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Lunar Marked (Sky Brooks Series Book 4)

Page 17

by McKenzie Hunter


  The same anger that had taken me over with Michaela had reasserted itself, and instead of fear, he showed appreciation. Would he appreciate how many ways I wanted to make him dead?

  “I do believe Steven will be next, the coyote, right?”

  Magic shot through me like an explosion, sending Ethos into the wall, drywall crumbling behind him.

  Countering with just as much force he slammed me into the wall where he left me pinned, immobile. Magic was like a live wire inside me ready to be released, and the more I remained restricted the more it clamored to be free. It coursed through me in a way that was unfamiliar—yet, familiar. I could taste it, smell, see the various colors of its existence as it painted the air. It felt strange—I felt strange.

  “Ah, there she is,” Ethos said, closing in on me.

  He was right—there was a “she,” because I didn’t feel like me. The anger didn’t feel like mine. The control of the magic had exceeded my ability and wasn’t mine.

  The curiosity that covered his face quickly slipped into intrigue. “Maya,” he said softly. “Wake up. It’s time.”

  Something stirred in me. He felt it, too. A smile licked at the corners of his lips. An insatiable thirst for power drenched his being, I felt it. Longing for a time when people like him ruled and everyone else were just servants were my desire and memories. She possessed that greed, and it felt odd—dangerous. Living far too long in a docile body, one that only managed magic but never truly controlled it, she wanted control and it punched through my chest.

  He spoke gently in a language I didn’t recognize. His mesmeric gaze pinned me and I couldn’t manage to pull away from it. But it felt like he was trying to usher her forward in a hostile takeover of my body. He seduced out complacency and her desire for power and reverence for a moment became mine. The thirst was there waiting to be quenched.

  Damn.

  I looked away, stumbling back as I snatched control again. My vision was different, viewing the world from a different position. A position where Ethos sat, where he viewed we would be. I tried to temper it. For so long I had been in control, and now Maya was trying to claw her way out.

  Damn!

  The harsh reality dawned that for so long I just didn’t have the control that I needed. I existed because of a host I knew nothing about, Ethos wanted me to control the otherworld and saw me as nothing but a means to an end, Sebastian was dying if he wasn’t dead already, and probably more would die if I didn’t comply with Ethos. There weren’t many other things to describe what went on in my head except my life was a clusterfuck and I didn’t have any more care to give. This wasn’t a life, living in fear, knowing that my friends would be assassinated because this ass had delusions of grandeur and a narcissistic need to be revered like a god.

  I was so far into I-don’t-give-a care land that I was dangerous. And it was the source of what drove me. I didn’t care if I hurt him, didn’t care if the only thing standing at the end of this fight was the frame of the house. I didn’t care if I drained the Aufero and shattered it into bite-size pieces of bad magic. Vengeance was the driver and I was so happy to be along for the ride.

  Ripping from the wall it felt like I lunged through a glass window, the shard of broken magic stabbing into me. Panting, I needed to be close enough to use the Aufero’s magic, within ten feet usually worked. I pulled it to me and twirled my finger, binding Ethos’s arms at his side. I wasn’t sure if this would stop him. More skilled magic wielders didn’t need to use their hands to focus the magic, but it made it easier.

  Forming the protective field around us, I held it as he used magic to thrust against it, trying to break it. Short gasps escaped from him as he attempted to find what little oxygen existed in the space. He slid to the ground, but I held it, my mind drifting from the lack of oxygen, my heart struggling to take that needed beat. I had to keep it up just a little longer. I clawed at the life that was slowly being pulled from me. Just one more minute, I could do it. Ethos, stop moving.

  I kept it up. He flinched—magic punched me harder than I could ever imagine, and the field shattered, decimated to the point not even its existence lingered in the air as it usually did. He panted, his sharp gaze holding mine. I clenched the knife harder, ready to engage, when a wolf exploded through the door, and his claws embedded in Ethos’s back, his teeth fixed on his shoulder. Ethos howled in pain, moving wildly as he attempted to throw Ethan off of him. When Ethan’s grip loosened, Ethos disappeared, leaving a trail of his blood.

