly. She thought of Axel telling her about his dad, and how he'd never be a slave to a curse. Or a witch's spell binding him as a familiar, she thought. To Carla, she said, “I have to find out. We should all work together, all the witches, I mean. Can't you vouch for me and get the Circle Witches to accept me?”
“I can't, Darcy.” Carla looked back at her from the laptop screen. “They won't accept you. Not while you are living with a witch hunter and working with him. And there's another problem.”
Her bubble burst with the painful sting of rejection. “Because I have witch-hunter blood from my biological father. They don't trust me.”
BLOOD MAGIC Page 22
