“You have no idea.” My reply was muffled by Luke’s shirt, as he drew me into his embrace.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’m so sorry, Claire-bear,” she wept, her face contorted in pain. I reached out to her, but she remained just out of reach.
“I understand,” I tried to tell her, but it was like talking to an illusion. There was nothing there, but the ghost of her memory pled for my understanding. An understanding I could give her now, if only she was within reach.
For the first time, I looked past her, aware it was a dream, and noticed where we’re at. It was a small meadow surrounded by forest, one eerily similar to where she’d bound our powers. She fell silent, her pleas soundless now, as I wandered away from her looking back at a memory. The circle was scratched into the ground, candles placed at the four points, the acrid scent of burning herbs tickled my nose. As I walked closer to the circle, I could hear an echo of the words she chanted that night.
“Powers bound, conceal their might,
Hid from mortal sight,
Magic reflects in their eyes,
When danger stalks, break their ties.”
I’d never known the words she’d used to bind us, or I had never remembered them before. My mind had kept many secrets over the years, waiting for the right moment for them to be revealed. My legs carried me toward the circle, a compulsion I didn’t understand drove me.
The light was incredibly bright as I crossed the line marked on the ground, forcing my eyes to close against it. The sight in front of me when I finally opened them would remain etched in my memory forever.
I woke with a gasp, my heart pounding wildly. Disoriented, I glanced around the unfamiliar space. Serafin rubbed against my arm, purring loudly, her presence soothing me. As the wild beating of my heart slowed down, I remembered where I was. After the day’s revelations, we had parted company. Garvin took Portia and her father back to his Momma’s house, since she had room for them and a security guard, while I remained with Luke. The bed next to me was empty, the imprint from his head still on the pillow.
Serafin head-butted my cheek and I murmured, “Sweet girl,” to her. She’d shown up a few minutes after Garvin and company left, curled up on the kitchen table. Luke took her presence in stride, not even batting an eye when he saw her, only mentioning he might need to pay a pet deposit on the apartment now.
We’d eaten dinner, Luke showcasing his cooking skills, which were surprisingly good, and discussed everything we’d learned over the day. Finally, the day caught up with me, and exhaustion pestered me to go to sleep before I passed out. Luke had curled beside me on his bed, his arms fast becoming my haven. He wasn’t there now though, and I wondered what had gotten him up.
I padded silently into the living room, Serafin at my heels, to see him framed in the glow from his laptop screen. He glanced up at me as soon as we entered the room, even though I could have sworn I hadn’t made a sound. He smiled tiredly and held an arm out to me. I took his invitation, sitting on his lap, as I studied what he was working on. He had some type of search engine pulled up. It looked pretty official to me,
“I’m looking for Kincaid,” he rumbled, exhaustion weighing on him, as well. I hadn’t forgotten he had been shot less than twenty-four hours ago and needed sleep. Magic may have healed him, but the psychological effects of being shot had to take its toll. “You need sleep,” I replied gently, running my fingers over his head and garnering a satisfied groan from him.
“That feels good,” he mumbled, resting his head against my chest. I continued to gently massage his scalp, feeling the hard plane of his skull, combined with the silky strands of his dark hair clinging to my fingers. I knew without asking he hadn’t found her yet, knowing that was why he couldn’t sleep.
“We’ll find her. I know we will,” I told him, one of my hands running down his back, scratching gently. I reached over and shut the lid to his laptop, the harsh glare from its light disappearing and leaving us cloaked in shadows.
He rubbed his face against my chest, his stubble abrasive against the sensitive skin there. The soft touch of his lips soothed away the tiny sting. He shifted me, so I straddled him instead of lying across his lap. My bare legs hung on either side of him and his huge hands stroked their length. I was wearing one of his button-down shirts and panties, and he was only in boxer briefs. I could feel the hard ridge of him pressed against the damp heat of my panties and I knew waiting was the last thing I needed or wanted. I slowly slipped the buttons open on my shirt, as he watched me with hooded eyes, his breaths getting heavier, as I moved lower. His hands tightened their grip on my legs, their strength noticeable, as he slid them to my hips.
