Witch Fury ew-4

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Witch Fury ew-4 Page 13

by Anya Bast


  “Nothing I didn’t know already. He said stay on you. We’re mated, you and I. Inseparable from here on out.” Great. She had catnip just out of her reach 24/7 now.

  “Mated, huh. Wow, and here I never really wanted to get married.” She set the coffee cup down. “Can I pee by myself?” “Please do.”

  “How about shower?”

  “Yeah. We’re not getting ridiculous about it.” She set her empty cup down and pushed up from the table. “My turn.” Her knees went weak, and he was there in a second, steadying her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Just got up too fast.” She shook her head, walking to the bathroom. “I hope Bai stays away today, though.” “I hope Bai stays away forever.”

  She looked up at him, a weak smile passing over her lips. “Not much chance of that.” I simply want you. That’s what Bai had said. The words hung heavily between herself and Theo, unspoken.

  So when did an Atrika ever not get what he wanted?

  SHE CAME OUT OF THE BATHROOM RIGHT WHEN Theo was walking down the hall to his bedroom. “Oh, sorry.” He crowded her a little against the wall and Sarafina didn’t have time to wonder if it was on purpose before all the saliva in her mouth dried up. His breath eased over her shoulder and his chest rubbed against hers. Under her shirt, her nipples hardened.

  He stayed that way. Right. Up. Against. Her.

  “Uh, listen, Theo. I know you said we had to stay close, but does it have to be this close?” Her gaze flicked down to his towel.

  “Does my state of dress bother you?” His voice rumbled out of him and reverberated deep within her.

  She tried really hard not to stare at his chest. “I think you mean your state of undress, and let’s just say that you walking around like that might give me a heart attack. If you wanted, you could save Bai all the work.” “That would be a pity, but I’m happy to know I affect you that way.” She snorted. “You’d affect any woman that way. The charming thing about you, Theo, is you don’t know it.” He reached out and took a strand of her hair between his fingers. She had no nerve endings in her hair, but that didn’t matter. Sarafina felt that touch straight down to her toes. “You scared me last night. Bad. You take risks that I don’t like, Sarafina.” “Why do you care what risks I take? You barely know me.” “Maybe I know you better than you think.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Maybe I’m starting to like you, too.” Her heart rate kicked up a bit. “I didn’t think you liked anyone.” “You thought wrong.” His gaze was intense, like every part of Theodosius Winters. He said nothing more, but his eyes had gone dark and that said everything. His pupils were dilated, which meant he was turned on.

  She glanced down and hooked her freshly dried hair behind her ear. “Listen—” He pulled her up against his chest and kissed her. His mouth slanted over hers and consumed her gasp of surprise. There was no sweet tasting like there had been last time, this was all taking. Her hand pressed against his chest as he parted her lips and slid his tongue in to brush against hers. Sarafina’s knees went a little weak at the hot taste of him.

  Theo broke the kiss after a moment, but kept her there, pressed against him.

  “We have to stop doing this.” Her voice came out a little breathless.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think we can.”

  How right he was. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere inside her, but what he did next stopped her from voicing it. He pulled her into his bedroom.

  Straight to his bed.

  She landed on his mattress, and he came down on top of her. His mouth came back down on hers for round two.

  The man didn’t do anything halfway and that included kissing.

  She wiggled beneath him and made a sound deep in her throat. Theo lifted his head and stared down at her. “I can’t think of a reason to stop right now, but I’ve been trying not to do this,” he murmured.

  “I like this.” “You’re willing to take your chances, then?” He nipped at her lower lip, sucking it into the hot recesses of his mouth and then dragging it through his teeth.

  Oh. That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. It was hard to form words, but she had to try. This was important. “Just one woman isn’t women, Theo.” She was thinking of Ingrid. “And it wasn’t your fault.” “Ingrid wasn’t the first. Neither of them were my fault, but they both turned up dead, anyway.” He nibbled the tender place where her shoulder met her throat, then dragged the flat of his tongue over the tiny bite mark he’d left.

