Psychic Storm: Ten Dangerously Sexy Tales of Psychic Witches, Vampires, Mediums, Empaths and Seers

by Deanna Chase

  Ivan doesn’t keep me waiting. He pushes through the double doors, coming to stop at the entrance while the doors swish closed behind him.

  “You,” he says in a hiss.

  His stark white hair and goatee stand in marked contrast to the rest of his dirty, ragged appearance. He must have discarded his coat in the attic; I can’t imagine he was able to survive outside this long without some protection. Dried blood cakes his clothing but the exposed skin of his shoulder reveals no trace of a wound.

  Ivan advances about ten feet, maintaining a safe distance from me. He’s shaking in his rage, fisting his hands open and closed in rapid succession. “You took everything from me. I spent years locked in silver and starved because of your meddling!”

  “Really? Did I now?” responding to his first statement, while ignoring the second. I bat my eyelashes playfully. “Are you so sure?”

  I push a strong sense of desire his way, turning his hunger and blood lust around to another kind of lust—one I’m an expert at manipulating. Recreating my own sexually aroused scent, I send it wafting with a shift of my leg.

  “Was Angie really the right girl for you?”

  Ivan shakes his head, caught in my web and unsure of what his mind tells him.

  “I don’t understand. It was you that got me imprisoned! She was mine.” His rage takes front and center in his emotions, but he’s having trouble holding it together in the face of my illusion. “W-Why did you sever my mate bond with her?”

  “It was not my fault you were imprisoned. I tried to keep you with me, but the Tribunal stepped in. You should blame them.” I stare straight into his eyes as I utter my next words, “Angie was weak. I had no choice but to sever the bond or kill her. With your ability to exert your will in place of her own so completely, I knew you were destined for stronger prey.”

  I lick my mouth, allowing a fang to elongate and stay showing over my bottom lip.

  “Why set her free to remarry?” His face contorts in an ugly visage. “That faithless bitch deserved to die!”

  Throwing my head back, exposing my long throat, I laugh in a tinkling, seductive sound. “Food is food, man.” I make a tsk-tsking sound, to draw him out of his haze. “I bet she didn’t even recognize you when you came for her.” His eyes flash to mine; I think I hit the nail on the head with that one. “When will you learn?”

  “Learn what?” he sneers. Apparently, Ivan does not care to be laughed at. He walks closer and stands a mere five feet from me now. Good.

  “Only a vampire master and another master can find true happiness together. The Tribunal spreads the lies of mate bonding with a human far and wide to keep the rest of us from getting too strong.” The lie trips off my silver-tipped tongue with ease.

  Ivan’s face no longer holds the impassivity most vampires wear on a daily basis. The insanity he had before his imprisonment looks like it grew during his stay in the ancients’ jail. His eyes look wild, darting around the room, only to fall back on my lush curves like a moth drawn to flame. My pull on him through the illusion messes with his mind more than he can handle; he looks ready to snap.

  “I don’t understand. Why would the Tribunal lie to keep us weaker?”

  “Haven’t you noticed most of them don’t have mates?” I ask, hoping to draw something useful from the psycho before his death.

  “I was imprisoned below ground in a damp cell with silver chains. I didn’t see any of them much.” His traitorous body shows evidence of his arousal, though he ignores it, while I twist on the lounge to draw his attention.

  “Much? That implies you saw some of them.” I smile again, this time pulling my arm back and sitting up a bit on the chaise.

  Lush, perfect breasts on display, a sight not many men could resist. Ivan proves to be like most men, giving me a long lingering stare.

  “Emiko came down to see me the most near the end. She was the one assigned to set me free.”

  “Did she bother to explain that I was saving Angie as food for another? Or did she imply I kept her for myself?” I snort to show the foolishness of this statement. “Or maybe she told you I let your wife live as part of your punishment?”

  “No. She knew nothing of the reason for my confinement. I was there before she became an enforcer.” He looks speculative now, maybe thinking back on his last days there. The clarity in his eyes plays hide and seek with his blatant craziness. “She informed me my Angie lived and was waiting for me in Chicago.”