He tried to speak, but had to stop and clear his throat, “Are you sure?” he asked, in a raspy whisper. I smiled, shifting my shoulders so his shirt fell back, exposing me to his gaze. His eyes followed the shirt’s movement, and I could feel his hardness, cradled between my legs, pulse. I pulled my arms from the shirt and ran them over his chest, following the dips and planes of his muscles, his abs tightening as my fingers moved lower, and I traced them back up, cupping his head. The deep red of his lips drew me, and I swayed closer to him, his mouth finding mine, our urgency consuming us now. The deep thrusts of his tongue caused low gasps to pull from my throat, and I rocked against him, my body seeking relief against him.
He pulled back from me, his hands firm on my hips, rocking me against him harder, as he watched me. The throbbing between my legs increased with his pace, and my nipples were painful nubs, so I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him to my breast. He knew what I needed and latched on, sucking hard. I cried out at the sensation, my rocking frantic, as he switched to my other nipple. He pushed down hard on my hips, grinding himself against me, “Come for me,” he growled and my body shattered.
I collapsed against him, my heart beating frantically from my orgasm, the hard ridge of him jutting into my soaked panties. I placed a kiss against the hot, sweaty skin of his chest as he panted, sliding my hand between us. He groaned as my hand found him, murmuring, “You don’t have to,” reluctantly to my ears and I smiled, putting my mouth to his ear. “It’s my pleasure,” I promised him, drawing him from the confines of his briefs. He let out a low groan at my words before sliding one of his own hands from my hips and into the soaked valley between my legs. It was my turn to pant, as he stroked my already sensitive clit. I made a slight cry as he circled it, and he pressed harder, feeling my hand tighten its grip on his hardness, as my body threatened to come again with his touch.
“I’m going to …” I trailed off with a cry, as fireworks exploded behind my eyes yet again. I felt his knuckles graze my clit before a sudden jerk freed me from my panties. A second later, his cock was rubbing against my wet pussy, and I rocked against him again, ready for his length to come inside of me. He granted my wish, impaling me with one hard thrust. The chair we were perched on rocked, as he set a grueling pace, his heavy thrusts making my eyes roll as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. I found his pace and met his thrusts, our movements in unison, as the pressure built inside of me again. He seemed to sense my impending orgasm, pacing his thrusts to make sure I came again.
“Luke,” I cried, my head thrown back, as I felt him jerk hard against me, both of us coming at the same time. My body was boneless, slumped over him, his cock twitching inside of me as he ran his hands over my back, gently stroking my skin.
I finally found the energy to say, “Maybe we should try a bed now.” He groaned, as his dick twitched again at my words before standing up, our bodies still joined, supporting me as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried us to his bed, satiated exhaustion carrying both of us into a deep sleep.
The next morning, we woke up, rumpled and content, and made love again. Leisurely this time, the desperate urgency from the night before tempered for the moment by our bodies touching. The smooth glides and long strokes built the fever gradually. Our hands drifted, touching everywhere and learning the
pleasure points, soft gasps and deep, drugging kisses mimicked the slow rocking of his body into mine. His mouth swallowed my soft cry, as I reached the pinnacle right before him, his long, low groan combining with a jolt as he came. His head rested between my breasts, his soft breaths light against my skin. My hand rested on his head, my fingers playing with the soft strands of hair, as I uttered the words I couldn’t say before.
“My mother’s dead.”
I felt his breath pause before he released it in a soft exhale. He kissed the side of my breast tenderly, understanding I couldn’t look at him as I explained. “I’ve always know it. Some instinct inside of me has always known. It would have been the final way she could protect us.” As I trailed off, his thumb rubbed the skin on my stomach, “Why now?” he asked, quietly, prodding me to explain.