  She gasped, then moaned. “Coincidence. Superstition.” His kiss left her sex feeling warm and wet. She wanted more, would do anything to get it. “Please, don’t stop, Theo.” He ran his hand from her collarbone down over her breast and cupped it. Her nipple went hard and tight against his palm, stabbing up through the material of her shirt. Staring into her eyes, he stroked it, teasing along every ridge and valley until she bucked beneath him and sank her teeth into her lower lip.

  “How do you like to be touched, Sarafina?” he murmured. “Do you like it when a man strokes your breasts and sucks on your nipples?” “Ah,” she breathed. “All of the above.” Theo grinned wickedly. “Okay, then.” He pushed the hem of her shirt upward and pulled it over her head. Her bra was gone in an instant, leaving her bare from the waist up, exposed to Theo’s hungry, roving gaze.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Sarafina,” he murmured.

  Then his mouth descended on her breasts and he showed her just how much he believed what he’d just said.

  FIFTEEN

  LUST CRUISED THROUGH HER BODY AS HIS LIPS closed around the peak of her nipple. She squirmed a little beneath him and he grabbed her wrists in one of his broad hands before pressing them to the mattress above her head. Then he forced her body to bow toward him, lowering his mouth once again to her breast.

  His tongue followed every ridge and valley, every pucker and peak until she was barely able to keep quiet. She’d never come from just a man’s tongue on her nipple, but Theo was close to making her.

  Then he did the same thing to her other breast.

  She moved her hips on the bed. The sight of his dark head working over her and the feel of his long silky hair brushing along her skin was almost enough to make her crazy.

  “Theo,” she murmured. “You’re killing me. This is. . this is—” “Me, making you come.”

  He moved his hand between her thighs, finding her clit through the material of her clothing. With perfect, expert motions, he circled it, using the seam of her jeans to rub against the swollen, sensitive area. Pleasure arced through her body, bowing her spine. Theo rode her through it, making it go on and on.

  The climax came to a gentle, rolling halt, leaving Sarafina feeling boneless. “Theo,” she whispered. He’d released her wrists, so she guided his face to hers. God, she wanted to return the favor. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on him.

  But his facial expression was tight where she was sure hers was languorous and anticipatory. It was odd how clearly she could read his emotions right now. His mask was completely gone — burned away — replaced by a roiling sea of intense desire and anger.

  Sarafina lifted her head, suddenly very aware of her nakedness, where a moment ago she hadn’t been at all. “Theo, what’s wrong?” “I didn’t want to push this far with you.” Well, hell, she wanted to push further.

  Sarafina braced herself up on her elbows. “You started this, not me.” She sounded like a seven-year-old, but she didn’t care. He’d given her a taste of him and now she wanted more. That was his fault.

  “I know I did. Apparently, no matter how hard I try, I can’t resist you.” He got up and pulled on a pair of sweats, then sat down on the edge of the bed and pushed a hand through his hair. “Then last night you scared me so bad, made me crazy. I had to touch you today.” “So let me touch you back.”

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  Sarafina sat up, pulling the blanket over her. “Look, Theo. .” In the living room
, Theo’s cell phone rang. He retrieved it and gave a snarling, “Yeah,” into the receiver.

  She collapsed back onto the mattress as Theo spoke to whoever was on the other end in low, forceful tones. Then silence.

  She raised her head and saw Theo standing in the doorway.

  “Thomas wants to talk to us.”

  THEO STOOD BY THE WINDOW AT THE FAR END OF THE Coven library trying really hard not to hurl something through the floor-to-ceiling glass. He’d known this was coming. As soon as Sarafina had mentioned it to Thomas, Theo had known Thomas would take her up on her offer.

  Thomas Monahan was a good man, but the Coven always came first. He’d put Sarafina at risk to gain information.

  In a heartbeat.

  “So even though Bai attacked her here at the Coven, you’re still willing to send her back to the Duskoff.” Theo spoke without turning around to face Thomas and Sarafina. His voice was hard. Right now all he could do was stare straight ahead and use all his willpower to resist destroying something.