  Grabbing a towel from the kitchen, I wiped up some of it, and then put it in a sealed bag to preserve it. His blood had helped locate him before, maybe we could use it again. I plopped on the sofa next to Ethan, who sprawled out next to me. When he melted into his human form I pulled the throw off the sofa and tossed it over him. He allowed it to fall from him as he sat up, baring everything I tried to cover.

  There is nothing wrong with a little modesty, Ethan.

  “That was a hell of a fight,” he said.

  “Not really, I failed. I needed more time.” My failure made me feel like I might as well have been the one who shot Sebastian. Guilt was one of those emotions that lived in a place of irrational thoughts. It dragged you through your other emotions and tossed you about so aggressively that feeling it, even for minutes, left me exhausted and feeling pangs of remorse.

  “You can’t blame yourself. You did what you could.”

  “Did Josh tell you everything?” I asked. With all the commotion, he was the only person I had told about my altercation with Ethos and the shooter.

  He nodded. “Everything, including that you went after the shooter with a knife.” He shook his head and scrubbed his hand over the light stubble that had grown over the past few days.

  His lips rested somewhere between an annoyed smile and a smirk. “So you literally took a knife to a gunfight,” he exhaled, shaking his head. I slid my hand under the sofa until I felt the metal handle of the knife, pulled it out, looked at a target—a pillow that had been displaced through everything—and threw the knife, hard. It wedged into the pillow.

  “I know how to use a knife. Can’t shoot the side of a house from ten feet away but I can use a knife.” Although a nine iron was my weapon of choice. People would laugh at it until they were whacked with it one good time and then laughter would stop. Add a little power to the swing and you will definitely get their attention. Swords are good, too, and I don’t care what anyone says, they require minimal skill. Just swing one and you’ll hit something that will make someone hurt. But you can’t really walk around the house with a sword strapped to your back in a city; a knife can be easily concealed.

  Ethan considered me for a long time. And I could tell what he was thinking. I had changed. But I couldn’t tell how he felt about it. Sometimes I hated it, and longed for the person who was oblivious of such violence, darkness, magic, and all the odd things that existed in this world.

  I could feel his gaze on me but I couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead I looked down at my blood-covered hands and blood-washed shirt. “I still haven’t gotten used to other people’s blood on me,” I admitted. I had times where I woke up in the woods with rabbit or deer blood, and I didn’t like it, but I suspect no one really gets used to other’s blood on them.

  He nodded slowly, quietly concerned as he sat in silence. He looked down at my shirt again, the dent in my wall, and back at me. Tracing along my jawline, his finger ran its course and then rested along my neck. The side of my neck that was probably still discolored from Quell feeding from me. “You went to see Quell first?”

  I didn’t respond. He already knew the answer, and I could sense the shift in his mood.

  “How is Sebastian?” I asked, finding his gaze more difficult to hold. The rolls of deep gray that moved along his eyes were more subdued but still present. He dropped his hands from my neck.

  “He’s breathing on his own, Dr. Jeremy seems hopeful. You didn’t answer my question.”

  And that was
not by accident. Don’t wanna.

  I wasn’t sure why Ethan needed people to admit to things. He waited patiently for me to give an answer, and I was sure if it had taken me an hour to do so, he would have been there sitting next to me in silence.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. You should get the blood off.” He stood, extending his hand, and when I took it he led me to the bathroom and remained distant and silent as he turned on the water in the shower, holding eye contact with me the whole time. With clinical detachment, he helped slide my shirt off and then slipped off my pants.

  Say something!

  Maybe the silence was better. My fight with Ethos and how he seemed to be trying to awaken Maya kept racing through my mind. I wanted to make sense of it before I started discussing it with others. I had taken back control, but I wondered if that would always be the case.

