by Leia Shaw
“That makes sense. I can feel the electricity moving around me like static. It was weird, at first. Now it just feels...powerful.” She smiled, recalling the feeling of omnipotence when she was brave enough to let the light take over.
“Electricity is our main source of power. It has nothing to do with religion, eh? Witches, on the other hand, get their power from Gaia. She’s –”
“Mother Earth. I remember from one of your classes.”
“At least someone was listening. Gaia, or Mother Earth, is their god. She supplies them with the ability to manipulate nature’s elements. Water. Plants. Weather. Both sorcerers and witches can make potions and cast spells, but different kinds. Sometimes they trade with each other if they need something specific, but overall, neither culture is fond of the other.”
“I understand their feeling.” She gave him a pointed glare.
He chuckled. “Maybe that’s why you’re so indignant. The two sides of yourself are battling each other.”
She thought about it for a moment. “I don’t feel an internal battle. And I’m not indignant.”
His brows shot up.
“Okay, maybe I am, just a little. But it’s not because of what I am. If anything, it’s because of how I’m treated.” She gave him another meaningful glare.
“I’m trying, Sage. But you don’t make it easy.”
Difficult. Uncooperative. Those were just a couple of words that had been used to describe her by social workers and foster parents. She’d have thought labels would’ve worn off by now. But no. Some things haunted you forever.
“So, what now?” she asked. “What can you teach me about harnessing my witch powers?”
“It’s much of the same. Learning to use your powers objectively. You’re full of passion, which can be a good thing. If it’s tempered with self-control. I can integrate some witchcraft into your sorcery lessons as well. If you want.”
“I think you owe me that. Since you basically blackmailed me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you, you are just a tad dramatic?”
She lifted her chin. “And you reek of arrogance.”
“As do you, lleidr bach.” At her puzzled glare he explained, “Welsh for ‘little thief.’”
“Touché, culo. Italian for ‘ass.’ Just a little something I picked up in one of the foster homes in New York.”
He chuckled. “So you grew up in foster care?”
“Ohhhh no. I am not talking about that with you.”
With a shrug and a smirk, he said, “That’s alright. I’ll find out everything about you eventually. But let’s get on with things, shall we?” He rose from the couch. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
When he came down the stairs several minutes later with an armful of books he dropped on the breakfast bar with a thud, curiosity got the better of her and she moved to get a closer look.
“These are the basics,” he told her, sorting through them. He placed some into a separate pile and pushed a few towards her.
Her initial excitement turned to dread when the Chemistry textbook glared at her from the counter. She’d flunked it in high school after she’d almost blown up the Science lab. Dangerous chemicals and Sage didn’t mix, especially with her hair trigger temper and penchant for creating lightning balls, purposeful or not.
The biggest book was at the bottom of the pile and that was the one he thrust in front of her. She loved books, but the mere size of this particular one was daunting, even to an avid reader like herself. Besides, the books that filled her bookshelf – or backpack – were fiction.
James tapped the cover, waiting for a response.
She looked at the book then at James. “Okay. Now where’s the cliff notes?”
“No cliff notes. You’re going to read this cover to cover.”
She snorted. “Yeah, and you’re going to do the Macarena naked at a Sorority party.”
He leaned across the counter with an amused sparkle in his eyes. “I think it’s funny you still think you have a say in anything anymore.”
Her grin faded as the words sank in. Before she could give a witty retort, he explained, “Every sorcerer reads this book by the end of his training. It’s an essential part of who we are. In here you’ll find our history, spells, enchantments, tips for controlling our powers. Basically everything we need to know about sorcery.”
“So, like a Sorcery for Dummies?”
“I guess you could say that.”
She fingered the book. She’d expected something a little more impressive – antique, maybe leather bound with strange engravings and stained pages. But this was a typical school textbook. The cover had a symbol on it she didn’t recognize. It was a red dragon with what looked like the shape of an old wizard hat behind it and a comet in an arch above. Other than that, the book was rather ordinary.
She frowned. “It’s not very impressive. I would have thought it’d be much…cooler.”
“Yes, well, that’s because America’s entire perception of life is based on T.V. and movies.”
“And YouTube. Don’t forget about YouTube.”
“It’s time we opened up a whole new world for you, Sage Peterson.”
“I like my world just fine.”
“Do you?”
Do I? She stared at him until she couldn’t bear it anymore. His eyes were too deep, like he was having an intimate look inside her brain. She shook off the feeling and squared her shoulders. “You judge me, yet you have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“What you’ve been through has nothing to do with where you’re going.”
She snorted. How idealistic. As if it were easy to start over after a lifetime of pain and rejection. To start a new life in a new state with nothing to your name – not even with your real name. Not a penny. Not a friend. Nothing but your own will to survive and determination not to end up like everyone said you would. She felt the familiar rage build inside her, not at James directly, but he happened to be there, provoking her. Why was she letting him get in her head like this?
