I bit my lip. “You may have mentioned that.”
He inhaled another ragged breath. “This is going to be harder than I thought. It’s torture not being able to touch you.”
I spied the items he had at his side. “Are you going to use those?”
He nodded. “Lie back,” he said hoarsely. “And let me know if the dark power starts responding. If it does, I’ll stop, but if it doesn’t…”
I shivered.
He growled in response.
Wearing only my shorts, I lay back on the warm sheets, but the cool air still made my flesh pebble.
Logan shifted. “I’m going to put this over your eyes so you can concentrate entirely on feeling what I’m doing to you.” He lifted the strip of cloth, which I realized he intended to use as a blindfold.
My core tightened more when Logan slipped the blindfold around my face. The world became as dark as ink, but then his warm breath puffed against my neck.
“Can you see me?”
I panted shallowly, anticipation making me restless. “No.”
“Good, now just relax.” His soft breath tickled my skin. He was close, so close, and his breath was so sweet.
My chest rose and fell in shallow pants as something soft trailed down my arm. I gasped more in surprise than anything. Tingles raced up my neck when the soft feather tickled along my collar bone, trailed across my bare chest, and then grazed down my other arm.
I shivered again, not realizing something as simple as a feather could create such a reaction.
Logan shifted, the bed dipping again. He trailed the feather back up, moving in the opposite direction as the feather left a trail of tingles in its path.
“Logan?” I said breathlessly.
“I’m here babe.” He inhaled deeply, and I knew he smelled my aroused scent.
Before I could say anything else, the feel of my shorts being tugged off came. “Lift your hips.”
I did as he said, and he slowly slid my shorts down. When finished, I heard them land on the floor.
Nothing covered me at the moment.
Nothing.
Well, except for the blindfold.
My breath was coming so fast that I thought I would hyperventilate.
“I can smell your arousal.” Logan’s sharp intake of breath followed. “Spread your legs,” he commanded hoarsely.
I did as he said, my legs slowly inching apart over the smooth sheets.
When my sex was entirely exposed, his ragged breathing filled the room. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
Another dip came in the bed as he shifted lower. When his hot breath puffed against my core, I cried out, arching off the bed. Before I could ask what he was going to do, something hot and wet slid up my slit, rubbing my clit before disappearing.
I bucked. “Logan!”
“Sorry, babe. I just had to taste you.”
I quivered, anticipation building in me like a storm. “Please,” I whimpered.
He chuckled. “Please what?”
“Touch me.” Naked on his bed, cool air continued to wash over me. Goose bumps pebbled my flesh, but that was nothing compared to the heat building in my core.
“Like this?” he whispered. He shifted again, the bed dipping near my side. Something cold and wet trailed along my chest. I shivered again. “Ice,” he whispered.
My nipples hardened into taut buds as Logan trailed the ice down around my areola. Another shiver struck me when he moved to my other tit.
“Cold?”
“No—” I gasped when the ice slid down my stomach. He circled it around my navel, teasing me. “Logan…” I squirmed.
“Yeah, babe?”
“I need…”
“Would you prefer something hotter?” he asked.
But I didn’t have a chance to respond before he slipped the ice down the center of my swollen sex. I cried out again, losing all coherent thought.
But as quickly as that sensation started, it stopped.
“Logan!” I panted.
The bed dipped again then his warm breath blew close to my ear. “Yes?”
“Please,” I begged again.
“I like the sound of that.”
He moved lower, the mattress dipping as he positioned himself between my legs. I shivered, my entire body quivering uncontrollably in unquenched desire.
“One more taste,” he murmured and then his tongue ran up my core, stopping briefly to lap at the swollen nub.
I cried out again, sensations rushing through me just as my dark power stirred. “Logan!” I cried in panic.
“Too much?” he asked.
I nodded tightly.
He growled quietly. “Such a shame. I can’t wait to properly taste you.”
The heat in my core was growing so much that I made a move to squeeze my legs together, anything to create more friction, but Logan tsked.
“That’s my job, sweetheart.”
Before I could demand more, he rubbed something against my swollen sex, something soft yet firm. I cried out again.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes,” I panted. “Yes, please. Don’t stop.”
He rubbed it against me again, making slow deliberate circles as he varied the friction and pace. I was panting so badly by the time he pulled back that I wanted to scream.
“Logan!” I snarled when the pressure again disappeared.
He chuckled deeply. “I think I could get used to seeing you in this state.”
He continued torturing my body, alternating between rubbing my clit and trailing different items across my breasts and limbs. He evoked sensations in me I’d never known existed.
“So wet,” he murmured before the mattress dipped between my legs again. “You’re dripping, and it’s all from me.”
“Logan, please. Please.” I moaned and shifted my legs, feeling so damned restless it was going to make me scream.
“Your scent is making me crazy,” he growled before blowing on my sex again. “I bet every werewolf at headquarters can smell you. I want to bury my cock so deep inside you right now.”
“Yes,” was all I could manage.
“But this will have to do.”
Something firm pressed against my swollen nub again. I bucked then stopped, so anxious he’d pull away if I moved too much.
“Do you like that?”
“Yes!”