  He bundled up the soiled clothes and left, still in silence, looking back at me once more before he left the bathroom.

  I stood under the shower until the water ran clear, hoping to cleanse my mind enough to think of a plan. It gnawed at me—how did Ethos get the Aufero in the first place? My thoughts were interrupted when the shower door slid open and Ethan stepped in and sidled in next to me. The water drummed against our skin, the fragrance of my strawberry body wash wafted through the steam-filled air, a far better scent than blood. He still hadn’t said anything. As the water kept splashing, blurring my vision, his fingers grazed over my neck where Quell had fed from earlier. Warm lips melded over the spot as he licked at the tender area. Gently his lips moved to my jaw until they reached my mouth. He kissed me, soft and commanding. His languid fingers glided along my shoulders, my breast, down my stomach until they had reached the intimate spot between my legs. I gasped; his kiss became more forceful. Ethan wore his emotions too close to the surface and always had an air of turbulence that seemed to be waiting to expunged. The power of his touch commanded my body and I relaxed into him.

  The water cascaded over us as he pressed me into the wall. His experienced sensual hands roved over my body, gliding over the curves of it, until he reached the intimate place between my thighs. His lips captured my gasp as his fingers slipped inside of me coaxing, a feeling of pure eroticism. I dug my fingers into the thick cords of muscle on his back as he nipped my lips before tasting them again. His heavy body rested against me. I clung to him even tighter, hungry for more, my fingers entwined in his hair pulling him, unable to sate the need to feel him closer to me. When he tried to move back I hugged him tighter, afraid that we would lose the moment. Afraid that I would lose him. All the issues between us and the problems of the day dissolved. I needed it, even if it were just for the moment and a pseudo minute of peace. I’d take it.

  Guiding me out of the shower, he stayed close. His lips barely left mine as he made a feeble attempt to wipe off some of the water with a towel he grabbed off the rack. The warmth of his body and touch as he lifted me made the cool air that brushed against my damp skin barely noticeable. I curled my legs around his waist even tighter feeling the heat that connected us at my core. My lips remained pressed against his and refused to part even as laid me on the bed. With reluctance, he pulled away, his lips leaving trails of warmth as they slowly crept down my body, kissing every part of me until I was panting, unable to catch my breath.

  His muscular body, draped over me and nestled between my legs as I ran my hand along his back. Ethan pressed into me. I gasped at the pain, my fingers digging into his back. Closing my eyes, I succumbed to the unfamiliar pain and tried to relax. He rocked his hips into mine gently; I sucked in another sharp breath as he eased my legs wider to accommodate him. And he waited, his warm breath beating against my lips, his liquid silver gaze holding mine, waiting for me to get used to him inside of me.

  “Você está bem?” Are you okay?

  I didn’t answer immediately because I wasn’t. When I finally nodded, he made gentle, firm pushes until he broached the restriction. I bit into my lip, breaking skin. I felt him, all of him inside me. My nails burrowed deeper into the sinewy muscles of his back. Ethan remained still allowing me to get used to the turgid invasion.

  Then he moved slowly in me, languid gentle movements, and his hips hit a gentle rhythm that managed to bring me intense pleasure and a new discomfort so blended that I couldn’t distinguish the two. The pleasure quickly overshadowed everything and I wanted more. More pleasure, more carnal bliss, more him.

  His muscular body draped over me and nestled between my legs as I ran my hand along his side. He was gentle as his hips moved against me, intimately joining us. I attempted to hold his gaze but eventually closed my eyes, unable to ignore the intensity of his passionate unfettered sexuality that existed even through the gentleness.