“If you’re too busy looking behind you, anwylyd, you’ll never see what’s ahead.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” she snapped, glad for somewhere to place her anger. “What does it mean?”
He smiled softly. “Darling.”
How did he manage to make her feel so vulnerable with just a word and a look? “What are you? My life coach?” She made a determined effort not to make the lights flicker – if only to show him she was more capable than he thought. “Anything else, Dr. Phil? Or can I go?”
He walked to her side of the kitchen counter. “One more thing. No more stealing.”
She met his gaze, unflinching. “Of course. I would never steal from you.”
He arched a brow and stepped closer. “Really?”
She nodded.
Then he grabbed her. In only a fraction of a second, he had an arm wrapped around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides and her back against his chest. His free hand reached into one of her front pockets.
“Hey!” She tried to squirm away, but he was too strong.
Finding it empty, he reached to the other. Just when she thought he’d let her go, he adjusted his grip then reached a hand into each of her back pockets. She didn’t miss the lingering squeeze on each side.
He tossed the various items that she had stolen onto the coffee table then spun her around.
“God! Don’t you have any boundaries?” she yelled, adjusting her out-turned pockets.
“Don’t you have any morals?”
“I think the answer to that is obvious!”
He opened his mouth then snapped it shut. After a long, deep breath, he asked, “Why would you continue to steal when I promised to provide for you?”
She shrugged and plopped down onto a chair. “Old habits die hard I guess. Besides, how do I know you’re not going to toss me out tomorrow? Then I’d be stuck penniless, on my own again.”
“I told
you, you could trust me.”
She looked up, meeting his steady gaze. “Do you honestly think that means anything to me?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Regardless. If you steal from me again, I will strip search you every night.”
Her jaw dropped.
“And, I’ll enjoy it.” His eyes twinkled with wicked promises.
For the first time Sage could remember, she was stunned speechless. By the time she got her wits back, James had casually strolled away. If anyone else had made that threat, she would have laughed it off. But from what she knew of James so far, he was not one to make idle threats. A shiver crept down her spine. Point taken.
Chapter 4
The first Bolt came hard and fast. It hit her in the chest, swept her off her feet then threw her backward where she landed flat on her back. She stayed sprawled on the ground for a few moments, trying to determine up from down.
The fallen leaves made for a somewhat cushiony landing. The Indian Summer they’d been having this October was a lucky coincidence.
A shadow fell on her. She looked up.
James stared down at her with an unrepentant expression. “That’s what it feels like to get hit by one of those Bolts you aimed at me the other day. Only I was going easy on you.”
“That was easy?”
He nodded.
“Fuck.”
“Come on. Get up. Now I’ll teach you to block it.”
The jerk didn’t even offer to help her from the ground. With a soft groan, she rose her feet and brushed the dirt off her jeans the best she could.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “You’ll be on the ground a lot today.”
She glared. Sadistic bastard.
“To create a Shield, just picture an invisible protective barrier in front of your body when I cast the Bolt.”
“Oh is that all?” She rolled her eyes. A Bolt was a bright ball of lightening energy zooming towards her faster than she could blink. Picturing anything but sheer terror was impossible.
And now he wanted her to do it again.
“Hang on,” he said then jogged toward her. “You’re just standing there like an open target. Might as well wear a bull’s eye on your shirt. Part of any good fight is intimidation.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re all tall and buff.”
His lips curled into a smug smile. “You think I’m buff?”
“Ugh. Just when I thought your head couldn’t get any bigger.”
He laughed. “Ah, dewin bach, there is plenty of room for my head to grow.”
“Not if you want to fit through the door,” she muttered. “And what did you just call me?”
“Little sorcerer.”
She would have preferred “little bitch.” This was the third time he’d used a pet name. Not a good sign. Getting attached to a dominant male like James went against all her rules. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’ll call you what I want, dove.”
She gave him her evilest look – one that made small children tremble. He just kept grinning.
“Why do you insist on tormenting me?”
“Consider it my own unique brand of revenge. You broke my chair and called me every foul name I’ve ever heard and more. And since I can’t treat you the way I’d been treated as a student for fear of being charged with assault, I’m determined to do what I can to make you squirm.”
“Yeah, because subduing me with a magic rope and catapulting me across the yard doesn’t count as assault.”
He gave her an evil grin. “Back to it then. Crouch down a bit and angle your body to the side.” He positioned his body to show her.
She tried her best to imitate him. He looked like a sexy ninja. Or a fierce tiger ready to pounce and tear apart his prey. She looked like she was sitting sideways on an invisible toilet.
She sighed. “This is stupid.”
“Put your hands up like this.” He raised his arms up in front with fists clenched like a boxer.
“That makes sense if you’re about to get into a fist fight, but how’s that going to help me defend against magic?”
