Or worse, if Markus caught wind of his hiding location.
Now there was a mage who wouldn’t give up, willing and able to tear the city apart for someone he cared about. Jackson, along with the rest of the Enforcers, knew once Markus gave his loyalty, it was near impossible to break and he’d do anything for someone he cared about.
Sure, he was a hard-hearted bastard and fucking scary when in a rage, which is what made him a great ally. Kidnapping his partner was one of the stupidest things Jackson’s ever done.
Part of him wanted to release her, let her go back to the safety of her family. However, with the werewolves tracking their scent, she wouldn’t be safe. Someone would let their guard down, forgetting how patient wolves were on a hunt.
The thought of her hurt tore at him.
“I’m sorry.” He dragged his hand through his hair and leaned against the small table.
“It’s not your fault. Whoever framed you is at fault. Blame them, not yourself.” She reached over to squeeze his hand and then quickly let go. “Although we do need to figure out how they found us. We can’t stay holed up here indefinitely.”
She was right, of course. He couldn’t spend his time hiding here worried they’d get trapped again.
A mage was working with the werewolves. It wasn’t possible for a werewolf to blanket an area with silence. The question was, why would a mage, perhaps an Enforcer, enlist the help of werewolves? Sure, they occasionally worked together, but a traitor was personal business. Mage Enforcers would not want to advertise how badly they’d lost control of one of their own. The wonders of politics and power plays.
“Oh damn, I should’ve thought of it earlier.” He snapped his fingers and pushed off from the table. “I'll call Sylvia. She’s a werewolf friend, an Enforcer as well.”
Each major power in the Coterie had their own team of Enforcers except for the Demons and Fae. They had no say in policing Earth as this wasn’t their plane of existence. The Enforcers helped to control the supernatural populace and carried out the rules of the Coterie.
Thirteen ruling members of government made it difficult sometimes to figure out which team of Enforcers to send when a citizen went rogue. It depended on the race of the attacker and the victim. However, majority of the time, the powers-that-be concerned themselves with their own race.
He grabbed a burner phone from his back pocket and dialed her number from memory. A few days had passed since they’d spoken.
“Hey, it’s me.” Positive they’d tapped her phones, he avoided using his name.
The squeal bursting from the phone almost made his ear bleed and he pulled it away to lessen the noise, staring at it in confusion.
“Sylvia, what in the nine hells is going on?” Her exceptional hearing would pick up his words with ease. Was she in trouble too? Bubbly and laid-back, she rarely freaked out. She hadn’t batted an eye when he poured out his crazy tale to her the night of the demon killings. Calm and with a smile, she helped him hide, laying a false trail for him.
“Oh my goodness, oh thank goodness, you’re okay. When news reached me about the clean-up crew, I was so afraid.” Words tripped over themselves, almost impossible to understand and he placed the phone next to his ear again.
“Calm down. I need to know what’s happening and you’re talking so fast you might hyperventilate.” Adrenaline raced through his body causing his heart to painfully thud against his chest. He paced the room, trying to work it off.
“I’m okay. Just worried about you... and your friend. A warning on the bodies told us to stay away. You’re both under the protection of Revenant.”
“What?! Revenant? The Revenant?! Are you serious? Oh shit, that can’t be good.” Again his fingers raked through his hair as he tried to grasp the implications of Revenant’s involvement.
Julia snickered a little, drawing Jackson’s attention to her.
“Revenant? Honestly, he’s calling himself a ghost? Who is this person? I hope the Ghostbusters don’t find him.” She laughed again, but quieted at his haunted expression.
“Revenant is no joke. He’s the most feared person in the underworld. Trained killers quake at the thought of him. He has single-handedly brought down several crime organizations because they encroached on his territory. He has destroyed untouchable people because they openly mocked him. And now his attention is on us. How have you never heard of him?” He stared at her, amazed at her ignorance.
Everyone spoke about Revenant in hushed tones from the Coterie leaders on down to the lowest of Enforcers. Someone not knowing about him, truly mind boggling. He shook his head briefly and brought his attention to the issue at hand.
