His unyielding chest grazed hers, hardening her nipples and she hoped he wouldn’t notice. Wobbling, she clutched at his bicep, the solid muscle contracting when she made contact.
She told herself she was a grown woman and above an adolescent crush. Hormones no longer ruled her life, left behind decades ago. It didn’t help.
Instead her attention focused on his callused palm, the smoothness of his skin, the faint wood smoke scent drifting from him and the way the light picked up copper highlights in his hair. Oh damn, she was losing it. If she didn’t gain control, she’d do something horribly embarrassing, like throwing herself at him.
Shifting her weight, a slight stabbing pain brought her back to reality.
Dropping Jackson’s hand, she hopped backwards, moving closer to the bed and sank down. It squeaked and shuddered as it took her weight.
Bed wouldn’t last a good night of marathon sex, she thought then scolded herself, damn it mind, get out of the gutter.
“Thanks” She said grudgingly. “What do you plan on doing with me? I’m casting my vote for ‘Let the innocent woman go.’ I’m fine with you blindfolding me and dropped me off somewhere.”
Those gorgeous cinnamon eyes of his stared as he weighed his options. He didn’t have many. It all depended on how much she’d learned about their location and whether or not if he was a cold-blooded killer.
“I want to let you go, really I do. But I can’t. He got too close to me this time and I don’t know how he did it. I can’t have you leading him to me if I let you go.” He sounded genuinely apologetic and pleading with her to understand.
What she understood was the need to keep quiet. She couldn’t tell him Markus was unable to find Jackson without her help. She alone knew the tracer spell used to track him. If he thought the others could still find him then she had leverage, maybe a way to talk herself out of this situation.
“You know it’s just a matter of time before they find us. Markus won’t rest until he knows where I am. He’s my mentor.” She jutted out her chin, hoping this information worked for and not against her. If he thought killing or sacrificing her to demons would stop Markus from hunting him then she was in deep shit.
Jackson relaxed and chuckled, shocking her. Faint lines crinkled around his mouth and eyes showing he spent a fair amount of time laughing. He ran a hand through his thick hair, mussing it up further. Damn, he’d look so hot after a night of heavy loving.
Mind, gutter, out! She demanded, exasperated at her dirty thoughts.
“I’ve been on the run from him for several months now. Twice he's gotten close. That's it.” He strode to the door, his back to her (even his ass was nice!) for a moment before he whirled around. She flicked her eyes upwards. “This room’s so heavily warded the Coterie would be envious. No one has a clue about this place.”
Prowling towards the bed, he peered intently at her. “I need to exam you for any tracking spells and devices, including GPS. You’d be amazed at how many of the Coterie and our Enforcers can be tracked through their cell phones. Great way to avoid them too.”
He stepped closer, making her uncomfortably aware of the short distance between them. Her face level with his stomach, she saw the ripples of his muscle through his thin tee-shirt. If she reached out, it’d be all too easy to lift his shirt and run her fingers over his flesh. The temptation burned in her, enticing her. Just one touch to see if he was the same fascinating mixture of hard and silky soft as his bicep. She chided herself for ogling him again and tore her gaze away from his body.
Meeting his eyes, she noticed they were a tad vacant, focused on her, but not quite seeing her. He’d dropped into a slight trance to open his inner sight.
The ability to view the world and its inhabitants on the magical spectrum was present in all mages, some stronger than others. Some people called it the aura and in a basic sense it was. However, instead of seeing the essence of a person in colours, the etheric body showed the true self of that individual.
Everything connected to the person - be it emotions, spells woven upon the body or the inner core (the struggle between good and evil) - was visible while using the inner sight. Julia never realized how exposed and defenseless she felt with someone looking at her etheric body.
Squirming, she flushed with embarrassment. She’d been lusting for him while he’d examined her. Had he seen it, understood what it meant?