  “Olhe para mim,” Look at me, he whispered, watching me attentively. My eyes lifted to meet his. I unfurled at the fervency of his movements, his fingers grazing over my body while his lips brushed over me. I couldn’t watch him anymore. No longer in command of my body, I felt as though he had taken it over. I closed my eyes, and we began to move in a fevered rhythm as he elicited more from me than I thought I was capable of giving. I clawed at him as ecstasy overtook me, pulling him closer as he moved deeper inside me. He kissed me harder as his movements escalated, pulling me deeper into pleasure. I hung on to him tighter hoping the feeling would never end. We reached a point of heated euphoria that elicited utter ecstasy and gentle moans from us both. His lips caressed the pulse of my neck as we remained connected. He kissed me lightly, his weight covering mine, and my grip loosened slightly but I couldn’t completely release my hold on him. He kissed me again, resting against me until my body finally relaxed.

  After a few minutes he moved off me, nudged me to my side, and cradled me to him. I shifted back farther—he still seemed too far away. He was like a blanket, covering me, and I relaxed in a deep slumber.

  CHAPTER 8

  Once again, I rolled over after a night with Ethan to an empty bed. Son of a bitch. His scent drifted throughout the room and I was reminded of the night before. Why did I expect more? I shouldn’t have had any delusions about who he was—his reputation spoke for itself. But I still called him a few choice words as I pulled the covers around me tighter. They smelled like him, too.

  But hunger pangs kept me from sleeping. When I went to the kitchen I found the front door was slightly ajar. I peeked out and saw Ethan going through the trunk of his car, a towel barely concealing him.

  “Are you serious?” I barked from the door.

  He grinned. “Good morning.”

  “Get in the house!” I looked around what was about to be become a busy street in a few minutes. Clothes in hand, he walked toward the house but not before David drove by, smiling as his car came to a slow crawl. Perfect. I know what the topic of our next meeting will be. He’ll want details about my night with “sour face.”

  As he returned to the house, the taut muscles of his chest, abs, and legs contracted and relaxed with each step. The pronounced ridges just below his stomach barely kept the towel on. “If that thing falls off, the neighbors will have you arrested,” I said.

  He gave me that self-assured smirk and kissed me on the cheek. “I think I’ll be okay.”

  “Why, because you’re an attorney or because you don’t think anyone will call the police on you?”

  He leaned down kissed me again and said, “Both.”

  I still had a hard time believing he was an attorney, laws just seemed optional to him.

  I found Ethan in front of the dented wall after we had showered and dressed. “You did this?” he asked, looking over at me.

  I nodded, standing next to him. The Aufero was in the corner, still pulsing the odd color that had become the norm, but the magic that drifted off it was stronger and more beseeching. As though it had a mind of its own, its aversion to Ethan remained. When he came near it, the beat quickened, and a diaphanous field protected it from being touched by him.

  Et
han pressed his hand against the field, slowly moving along it, like Josh did when he was looking for a weakness in mine. “Tell me everything that happened yesterday with Ethos.”

  I retold it, Ethan stopping me often to ask for more detail. “I know you didn’t know that language, but can you repeat it?”

  Closing my eyes, I tried to replay each moment of the encounter in my head, the way the magic felt, the way I felt, the sound of Ethos’s voice, the smell that lingered in the air, everything. And then I mumbled the words Ethos said, trying to get Maya to respond.

  He kept repeating them over and over to himself.

  “How many languages do you know?”

  “I speak four, well five now.” He grinned. I wondered how long it took for him to learn Portuguese, especially since he spoke it well. It reminded me of my family, when I visited them last year. It would have been nice to have family to speak it with, but they had to ruin things by trying to kill me.

  “I knew Anderson was going to be trouble the moment I met him. I can’t believe he is okay with working with Ethos” Ethan said, sneering.

  “He was promised the position of Beta of the were-animal pack, definitely an improvement, being the leader of two hundred to being second-in-command of thousands.”

  “Whoever is the Alpha couldn’t turn his back for a second without having Anderson’s knife shoved into it. He will only be the Beta temporarily before he does everything to claw himself to the Alpha position,” Ethan said. He frowned and then asked, “And the shooter? Who was it?”

 

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