  Ah… so Emiko steered him to that poor young woman. If she didn’t know why he was imprisoned, then someone pointed her toward him with the information.

  “Didn’t you wonder how she knew Angie was alive or how to tell you where she was?”

  Ivan looks around the room, searching for answers in the green foliage of the plants. “She spoke of a mentor on the tribunal during one of her visits. But never a name.” His roving eyes come back to land on me. “Are you trying to say I was set up? That someone used me?”

  “Why, yes, you silly boy.” I’m actually amazed he was able to piece that together. “Angie’s mind had been wiped clean so she could continue to feed the community. You finding your way here was dumb luck.”

  “Dumb luck?” Ivan scoffs out loud at that one. “I tracked that new husband of hers for months trying to kill him, too. That no-good bastard left every town right when I pinpointed his daytime sleeping location.” His eyes take on a new shine. “But I certainly enjoyed myself on the long journey here.”

  I don’t want to think about the string of victims like Sheba he’d have left in his wake. To do so now could break the web I’m trying to spin.

  The sexual desires I’ve been pushing out finally penetrate the full-on layer of nutso he’s got going on. Good God, the crazy ones are hard to manipulate. His hunger for blood re-directs into one of sex and Ivan’s body language changes from one of rage-filled predator to that of horny jackass. His limbs loosen from the tight stance he held while his hands relax from fists. He smiles at me in a leer, as if he’s just now noticed I’m naked. I’m betting it was the reference to his kills that finally brought on the recognition of his body’s responses to my projections.

  Ewww. The thought sickens me so much I don’t even want to contemplate it.

  “I thought you hated me all those years ago,” Ivan says in a soft cadence. “You really only wanted me for yourself?”

  “Yes. Like calls to like, baby. I knew you were strong. Together, with your power, I can direct all the fantasies here to go exactly as desired—all without the vampires knowing it.”

  “I… I… I never thought I could do something I enjoyed with another of my kind.”

  “Come to me, I will show you… ” I send my scent into his nose, filling his head with nothing but thoughts of me and the pleasure that awaits him.

  Ivan advances the remaining space between us, unbuttoning his filthy shirt on the way. Soon his skinny, unappealing body stands before me.

  Now, Asa.

  I spread my legs on the chaise, a clear invitation to the vampire. Ivan’s breathing in and out fast, like a horse that finished a race. He climbs on to the lounger with me, looking down into my eyes.

  “You’re so beautiful, it’s like a dream come true.”

  I reach up, running my hands over his chest to rest on either side of his neck.

  “More like a nightmare.”

  I follow the blood connection I share with every living and non-living thing on the property to its end. Touching on the blood that was once in Paul and that now resides in Ivan, I flex down, spiraling into his mind before he has any chance to figure out what I’m doing.

  “How does it feel to be locked in your own mind, Ivan?”

  No sound escapes the psychopath. He can’t even move unless I let him. “How does it feel to know that Angie found love? And that the real reason she never recognized you when you went to kill her was because I saved her? I wiped her mind clean of all traces of you, you sick bastard.”

  I smile
at him. This time my smile reaches my eyes. But it’s not a pretty smile—it’s the smile of an enforcer doling out justice.

  The fire door in the back of the room crashes open. I pull my illusion away for Asa and Drew to see exactly what I want them to see: the truth.

  Ivan no longer crouches over the form of Vivian, but over the real form of Joanna, who lies fully clothed beneath him. Joanna’s hands lock on his neck, holding Ivan in place while I hold him hostage in his own mind.

  How does it feel, I ask from inside his head, to know the man who truly loved Angie and gave her happiness will be the one who gets to end your sorry existence for all eternity?

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  I bolt from my spot at the kitchen table. I’d projected the entire scene at the pool on to Joanna’s form. I’d never left our apartment in order to honor my promise to Rafe that I’d only be ten feet away.

  “Rafe! Come quick. They have him!”

  A shot fires in the distance. Rafe flies up the basement stairs, taking them three at a time. He grabs my outstretched hand and we race to the pool in the opposite wing.

  “Are we too late to see the actual killing?” Rafe asks.