“Sylvia, tell me everything you know, please.”
“Well, I didn’t get the initial instructions since it was only for the clean-up crew.” A polite way of saying werewolf assassins.
All the messy pack work went to the assassins (many of whom are unknown by the other members) and considered untouchable as they followed orders by their leader. Much of the pack communication occurred over the telepathic link established and bridged through the pack alpha. He then controlled who got a message through that link.
“After they found our members in the alley way, everyone in the pack received notice to leave you two alone. The message left on the bodies heard only by us werewolves.”
Jackson interrupted, “Wait, what do you mean bodies? They were alive when we left them. One was bleeding from a gut wound, but he would have healed from it.”
“They weren’t alive when the police arrived. Their throats torn out and the bodies left in the open, I presume for them to be found quickly. We’re thinking it was Revenant since he left a message with them. You are now persona non grata with the pack. No one is to talk to you, help you, or engage with you. I could get in a lot of shit just for talking to you. But, that also means the pack is no longer tracking you. From what I’ve learned, no one was able to find you two, so they asked our clean-up to track through scent. They broke into your home, took your scent and then stationed themselves all across the city and have been for the past two weeks. They hired mages to set traps as soon as they detected you. Although the plan wasn’t death, just to capture you.”
Sylvia sighed, the sound carrying her worry for Jackson. “Then, from what I’ve gathered, about two days ago, those instructions changed and you’re kill on sight. Again, the message only went to our clean-up and I’m hearing all this secondhand. I don’t know who sent out the message though. Derek is denying it.”
The pack leader for the Ontario region, Derek lived in Toronto and not much happened in his territory without his permission. Either he was lying, or it went higher than him. Another Top Alpha could piggy back on the pack link although difficult to do and hard to hide. One of the Werewolf Coterie leaders could also use the link as they had a connection to every werewolf in the world.
“Holy shit.” Jackson muttered. It explained the lone werewolf at Union Station. They rarely ever travelled alone, preferring to stay in small groups. “I guess that clarifies how they trapped us so damn fast. Look, Sylvia, thanks for the help. Now forget you ever talked to me.”
“Hey, I don’t think so! I’ve been in this since day one. No way am I backing off. The appointment is still set.” Her tone unyielding and familiar. Arguing would be useless. Sylvia appeared sweet and docile, but her backbone was unyielding. She had to be tough in order to survive as a Werewolf Enforcer. Their training focused on physical strength and the ability to withstand pain. Some days, he thought it bordered on torture.
“Okay, fine, I know how stubborn you are, so I’ll shut up. And thank you.” He ended the call, no closer to any answers. It made no sense for Revenant to protect them. He never helped Jackson before.
Revenant was a wild card, an unknown that worried him. What was his end game? Who was he trying to protect and why?
As he tried to puzzle this out, he gazed over at Julia and stifled a gasp. Bruises were forming on her shoulders and upper
arms. He winced at a particularly large one turning a bright shade of purple and blue. The thought he could have lost her gnawed at him. At the same time, her calm acceptance of the whole situation amazed him.
Not once did she become hysterical or burst into tears. She kept a level head and figured out a way to safely arrive at the hostel while he had an uncharacteristic anxiety attack. The adrenaline rush combined with his worry over Julia had caused his brain to short-circuit.
Now admittedly, the women he usually dealt with were hysterical from a demon attack. And maybe that skewed their normal reactions under pressure. Demons running amok weren’t a normal occurrence, as most of the incompetent summoners found themselves eaten as punishment. Yet, enough of them slipped their leases, warranting in a special division of mages.
He had a feeling a demon wouldn’t faze Julia. Cool and calm, smart and resourceful.
Unable to stop himself, he crossed the room and lightly ran his hand down her arm.
“Let me heal you. Those look nasty and soon your arms will be too stiff to use.” She nodded and closed her eyes. Several healing sessions made this a familiar routine. He had no idea why she needed to concentrate when he was the one channeling the magic. Perhaps for comfort?