Nervous, she counted off her earrings, tracing each one. When she touched the pearl nestled in her tragus, she nearly sighed in relief. That one contained her mental shielding spell, a permanently running spell to mask her thoughts and emotions. While it was a rare mage who heard thoughts when using true sight, it would be just her luck if he was one of them.
Mental shielding was one of the first spells Julia had learned to imbue into a gem. As long as she wore the earring, it protected her. The permanency spell made it so she wouldn’t need to re-imbue it and unlike other imbued gems, it would never fade. Guarding her thoughts at all times was a must, lest one of her colleagues found out she was magic resistant.
The Coterie evaluated all mages at a young age then stamped them with a pass or fail. If they’re resistant, they’re executed on the spot. Diligent and rigorous testing ferreted out all those with the defective genetic code. Very few slipped through the cracks. Thankfully, it was an extremely rare condition.
She couldn’t imagine being the executioner, having to kill defenseless, innocent children. Did they regret it or see it as a job well done?
A benefactor had kept her safe during the testing period. He’d changed the results (how, she had no idea since they heavily guarded the tests), leaving her alive but regarded as lacking in magical talents. She’d heard the whispers, wondering why they saddled their strongest field mage, Markus, with a weak mage.
They had expected her to fail and perhaps even die young in a spell battle. Determined to prove them wrong, she poured all her energy into overcoming her genetic flaw. The past two decades she’d bolstered her weaker spells with her imbued earrings, hiding behind a careful façade. The whispers died down, fooled into believing she was a worthy partner for Markus.
Perhaps if she captured Jackson, she would prove her merit to herself.
A gleaming blade sliced through so swiftly it took a few moments for death to catch up. A scream silenced, eyes forever sightless.
Why were these memories plaguing her? She’d buried them eons ago along with any doubt to the mindless revulsion and unwarranted fear towards the magic resistant.
Frown lines appeared as Jackson continued staring at her. Her etheric body had confused him. As he focused back on the normal spectrum, he opened his mouth to speak and then firmly shut it. The awkward silence lengthened, annoying her and she couldn’t take it. Anxious, she shifted on the bed, digging her fingers into the blanket. Her nerves stretched thin from the battle and then being kidnapped.
“What? What did you see?” She demanded, trying to force his hand. He was unsettled and if she could keep him off-balanced it might work in her favour.
“The spells. They unraveled while I watched.” Jackson stepped away from her as if afraid she’d contaminate him. “I’ve spent a lot of time using inner sight. Saved my ass numerous occasions. But I’ve never seen spells unravel. They’ve faded, gotten weaker, but never… unraveled. What are you?” His last words held confusion and a hint of anger.
Damn it. She forgot to dispel all the magic on her. Spells wearing off was the sole way her etheric body looked different from other mages. Taught at a young age, she hid this fact, dispelled as quickly as possible when mages used inner sight on her. Getting caught “naked” was better than someone seeing the truth. How could she have been so careless?
Enforcers, as well as civilians, killed mages like her upon discovery, duty bound to so. Indoctrinated from birth, magic resistant meant evil. She’d spent many hours at school learning how corrupt, foul and malevolent she was due to a genetic anomaly. Considered a scourge to cleanse,
a threat to all mages, she hid in plain sight within the Enforcers’ ranks.
Now, granted, the last well-known magic resistant mage had killed hundreds of mages before they caught and executed him, though it seemed a bit extreme to punish an entire race for one crazy person. The theory was he went insane with jealousy since he was unable to cast and access magic as easily as a normal mage. He became delusional and thought “they” were out to get him. By the end, they were.
She had no idea how many like her existed, if she was the only one flying under the radar or if others were hiding out as well. One single person knew what she was and encouraged her to develop her talent - Keeper.
“I’m a mage, just like you.” Her tone forceful and a little brittle. It’d been a long time since she tried to explain away her difference and she wasn’t sure how much he'd accept.
Would a fugitive Enforcer feel the need to execute her? She didn’t want to find out.