  “Not yet. Asa shot him, but my connection to Ivan says he’s still alive.”

  We burst through the doors to the sight of a bloody Ivan on the floor, with a large hole through his chest. Asa has Joanna in his arms, comforting the cute blond vampire. Drew stands alone over Ivan’s prone form with a sword raised high.

  The parrots fly down with a loud squawk, ever ready to torment me. Rafe waves his hand, and the birds turn in mid-flight to land in a large, potted palm. Damn! I have to learn how to do that.

  Drew’s manic eyes swing up at our entrance. “Don’t try and stop me, Vivian. I don’t trust the Tribunal to give me justice for the bastard killing Angie.”

  “I wasn’t planning on stopping you, Drew.” I cock my head to the side. Why hasn’t he done it yet? “I was planning on bearing witness for you.”

  Ivan looks dazed, as well he should, with no ability to communicate. A just ending for someone who did the same thing to his own victims.

  Crap, could Drew be feeling wrong about killing him in cold blood rather than finally getting the revenge he’s been craving for months? I’ll give things a nudge for him. I open the puppet-string-like hold I have on the psychopath, forcing cliché words from Ivan’s mouth that are sure to push Drew over the edge. “She loved it,” Ivan rasps from his spot on the floor. “Don’t think that slutty bitch didn’t want…”

  Drew’s arms swing down, severing Ivan’s head in one fell swoop. No easy feat with a dull, sparring sword. The head rolls to the side. A final grimace of hatred contorts Ivan’s angry features. Blood pools below the body, staining the tile in a slow-spreading circle.

  “Drink and finish him,” I command.

  “What?” Drew’s voice sounds shocked.

  “Drink the blood of your enemy then cut out his heart.” I deliver my instructions as matter of fact as I can. It’s not the fun part, but it needs to be done. “You gain in strength by consuming his power. Live to fight another day.”

  Drew looks unsure of himself. I take it he has never killed another vampire before.

  “Now!”

  Drew moves to follow my command. Choosing to drink from Ivan’s wrist rather than the obvious outpouring from the severed neck. Pitiful. Drew never would have made it as an enforcer.

  The pulling force of Drew’s feeding stops the spreading pool beneath the body from getting larger. Good thing Ivan was weak with blood loss or we’d have a larger mess to clean up. Joanna and Asa watch in fascination. It takes about five minutes for Drew to drain Ivan. I reach down to the silver dagger strapped against my thigh.

  “Here,” I say, offering Drew the blade, hilt out. “Cut out his heart and we’ll burn it.”

  Drew takes the blade, bending to do the messy task. Tears pour down his cheeks. He may have wanted to avenge his wife after she died, but I don’t think he bargained for all of this when he came here seeking solace in our remote Alaskan resort.

  Jonathan comes in the wide-open fire door with Jet right behind him.

  “Damn, we missed all the fun,” Jet says. “Would have been my first vampire kill in a century.”

  Both men saunter in naked from their shape change. Jon grabs a towel from a nearby stack, tossing it to Jet, before getting another for himself.

  Drew stands over the body with the bloody heart of his wife’s killer in his hands. The tears stop and a new resolution forms beneath the shock. “Where, Vivian?” Cold eyes meet my own. “Where can I burn it?”

  “There’s a fireplace in the lobby. It’s the closest.”

  Rafe retrieves a soiled towel from a nearby chair. “Here, Drew. Wrap the heart in this.” He escorts Drew out to help with the fire while I’m left staring at the beheaded corpse.

  “There won’t be enough daylight to fry the corpse until spring.” I scratch my head, weary from the past two days, weary to my bones. “Asa, can you drag yourself from Joanna long enough to help?”

  Asa jumps like I’ve stung him with a cattle prod. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jon snorts and turns it into a cough, trying not to laugh out right at Asa’s reaction.

  “Haul the remains out front. We’re going to have us a bonfire on the driveway. Oh, and go around the wing, will you—not through the lobby? I’d rather not get any blood in there.”

  Asa bends to his assigned task, so I turn to the towel-hipped Jonathan.