Her skin soft and warm under his hand, he gathered the energy needed, just a small amount as it was a small spell. The magic twisted and swirled within him, trying to release itself. He shaped it into the desired effect. The effort required to create a simple healing spell was more taxing than a complex destructive spell. It’d always been this way for him.
Magic on its own wasn’t good or evil; however the intent of the wielder influenced the energy. Healers were generally gentle souls and their healing magnified by their desire to help. Jackson dealt with rogue demons. There was no gentleness left in his soul.
Warmth poured from his fingers into Julia’s flesh and her bruises vanished immediately. Well, that was a first. Desire to sooth away her pain must have boosted his feeble healing spell.
“How does that feel?” He ran his fingers along her arm and up to her shoulder. Her mouth parted and a wistful sigh escaped. Those lush lips begged him, enticed him.
Her eyes drifted open, dazed and dreamy, and she smiled. “Fantastic. Thank you.”
Pleasing this woman was an addiction. He’d do almost anything for that smile.
Unable to stop himself, his head dipped down and he captured her mouth, taking advantage of her parted lips. A moment’s hesitance before she stroked her tongue against his.
Hands tightening on her shoulders, he pulled her in close, savouring the feel of her softer curves pressed against him. Lower, his hands drifted to grip her ass, squeezing and kneading.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he trailed kisses down her neck. He inhaled deeply, his senses full of her jasmine and strawberry scent. “You are so damn amazing.”
Gasping, Julia brought her hands up and he thought she would push him away. He braced himself for the rejection. If she did so, he’d release her without protest. It might kill him, but he’d do it. He’d rather cut off his own arm than hurt her.
When had she become so important to him?
Relief coursed through him when she twined her arms around his neck, encouraging him to continue. Grabbing the hem of her tank top, he inched it upwards, giving her time to stop him. He nearly laughed when she grew impatient and yanked it upwards, tearing it off. She tossed the material over her head.
Any thoughts of laughing fled his mind as he stared at the pale flesh encased in a dark purple bra. Reverently, he cupped her breasts, watching them plump up before lowering his head. A kiss, lick and nibble, adoring her.
A surprised grunt escaped him when her breasts bounced against face. Confused, he drew his head back. Julia gave him a wicked grin as she finished shimmying out of her tight shorts.
“Sorry, someone decided I should wear painted on shorts.” One final bounce and she was free. Disappointment warred with pleasure. Watching her breasts jiggle could easily become his favourite pastime. If he asked nicely, would she do it again?
He grinned back. “Oh, that person should be punished. A spanking?”
He yelped when Julia followed up on his teasing and smacked his ass.
“Oh poor darling. Should I rub it better for you?” She kissed his chin. Her dark brown eyes gleaming with excitement and desire, flecks of molten gold dancing amongst the chocolate. A flush stained her cheeks bright red, her lips pouty from his kiss.
It took all his control not to strip her naked and burying himself inside her. He wanted to take it slow, worship her delectable body.
“I’d rather you rub something else better. Perhaps a kiss or two for soothing.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, delighting in her throaty laughter.
“Only a kiss or two? Sure you wouldn’t want some licking or sucking? I heard that can be soothing as well.” She demonstrated on his neck. By the time she made her way to sucking, he was grinding his hard erection into her. This woman would be the death of him and he was going out with a smile on his face.
“That…” He said as he spun her around, his tongue flicking her ear. “Was not soothing at all. Arousing, hot, sexy as hell, yes, but definitely not soothing.”
Chapter Nine
LUST, BURNING HOT, consumed Julia. Teasing Jackson was incredibly erotic as was his tenuous control. She wanted to push him over the edge. His chest pressed into her back. Hot hands gripped her bare arms. One hand swept her hair over to the side and his breath burned the back of her neck. She shivered, goosebumps covering her exposed flesh.
Lightly brushing her skin with his lips, he asked “Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret this.”