Jackson looked unwilling to believe her. Somehow she was different, her etheric proved it but like most mages, he’d never run into someone like her before.
Surprise, surprise.
While the Coterie and the Academy teachers expounded on how they were vile creatures and must die, they never explained how to recognize a magic resistant mage. Shortsighted of them, ignoring such an important detail.
She wasn’t telling.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to tell him one of her secrets, one that would throw him off the scent. Also, a secret that wouldn’t get her killed. Her chest tightened and she had to force the words out. Hiding who she was and what she could do was second nature to her now.
“It’s my imbued earrings. One of them is a defensive spell to deflect inner sight. It makes it harder to truly see me.” Part of that was correct at least. Six earrings in each ear, they all contained different magical spells imbued into them. Time consuming, labour intensive and plain hard to do, the art of imbuing lost through the ages as most mages expended little energy casting their memorized spells. Why bother spending over a month creating an imbued gem when it was easier learning the spell?
She, on the other hand, spent too much energy to cast the simplest spell and sometimes they didn’t go correctly. Better to have backup spells, just in case.
Keeper had taught her the lost skill when she was twelve and continued to work with her to perfect the craft. Almost a decade passed before she imbued her first successful earring. A tiny glow of pride warmed her when she recalled her breakthrough. Discouraged, she thought that “Ah-ha!” moment would never happen. Keeper had been her staunch rock, her voice of strength. Without him, she would have quit the Enforcers, quit magic altogether. To finally have a spell stick, to recast it with the trigger word and the stone not exploding, had been exhilarating.
STUNNED, JACKSON SHOOK his head. He couldn’t conceive of someone having an imbued item. They wore out within two years of their creation, the last known ones created over two centuries ago. For someone to have working items, simply unheard of and nothing short of a miracle. Either it had permanency cast upon it, a difficult spell to learn and energy draining when used, or a mage still made them.
The imp, Xerix, was a different matter. Bound by summoning magic, it tied his essence to the diamond. Essentially a speed dial for demons. Instead of going through a long ritual to summon him, the ring immediately brought the imp forth. Creating a summoning ring took talent and only worked with lesser imps. Impossible to tame the more powerful ones in such a way.
“How...” He started, but trailed off, his mind racing over the possibilities. “Wait a minute, you said earrings, plural. Do you have more than one? What do they do? Holy shit, this is amazing. Where did you get imbued earrings?”
He forgot she was an injured Enforcer. Forgot she would turn him in as soon as possible. His insatiable thirst to learn, this burning need to expand his knowledge made him a great Enforcer. That is, before he poked where he shouldn’t have and it all blew up in his face. His damn curiosity had caused this blasted situation. He’d been researching a ring of demon traffickers, had gotten too close to them and they framed him.
It was a hell of a frame job too. If he didn’t know the truth, he would’ve believed it himself; the video evidence against him damning. Jackson had watched as “he” casted the summoning which had freed a nasty lesser demon. The demon killed three people before the Enforcers caught and banished it.
Bile raised in his throat as he recalled the gruesome crime scenes with body parts scattered about, some pieces missing as the demon had taken its pound of flesh - literally.
A hard stare, stony and obstinate, met his words. An expression he was familiar with, one perfected by every Enforcer. He'd get no answers with direct questions. Another approach might gain some clarity for him.
“What's your name? I'm sure you're aware I'm Jackson Thorne. I doubt there isn’t a mage alive who doesn’t know who I am.” Resentment burned in him. Training told him to follow the trail. He’d wanted to do the right thing and it had shattered his life.
“It’s Julia. Julia Hill.” She spoke so low he almost didn’t hear her. Looking away from him, she was nervous yet trying to hide it. His heart pounded and he swallowed the lump threatening to choke him. As a rule, he didn’t care about other people’s opinions about him.