“I dreamed last night,” I replied, my voice blank. The pain I felt at seeing her too harsh to express. “She was telling me she was sorry, again. But this time I knew it was a dream, so I moved past her and into the memory of that night. I heard her incantation to bind our powers before stepping into the circle she’d placed us in.” I paused, the memory of the sight as painful as the initial dream. He kept his breathing even, his touch soothing, but I could feel the tension radiating from him. He wanted to protect me, even from my own memories.
“She was lying inside of the circle, her arms crossed over her chest, so peaceful she could have been sleeping, except, she wasn’t. The blood soaked her chest and the ground beneath her …. She slit her wrists and waited to die.” Tears leaked from my eyes and into my hair as I lay there, recalling the sight. Instinctively, I knew what I’d seen had happened. Sight may not have been my gift, but my connection to my mother wouldn’t be denied. She’d stayed with me the only way she could, through a lifetime of dreams and memories. I’d always known only death would keep her from us, but it hadn’t occurred to me she would have had to cause her own death to keep us safe.
Luke pulled himself up and gathered me in his arms, giving me the only sanctuary he could for the moment. “She loved you.” He paused before continuing, “I love you. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect you. There was no sacrifice too great for her to keep her girls safe.”
“She had to make too many sacrifices,” I replied, rubbing my head against his chest.
“No such thing when it comes to you,” he reflected, the serious note in his voice capturing my attention. I kissed the spot where the bullet had pierced his chest and prayed there would be no more sacrifices.
A few hours later, we regrouped with the others to share any information we’d discovered. Luke had run a background check on my father. Everything looked normal and above board, until a few months ago when he’d dropped off the face of the planet, apparently. He had been declared a missing person by a co-worker roughly six months before, when he hadn’t come into work. Otherwise, his life had been boring—on the surface at least. He’d never moved from the house we grew up in, remaining in case we ever returned after declaring us missing. He appeared to be a pillar of the community, the nice gentleman with the terribly sad story.
“Why didn’t you ever tell them your address when you were placed in the foster system?” Portia asked me, curiously. “You were old enough to remember your name and address. Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shook my head thinking about it. “I don’t know exactly why. My mother’s warning kept me from telling them my real name and honestly, to this day, I could not tell you what my address was.” My words garnered the attention of everyone, so I explained, “I was asked if I knew my address, and I did know it, but I could never say it or write it down. It blurs in my mind if I think about going there. At the time I didn’t understand it, completely frustrated by my seeming inability to recall the most basic fact. Now, I realize it must have been some type of magic blocking my ability to remember; another form of protection.”
“2743 Winterford Road,” Luke rattled off, watching me. I blinked, knowing he spoke, but having no idea what he’d said.
“Damn, that’s some powerful voodoo,” Garvin interjected, waving a hand in front of my face.
I slapped at it, frowning. “I’m guessing you told me my address?”
Luke nodded contemplatively, “Even now, when he’s apparently abandoned it, you still can’t recall it.”
“I wonder what triggered him to leave.” Patrick gazed at us. “You had come into your powers years ago, and so did Kincaid. What made him make a move now?”
“Maybe he found her,” Garvin answered, shrugging. “Same as you. How did you find her?”
“An advertisement for your magic business. Someone had linked a YouTube video to your website, and as I watched it, I realized it was actual magic and only someone incredibly powerful would be capable. I took a chance and came.”
I slapped my hand against Garvin, “I told you advertising was a bad idea!”
“Oh my God! How was I supposed to know you were part of some epic trinity and hiding from the bad guys? Seriously, advertising is good business.” Garvin grumbled at me, looking guilty. I hugged him lightly, my words meant to be teasing and not accusing.
“He would have acted if he’d had word of your location,” Patrick agreed. “But is he foolish enough to go back home?”
Luke and I shook our heads. We didn’t think so. This would be a battle to the end, and my father would not concede the field.