“Yes. Oh, yes.” She almost begged him. Weeks of torment, of watching and wanting him overwhelmed any coherent thought.
He closed the gap between her neck and his mouth and she moaned in bliss. A nip of his teeth, sensual and raw. Her nipples hardened, begging for attention. Hands now behind her, she grabbed his butt, digging into his taunt flesh.
Lifting his shirt, her greedy fingers skimmed across his flat stomach, that sexy stomach she’d fantasized about touching and licking. Would he find it odd if she dripped water on him just to lick it off? Beads of water sliding down his flesh had kept her awake and needy more nights than she wanted to admit.
Grasping his hips, she drew him closer, the hard ridge of him solid and unyielding against her lower back. He rotated his hips and her knees weakened.
His hands drifted lower and played with the edge of her thong. A finger slipped under and gently stroked her heated flesh while the other hand moved back up and cupped her breast. Squeezing and teasing her nipple through her bra.
Turning her around, Jackson kissed her, invading her mouth. She burrowed her fingers into his hair, the thick strands silky against her skin. He bit her lower lip, sucking on it. Cupping her bottom, he brought her close, spreading her legs. She rubbed against his hard erection, shuddering at the force of desire flooding her.
He gave her one last hard kiss before dropping to his knees. A kiss on her hip, a lick on the crease of her inner thigh. Turning his head, hot breath fanned across her fabric covered clitoris. Her thong pushed to one side as he leisurely licked his way up her, ending with a flick of his tongue on her sensitive parts. Sliding down the scrap of fabric, he helped lift one leg so her foot rested on the bed, exposing her completely to him. He brought his face close to her, a deep inhale and then moaned with pleasure.
“Oh yes...” He whispered against her, his tongue darting out. “I could do this all night.”
She curled her fingers through his hair, pulling tight, encouraging him to continue. If he stopped, she might have to kill him. He obliged with a few more licks before sliding a finger in to test her wetness.
Her legs shook. She gripped his shoulders to keep upright. Slowly, so slowly, torturing her with pleasure, he pushed another finger in and moved to her rhythm. A few moments had her panting, her knees threaten
ing to buckle. A final lick before he stood, a pleased smile stretching his brilliant mouth.
“Here, let me help with the rest of your clothes.” He said as his fingers nimbly unclasped her bra and watched it fall to the ground with obvious satisfaction. He cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his thumbs and fingers. A little tug, sharp and sweet, before he bent down to suck on one. Watching him, his mouth on her, tasting her, was almost too much. On the edge, ready to freefall.
Reaching for his button, she unsnapped his pants, pushing them down. Waiting, going slow and easy, was no longer an option. Hard and fast, deep and pounding, she needed him inside her. Grasping the bottom of his shirt, she tugged it upwards. He didn’t want to let go of her nipple, sucking harder, gently biting, but at her insistence, he lifted his head. Yanking it off, desperate for him, she threw the shirt away, uncaring where it landed.
Stepping out of his pants, moving closer to her, his hard flesh rubbed against her. Spasms in her belly, a delicious tingle between her legs. Arms wrapped around her, he held her tight and deliberately walked her backwards until her legs touched the edge of the bed. Sitting down, she scooted over, waiting for him to join her.
She drank in his muscled, proud body, the flex of his thighs as he knelt on the bed. Crawling towards her, his eyes fixated on her breasts, his fingers trailing up her thighs. Was it possible to orgasm from anticipation alone?
Wet heat demanded attention and her hand drifted lower as her thighs parted. She dropped on to the pillows, arching her back, unsure which part of her body needed him first.
“That’s it, darling, touch yourself. Show me where you want me to touch you.” His growl encouraged her to dip lower, spreading her hot flesh to rub at her aching clitoris. Cupping her breast with her other hand, she teased her already erect nipple, needing his mouth on her.
“Please, I want you. I need you.” She hardly recognized her own voice, arousal making it husky and low.
Magic Resistant Page 9