“What about this?” He rubbed me again, and my sex sang in glee.
“Yes. Yes. Yes.”
He continued rubbing something against my clit, and I arched wildly. “Don’t stop!”
Logan picked up his pace, using slow tortuous movements at first but then moving faster and using more pressure. The waves inside me began to build in earnest, rising higher and higher until I thought I was going to burst.
“Cum for me, babe. I want to hear you scream.”
He rubbed me more, the friction against my core so hard I lost all sense of place and time. I screamed, my entire body arching off the bed as an orgasm shattered my insides.
“Fuck you’re beautiful.”
I continued to quiver, my entire body reveling in the earth-shattering orgasm. It seemed to take hours before I descended from the high. When I finally did, I sighed in bliss, and the blindfold lifted.
Logan discarded it. That golden glow still lit his eyes. It rivaled the morning sun penetrating the curtains.
I fluttered my eyelids as my entire body felt like jelly. I lay on his bed, completely spent, thoroughly loved, and deliciously sated. A grin spread across Logan’s face, and I laughed.
“You look very happy with yourself.”
He chuckled. “Every man likes to make his woman scream.”
I blushed, unable to help it, but at least I wasn’t acting like a bashful virgin anymore. “I wish I could touch you in return.”
He leaned closer, and before I could stop him, he kissed me on the lips so quickly that the dark power didn’t have a chance to rise. “You will. All in good time.”
Chapter 18
It was hard getting out of bed after that experience, but duty called, whether we like it or not. A cool nip filled the air when we walked outside on our way to the main complex.
My long blond hair whipped in the wind, and when I’d looked in the mirror before leaving, my turquoise eyes had been particularly bright. I figured it had something to do with what Logan and I had done. I smothered a smile, but any lingering romance from our morning had ended as soon as we stepped outside.
Tension emanated from Logan the closer we got to headquarters, his impending meeting with Wes obviously weighing heavily on his mind.
“It’s getting colder.” I hugged the sweatshirt more tightly around me. I’d picked jeans to wear since September had arrived with a vengeance. Autumn was definitely on its way.
My statement penetrated the steely resolve surrounding Logan, exactly as I’d hoped it would. He shook himself. “It won’t get much colder than this. At least, not in headquarters.”
“What do you mean? Doesn’t it get cold here in winter?”
“Yeah, outside of the magical barrier, it does, but the sorcerers’ magic won’t let the temp fall below fifty on our land.”
“So no snow then?”
“Nope. Even if there’s a blizzard outside the barrier, in here, it’s clear and dry.”
I was still trying to contemplate the amount of magic that would take when we reached the main doors. A magical scanner emitted pink light around Logan’s handprint. A soft robotic voice followed.
“Welcome, Logan Smith and Daria Gresham.” The door clicked open.
Nervously, I ran a hand through my hair. “What should I do while you’re talking to Wes?”
“I’ll have you wait in one of the break rooms. Hopefully, this won’t take long.”
I followed Logan down a maze of corridors until we reached a room with a few tables, some chairs, and a vending machine. “Help yourself to some coffee.” He nodded toward the coffeepot on the counter. “And stay here. For real this time.”
He winked, but I still groaned. I definitely wasn’t making that mistake again.
Before I could wish him well, he disappeared from the room. To pass the time, I poured myself coffee and checked my phone. I still hadn’t talked to Cecile and Mike since arriving, but when I opened my text messaging, I didn’t have service.
So I sat down and sipped my cup of hot brew. I had only just finished my cup when Logan and Wes appeared in the doorway.
“We’ll proceed to the library now, Daria.” Wes opened the door toward a wide hallway. “Master Gregor and Master Mallory have been assigned to this case.”
Before I could ask what the heck that meant, Wes turned and went into the hall.
I raised my eyebrows at Logan. “So? What happened?”
“I’m on probation,” he replied quietly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means if I fuck up again, I’m out.”
My jaw dropped. “You’d get kicked out of the SF?”
“Yeah, for good.”
He said it calmly, but I still noticed the tenseness in his shoulders that hadn’t been there earlier. If he got kicked out of the SF, he would have to return home, and that meant facing whatever he was running from.
“Come on.” He nodded toward the door. “We don’t want to keep Wes waiting.”
We left the room and hurried to catch up with the SF general as he wove his way down a myriad of corridors. When we approached another wide hallway, my attention focused on the large doors waiting ahead.
“This is the library.” Wes waved at the grand entrance.
The monstrous doors rose at least twenty feet high and looked about a thousand years old.
Wes reached for one’s handle. “Gregor and Mallory have been poring over old texts and scrolls all morning. I’m hoping they’ll explain why those rogues had red eyes, why they were working together, and how you killed them. Perhaps what we find will aid you in understanding how you killed them and, ultimately, help us teach other witches how to harness a similar power. If nothing else, it may help you learn how to control whatever was born inside you, Daria.”
“I certainly hope so.” I followed him inside, the door creaking open on giant hinges. I jumped when the ancient door slammed closed behind us, but that surprise quickly abated when the library spread out in front of me.
“How in the world…” I whispered.