  “Not long term. I just want her to go in for a day or so and I want you to go with her,” said Thomas.

  “I want to find out what Bai wants me for.” Sarafina countered Theo in a combative tone.

  Theo snorted. “And you think Stefan is just going to tell you?” “He might if I offer something in return. He knows the Coven got to me. I can offer to give him information.” “You’re not prepared for this. Last night proved it.” Sarafina sighed. “Theo, Bai is coming for me one way or another. There’s no place to hide, no place to run. I feel better meeting this head on.” Theo turned to face her. Last night had made him realize just how much he was coming to care for her. This drove him insane — watching her march herself right into a nest of black mamba. “Do you even know where Stefan and the Duskoff are right now?” “New York,” answered Thomas. “Stefan hightailed it back to headquarters after the raid on the farmhouse. You’ll have to go there.” “How do you know?”

  “Mira. She can’t hear anything within the warding, but she notices it when Stefan moves somewhere and comes out from behind Duskoff walls. She’s tuned to him and he knows it. He’s not making any slips, unfortunately, though Mira will be there if he does.” “I’m going in with her. I’ll cut my hair and—” “You will not!” That came from Sarafina. “I won’t allow you to cut your hair, Theo.” “I’m not sure I can work up a charm powerful enough to disguise it.” Sarafina shook her head. “No way. I know that’s where you store a lot of your spells and charms. I’m not letting you diminish your power base for me.” “I’d rather help keep you alive than have my power base at full flush.” He reconsidered. “I’ll work on a charm today and see if I can come up with something. If I can’t, it’s coming off.” “Do that,” said Thomas. He fingered his own hair, tied at his nape. His hair, also a part of his power storage, had been shorn on Eudae by the Ytrayi. “It takes a damn long time for it to grow back in. Either way, I want you both on a plane tomorrow morning.”

  THE NEXT DAY SARAFINA WALKED WITH THEO UP the steps of a tall granite building in Manhattan. The large sign in the square in front of the skyscraper read DUSKOFF INTERNATIONAL.

  It gave Sarafina chills to see firsthand just how entrenched and established the warlocks were in the human world. Duskoff International was a powerhouse of a company, privately owned by the Crane family until just recently when it had been taken public — owing to Stefan Faucheux’s greed, undoubtedly. The stock price was sky high. Sarafina knew next to nothing about the business world and even she knew all that.

  Who would be able to believe that warlocks sat in the boardroom? Three weeks ago she never would’ve.

  They’d left for New York yesterday and settled into the swank that was the Hotel Indigo in Soho. Thomas Monahan had a place here in New York, but staying there was out of the question. They weren’t sure if the Duskoff had the place under surveillance, but they probably did. Grosset was back in Chicago, staying with Claire and Adam.

  Theo had been able to design a convincing glamour for himself. Just an hour earlier in their hotel room Sarafina had watched him drink the foul-smelling concoction and stared in awe as it worked.

  Apparently, glamour charms weren’t easy to make. Only earth witches as powerful as Theo, Thomas, and Micah, three of the strongest in the Coven, could concoct them.

  On the downside, the charms were fragile and only lasted about twenty-four hours. By this time tomorrow the magick would erode and the carriage would turn back into a pumpkin. . not that Theo’s body could be compared to a pumpkin. And there was no re-creating the charm and altering your appearance exactly the same way again. These were onetime deals, suitable more for novelty than espionage.

  The upside was, wow, the changes wrought were impressive.

  Theo hadn’t been able to create the illusion that his hair was shorter, but it was a different color now — a blond nearly as light as her own. His skin was lighter, too, less swarthy Italian and more winter-loving Nordic.

  The charm had made him seem shorter and a bit less bulky — less aggressive, all around. It had softened the brutal, grim lines of his face, curving the granite-hewn edge of his jaw and making his lips thinner and his mouth less expressive. It had smoothed his forehead and relaxed the severe set of his eyebrows. His pupils were blue now, transformed with a pair of ordinary colored contacts, but his eyes still revealed every breeze disturbing the ocean of his emotions.