“What about Kincaid? Any luck finding her?” Garvin inquired, causing Luke to drum his hands in frustration. The tight shake of his head told them everything. We’d had no luck finding her. I knew she’d been a student at the University of Tennessee, or connected to someone who had been, but I couldn’t shake the feeling she’d actually attended. But we’d found no one registered at any point in the last six years with her name. We’d tried several different name combinations with no luck.
“So your daddy disappeared and we can’t find your sister .... Do you think he knows where she is?” Garvin’s words triggered the thoughts I’d been trying to avoid. We were in a race with my father. He’d been unable to stop me, but he still wanted power. There was nothing stopping him from going after Kincaid and Quinn. If he got to them before I did …. I shuddered at the thought, my instinct to protect them overwhelming me.
“Doubtful,” Luke replied, reaching over and tugging me into his lap. I went gratefully, comforted by his arms and his words. “He came here trying to get to Sinclair. I think if he’d known where either of the other two were at, he would have gone after them already. They have the least amount of experience with magic at the moment, and might be easier to control. Sin was a matter of expedience.”
“You two look so adorable together,” Garvin sighed, forcing me to give him a ‘WTF’ look. He raised his hands, “What? It’s true. And a long time coming seeing you happy, so let me bask in it!”
I felt the rumble of Luke’s laughter against me, and couldn’t stop the twitch of my own lips. We all laughed, the release from the tension feeling good.
I caught Patrick’s eye, raising an inquiring eyebrow. He was supposed to try and gather information on the Council. We knew someone on it must have assisted my father all those years ago and probably still did. He responded to my nonverbal question, “I’ve sent feelers out. The only one I don’t suspect at the moment is the member who replaced my mother. But I trust none of them. If any one of them assisted your father, they had to have seen what has happened in the intervening years, and the fact they’ve done nothing to stop him does not speak well of them.”
“But, Father, the Council doesn’t act as a court,” Portia commented, looking confused.
“No, they don’t, but if a Council member imparts knowledge and/or history, they have a responsibility to know what it’s being used for. We have no desire to teach dark arts, and everyone has a due diligence when they see something is wrong. The Council is not exempt from that. In fact, they are held to an even higher standard, because of how much knowledge th
ey possess,” Patrick stated adamantly, his passion over the topic obvious.
“Dark arts? I thought magic was neutral?” Luke asked the question before I could, and we waited for his reply.
“Magic is neutral. How you use it determines if it’s good or bad. That is the truth. But magic can be subverted, just like any power. We use herbs in our magic, gifts from the earth, nothing that would cause harm. But it’s not to say you can’t use harmful items, and some believe these other tools are more powerful.”
I thought back to my father’s illusion at the Youth Village. It seemed so long ago now, but had only been a few days before. He had used the life source of a tree to power his illusion before I’d destroyed his spell. The entire thing had felt wrong to me. The vibration from the magic was off, because it was killing the tree.
“Blood is a common one, animal sacrifice, human blood ....” He could see the disgusted expressions on our faces as he said this. “Good magic doesn’t condone this, but these are some of the ways your father increased his power over the years. Using the life source of living things is another way to boost the power of a spell.” His words caused me to shake, as a horrified realization came over me.
The circle from my dream hadn’t been similar to the place our mother had bound our powers. It had been the same. She’d shed her blood inside the same circle to increase its power. My widened eyes met Luke’s, and he sucked air in through his nose, as he came to the same conclusion as me. I tucked my head into his shoulder, wanting to hide from my own insight. It seemed there would be no end to the sacrifices my mother had made.
I could feel Patrick’s curious gaze, but he was too polite to ask why I was so upset. Garvin, however, had no such compunction.
“What? Tell me. You got the ‘oh shit’ look on your face,” he demanded, drawing everyone’s eyes to me. Luke frowned, about to tell Garvin to leave it alone, when I sat up.
Unbound (The Trinity Sisters Book 1) Page 15