The library rivaled the size of a football stadium and had a ceiling at least a hundred feet high. Rows and rows of shelves, stacked higher than seemed humanly possible, towered all around the room. But it wasn’t just the sheer size of the cavernous monstrosity they called a library that shocked me—it was also that the shelves floated above the floor.
Dozens of large floating shelves, each thirty feet tall, swayed and moved in the air, as though they had life forces of their own. My gaze flew upward when a particular shelf suddenly shot into the air as one of the higher-up ones plummeted down.
I jumped back, shrieking, but it stopped about five feet away and floated two feet off the floor.
Logan smiled, apparently finding my reaction amusing. “Magic’s pretty cool, eh?”
“You could say that, but how is this room so big?” The headquarter building did not look that big from the outside.
“Again, magic.” Logan winked.
“Don’t worry about the flying furniture,” someone said, coming up behind us. “The shelves are just doing what they’re told. Mallory and I are still trying to find a scroll from a text I recall reading several hundred years ago.”
I turned around to see a figure hunched over, hobbling toward us. He wore an earthy-brown-colored woolen robe that draped over his four-foot body. When he peeked up at me, I swallowed a surprised yelp.
“Daria, this is Master Gregor.” Wes waved at the newcomer. “He’s our oldest scholar and most experienced historian. When the courts called him yesterday to tell him about your case, he accepted the prisoner’s punishment and returned to help.”
Prisoner’s punishment? What the heck is he talking about now? But I didn’t have time to ask because Master Gregor hobbled closer to me.
“Daria Gresham, it’s a pleasure. I’ve always wanted to meet a Gresham witch.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I somehow managed despite having the urge to ogle. Between the large pointed ears, the elongated snout, the gaping mouth filled with sharp teeth, and the large dark eyes set in a face that looked like stone, I did my best not to flinch. Master Gregor’s features were so grotesque that they were the kinds of things children had nightmares about.
“Let me see if what I remember is here.” Master Gregor hobbled toward the shelf that had come careening down only a moment before.
Logan, Wes, and I stayed put as Gregor leaped onto a ladder gliding past, the graceful movement belying his unsteady walk.
The ladder ascended to the top of the floating shelf, where Gregor leaned out and began thumbing through ancient-looking books and scrolls.
“What is he?” I asked Logan under my breath.
Logan leaned down and replied quietly, “A gargoyle. Their species is well renowned for their academic achievements.”
Gargoyles are scholars? Not warders of evil? Sure, why not. “Is that why he looks like stone?”
“Yeah. At night, he turns back to stone, but during the day, gargoyles work in supernatural libraries throughout the world.”
“And what did Wes mean about the prisoners and courts?”
“I’ll explain that one later.”
Guessing that we didn’t have much time before Gregor sailed back down, I asked a simpler question. “Where did he travel from? Wes said he returned from somewhere.”
Logan scratched his chin. “I think Eastern Europe. The largest supernatural library is in Bulgaria.”
“Wow, he must have jumped on the first plane out. That’s a long way.”
“My guess is he used a portal key. Then it only takes
a few minutes to travel anywhere.”
My jaw dropped. Logan had told me before that portal keys were precious. Did that mean the SF considered what had happened with the rogue wolves important? That they would whisk a coveted scholar in overnight to get on the case?
Gregor floated down the ladder, holding a scroll. “I think I’ve found it.” His wide mouth with its gray lips stretched into what I could only guess was a gargoyle grin. “Mallory’s still in the back wing, hunting through newer texts, but I believe I’ve found the most important one.”
He hopped off the ladder as nimbly as a cat. Once on the floor, he hobbled past us to a large wooden table. “Let me show you.”
My heart pounded when I approached the table. If Master Gregor knew something about the dark power inside me, it was possible the scroll he held contained the first clue to explain what had happened to me.
Gregor unwrapped the scroll on the table. Creases lined the ancient paper, but when I peered closer, I saw that it wasn’t paper at all but cloth.
Since the text was in a different language, I couldn’t read it. “What does it say?”
Wes and Logan also stood behind Gregor, each easily double the small gargoyle’s size.
“It says … ah, right here!” Gregor said, pointing. He ran his long finger with its curly claw over a particular line of text. “This speaks of a race of witches renowned for their healing power, specifically that they can heal within and without, rendering the sick whole and unsoiled.”
“So this is about my family?” My heart beat harder.
Gregor bobbed his head, his finger flying down the text. “It is. At the bottom here, there’s a mention of the Gresham witch. Did you know your family originally hailed from the Mediterranean area?”
I fingered my hair—my very blond hair. “Really?”
“Indeed. The Greshams only left that area during the Holy Wars, when they became persecuted for their practices.”
I bit my lip, nerves churning in my stomach. All of that was news to me. My mom and my nan certainly never knew anything about it. If they had, they would have told me. I was certain of it.
“But what of the power inside her now?” Logan asked, hands on his hips. “What causes it, and why does she have it?”
Gregor leaned down, his large eyes flying over the ancient text. “There’s something here at the bottom.” He clapped. “Yes, this is it! This is what I remembered! Right here, it says that the Gresham women first emerged around AD 200 and that their power was both dark and light.”
Power in Darkness Page 15