  It was eerie just how much Theo did not resemble himself. Yet his severity and seriousness somehow seemed to radiate out from the charmed suit he wore, ruining the illusion of harmlessness he’d been striving for.

  “They’ll make sure I’m separated from you first thing,” he said in a low voice when they reached the frosted double glass doors. “You’ll be on your own, but I won’t be far away.” “So what do I do if they try to kill me?” “Retaliate. You have fire.” He paused. “Oh, and scream real loud.” “Great,” she muttered as they pulled the doors open. Why the hell had she volunteered for this again? Oh, yeah, she was the Coven’s best chance for information.

  Hell, she wanted some of her own, too.

  The lobby was sleek and polished and filled with people in business suits. It looked like any other office building on a Tuesday morning, bustling with commerce and with the scent of greed heavy in the air. Apparently, not all their employees were warlocks. Many of the lower-tier people were non-magickals with no clue about the sort of otherworldly dealings this conglomerate dealt in. Amazing.

  They approached the receptionist’s desk. She was most certainly a warlock. Sarafina could almost feel heat coming off her — fire. The two security guards standing near the desk were warlocks, too. She was a young redhead — fitting for the element she commanded. The guards eyed them with mocking expressions on their faces, probably recognizing them as kindred magickals, yet not their kind.

  The receptionist raised her gaze to them as they approached, a pair of stylish square glasses perched on her pert little nose. The nameplate on her desk read BELINDA. “Can I help you?” “We’d like to see Stefan Faucheux,” answered Sarafina. She’d dressed up for the occasion, a Ralph Lauren black wool sheath dress and a matching pair of Prada peep-toe pumps, all provided by Thomas Monahan. She’d done her hair up high on her head and had taken a lot of time with her makeup. She knew she looked like she belonged here. If only her friends back in Bowling Green could see her now.

  Belinda blinked. “Do you have an appointment?” “No, he’s not expecting us.”

  The receptionist snorted delicately. “Do you think he sees just anyone?” A delicate sneer seemed to be a natural part of her voice. She gave Theo a sloe-eyed once-over, a woman’s assessment of a man. From the speculative look on her face, she found him to her liking. A flare of totally misplaced possessiveness rose up in Sarafina.

  Sarafina smiled saccharine sweet and leaned in a little. “He’ll see me. Tell him Sarafina is here.” Belinda gave her a dirty look. “Do you have a last name?” Saraf
ina tilted her head to the side and batted her eyelashes a couple times. “Do you really think with a name like Sarafina I need to give it? Stefan will know who I am.” The receptionist’s lip curled, but she reached for the phone. “There’s some Southern woman here named Sarafina who says Mr. Faucheux will see her without delay.” The last words dripped with sarcasm. “She’s got a Mr. — ” She covered the phone with her hand and looked at Theo. Suddenly, she wore a dazzling smile. “What’s your name?” “James Anwar.” He waited a beat. “We’re from the Chicago Coven.” The woman jerked a little and paled, her smile gone. “You’re Coven witches?” “At the moment. That’s what we’ve come to discuss with Mr. Faucheux,” Theo answered.

  The person on the other end said something and Belinda glanced at Sarafina, then turned away and spoke low into the mouthpiece. She set the receiver back into its cradle and looked up at them. “Tell the elevator operator you want the thirteenth floor.” They thanked her and walked across the busy foyer to the bank of elevators on the other side.

  The thirteenth floor wasn’t even on the menu of options, Sarafina noted when they entered one of the elevator cars. Theo undoubtedly knew that already since he’d fought in the big battle waged in this building several years ago, the one in which Mira Hoskins had sent William Crane careening out one of the top-story windows with a blast of air.

  She glanced at Theo, standing beside her in the elevator with his hands clasped in front of him. His malevolent gaze was fastened completely on the back of the head of the elevator operator — a warlock. Theo had been here before. . and killed here before. At the moment, despite his disguise, he looked like he wanted to kill again.

  As if it were some bizarre inside joke, Marilyn Manson’s “I Put a Spell on You” played in the background — the elevator music version. Cute, really cute.

 

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