  “Can you start notifying our people and get them to spread the word? I’ll call the rest of the hunters in.”

  “Don’t bother,” Liam shouts from the doorway. He’s standing with Antonio and Salvador. “We heard gunfire and ran right over. Once we saw you all had it under control, we stayed back to let Drew have the kill.” Liam pats Asa heartily on the back as the younger vampire walks by carrying the headless corpse in his arms, the severed head piled on top. “What a fine way to spend a vacation,” he says with a big grin. “I can’t tell you when I last had so much fun.”

  The charred smell of a burning heart and bloody clothes in the fireplace apparently make the others think party. I’m not sure how it happens exactly, but before I could say boo, the lobby had filled with the people coming upstairs from the basement.

  Warm hugs and loud, life-affirming kisses could be heard through the vast space. The giddy high associated with surviving a terrible event, seems quite prevalent here tonight. Laughter sounds a little too loud, a little too quick. Word of the bonfire spreads and as Dr. Cook mills around, checking for signs of shock, some industrious soul has set up a buffet table for the enjoyment of those who can eat.

  But still, I feel like all that’s happened is rather surreal. The retelling of “the hunt,” as they’re starting to call it, has begun. Sal’s role in flushing Ivan to the main building has become a thing of legend. Liam’s brave part, flying around as a cloud, sounds a bit like an intelligence-gathering mission against large enemy forces.

  Jet, on the prowl in wolf form, is accredited, by his own account, with knowing exactly where the killer was at all times. Antonio receives claps on the back in thanks from the families he and the wolf-dogs helped to protect. Joanna and Drew are the stars of the event, each having played an equally crucial part in stopping the killer. One in acting as bait, and the other in implementing the iron hand of justice.

  Note, I didn’t say “of the law.” The law has no place here in Alaska on our resort for the undead. But justice—yes, justice—will always prevail.

  No one knows of my involvement with orchestrating Joanna’s part in it all, except for Rafe. I can never hide anything from him, so I don’t bother trying. I’m off lurking in a corner, near the entrance to the dining room, with Rafe by my side. This is one time where I have no desire to seek the limelight. The events of the last two days have left me drained. All I want is to curl up in a hot tub with my man by my side.

  Seeing
Bunny and her children across the room reminds me of Paul. I need to find out the results of that talk Jon had with her. The arrogant werewolf is still wearing only a towel. If it keeps slipping lower on his hips, we may have an orgy in here soon. I motion him over to ask about Bunny.

  “You need to get some clothes on.” I can’t help but smile when I say it.

  His thick wrestler’s body is stocky and powerful. He wears that towel like a toga any Olympic athlete would be proud to wear. If my heightened senses can pick up the pheromones he’s kicking off, making me think of hot wrestlers and athletes, then you can damn well bet all the others can to.

  “Is that really why you called me over here, Dria?” Jon purrs my real name out of earshot of the other employees. His golden-hazel eyes move from me to linger on Rafe. “Or is it because you and Rafe decided to finally beg me for a threesome?”

  Familiar warmth pools low in my middle. It’s dangerously close to spilling over to my pussy and lighting it on fire.

  Rafe throws his head back and barks out a loud laugh, helping to break some of the spell.

  “The day I need more than my dick in my wife, will be the day I’m dead.” Rafe’s laughter abruptly cuts off. His next words come out low and deadly. “And since I plan on killing you with my dying breath, we can guarantee it won’t be your dick in her either.” Rafe raises his voice to almost normal. “Why don’t you put some clothes on and stop teasing the whole damn room. There are children in here, for God’s sake.” He sighs, slowly letting out the rest of his anger. “If you’d rather consider it an order from your boss, then do it. But seriously man, you need to get clothes on, quick.”

  “For you, boss,” Jon winks cheekily at us both, “no problem.”

  He turns, angling toward the north wing where the gym has workout clothes available for the guests. Letting his towel slip as he goes—until it drops to the floor in the carpeted hall and his bare ass is revealed to the foyer.

  I project out a wave of calm, smoothing over the hot, boiling waters that churn at the sexy werewolf’s exit.