Growing up in the care of the Enforcer Academy with no parents to sooth his hurts, he’d developed a thick skin. He’d learned to rely on himself and a small handful of friends. Why should it matter if this Enforcer thought he was capable of harming her? At best, she was an unfortunate victim of circumstances. At worse, she was a trap, left behind to entice him.
He glared at her as this new suspicion crowded his mind, pushing aside any softer emotions. Could Markus have set him up? Would he have left his partner helpless while casting the Devouring Plague on the faint hope Jackson would take her with him? Was Markus that devious? Jackson almost snorted out loud. Of course he was.
With new eyes, he studied Julia. Cute in a young, innocent way, she appeared to be in her early twenties. Looks were deceiving with mages, though. She could be several hundred years old and not show it.
Guileless brown eyes stared at the opposite white wall as her teeth worried her lower lip and her hands clasped tight in her lap. Those enticing chocolate strands of hair caressed her cheek and he clenched his fist. His gaze dropped, skimming over her full breasts (okay, fine, he lingered), down her flat belly and fantasized about gripping her sexy hips.
Damn it, he was ogling her like a horny teenager. He was not a slave to his lower half. Did his body not realize she was potential bait to trap him?
Dragging his mind away from his dirty thoughts, he flexed his fingers. The same fingers that still tingled from holding her silky smooth ankle. Recalling her injury reminded him his healing had washed over her. A first for him. Sure, he didn’t excel in the healing arts, however it’d been a simple enough spell to cast. Her ankle sprained with no breaks or ripped ligaments, a few minor scratches on her face. It should have worked.
The puzzle of Julia became more complex than he first assumed. All inside pieces and no edges.
His life already had too many complications. Figuring out who was trying to frame him and who was running the demon trafficking ring was enough for any sane man to deal with. So why did he find himself wondering about her, her past, how she came into possession of those earrings and why his healing didn’t work? And was she a distraction from Markus?
He had a feeling it would take all his persuasive powers to get her to talk. Enforcers didn’t crack under pressure, part of their training consisted of withstanding torture. Not that he could stomach the thought of torturing her. Breaking her, destroying her will, didn’t sit right with him.
She’d earned his respect. The battle against the Fae hadn't fazed her. Holding her own, she fought with him against improbable odds. She didn’t falter until the end when she collapsed due to exhaustion. Not once through it all did she whine or compla
in.
He studied her profile, wondering what she had to hide. While Enforcer training including reading body language and looking for the unspoken truth, they also trained Enforcers to mask those telltale signs. She was uncomfortable about something and it overrode her training. It made him more determined to find what skeletons she hid in her closet.
“Why didn’t my healing work?” He watched her carefully and caught the minuscule twitch she gave at his question. She turned to glare at him. Anger caused a faint blush to appear along her cheek and gold flecks danced amongst the brown in her eyes.
“Yeah, like I’m going to tell you. Why would I share anything with the person who kidnapped me?” She snapped at him. Clichéd yes, he had to admit anger suited her. It turned her from cute to sexy.
She paused for a moment and he saw a flicker of horror. “Oh no, my parents. They’re gonna freak out. Markus must've told them by now. Please, you need to let me call them. It’s not like I know where we are. Please!”
The desperation in her voice seemed genuine. Shame washed over him. Rare for a day to go by without him checking in with his friends. Both as a precaution and so they didn’t worry about him. He felt horrible he’d caused distress for both Julia and her family.
Jackson weighed his options and the consequences of letting her call then said screw it. He had a burner phone with the GPS locator turned off. Simple enough to destroy it once she completed the call. He pulled the phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it.
“You can not mention my name at all. Tell them where you are or who you’re with and I’ll cut off the call. Then they’ll have more reason to worry. Play nice and you can reassure them you’re fine.”
His eyes bored into hers as he watched for any sign of deceit. She nodded in earnest, curls dancing around her face, and held out her hand for the phone.
Standing a few feet away from the bed, he listened intently to her side of the conversation. Privacy wasn’t an option. She gave him her back as she dialed the number.
Magic Resistant Page 4