“I’ll show you.”
He took a few steps back and squared his shoulders. His hands relaxed at his sides. Then one lit up with a green ball of energy.
She cringed and prepared to land on her ass. But the hit felt different this time. It still pushed her back but just before she hit the ground, something stopped her.
When she caught her breath, she looked up. James held her around the waist, keeping her body suspended above the ground. Her arms had locked around his shoulders. She willed herself to let go but her body wouldn’t obey.
Although he’d stopped her fall, the point was obvious. He could drop her at any second – though he looked more like he wanted to kiss her.
Oh no. “James –”
His mouth descended on hers. There was nowhere for her to go to get away. She had no choice but to accept the kiss.
He nipped at her lips until she opened for his invading tongue. A flutter started in her stomach. He grabbed the back of her head, clutching her to him as if he never wanted to part. Pushing her backward so she was on her tiptoes kept her dependent on his strength to hold her up. Tingles traveled down her spine, landing at the sweet spot between her legs. She liked kissing James.
Oh shit. She liked kissing James.
She tried to push away but he held her tight. Since he didn’t seem ready to stop anytime soon, she did the only thing she could think of – she bit him.
He pulled back with a look of surprise. His eyes were deep blue, like the midnight sea – far cry from the usual pale cobalt.
As if the bite had shocked him back to his senses, he gave his head a sharp shake. His face smoothed to his normal solemn expression. “Right then. Point is, just because someone can use magic, doesn’t mean they always will.” She struggled to right herself but he kept her suspended. “So keep your guard up, understand?”
“Yes. Now let me up.”
He pulled her to stand. The second her balance returned, she swept her foot behind his ankle and used all her body weight to push him backward.
As he lay on the grass, looking shocked but somewhat amused, she stood over him. “Don’t ever presume I don’t know how to defend myself. I’ve been doing it for the last ten years.”
Then she strolled away. But she didn’t miss the sly smile he gave her as he tracked her movement across the lawn. The predatory look in his eye brought to mind his untamed kiss.
Sex with James would be fierce. A violent, explosive catastrophe.
God, she wanted it. And wasn’t that a disturbing thought.
***
James leapt to his feet. “Let’s go again.”
What was he thinking taking on an out-of-control sorceress with major anger issues? He must be out of his bloody mind.
Kissing her had been a big mistake. He’d thought he’d have outgrown those schoolboy impulses long ago. But her scent – fresh rain with a hint of citrus – was intoxicating. Something about her breathed life into him. Instinct shifted, awakening after years of dormancy. It had been a long time since he’d tasted anything so delicious. And now he was left wanting more.
Her olive skin and chocolate brown hair indicated some southern heritage. But her lips…gods, her lips! Full and pink and pouting – perfectly made for kissing. Those lips combined with her tight jeans and low-cut t-shirt was driving him mad. He wanted to shake her for wearing such sexy clothing. Didn’t she know the beast she was tempting?
Sage was nothing like the sorceress’ back home in Wales. They were self-disciplined, respectful, and docile. There wasn’t a docile bone in Sage’s body. She was raw, her power unbridled. He was torn between wanting to quell her into submission and wanting to applaud her passion.
As she sauntered confidently across the lawn, a sassy look in her eye after leveling him with a simple foot sweep, it took all his effort to resist grabbing a handful of that generous backside. He had a
feeling a move so bold would illicit the use of the switchblade he knew she kept in her boot. And a knife in his heart would have been terribly inconvenient.
Distance yourself, James.
His plans for Sage didn’t include kissing, groping her ass, or a knife to the heart, and most certainly not getting attached to the unruly little thing. She was a weapon. There was no room for her to be anything more.
He had to put aside his selfish desires – mainly lust – and focus on the greater good. Yes, he was using Sage for revenge, as well as freeing his homeland – all without her knowledge – but this mission had been a long time coming. Too long. And sometimes a single person had to be sacrificed for the greater good.
Unfortunately for Sage, she had the natural power to be that person.
Almost a dozen more attempts at Shielding and Sage landed on her ass every time.
“Again,” he said, watching her moan quietly on the ground. He’d felt bad for her at first. That is, until she’d spat a string of profanities loud enough for the nearest neighbors – a quarter of a mile away – to hear.
Since she’d been raised in a kick-and-scratch-your-way-through kind of world, he’d lowered his expectations of her. With her penchant for rebellion, she wouldn’t have lasted a week in a Welsh sorcery school before the Counsel stripped her of her powers.
“Am I your first sorcery student?” she asked, rising from the ground and clutching her backside.
He hid a smile. “Sort of.”
“No wonder I’m failing. Find someone else to be your guinea pig. I want a teacher upgrade.”
“No, you don’t. Trust me. If I had spoken to my sorcery teacher like you do to me, I’d have been Bolted through a wall by now.”
She rolled her eyes, likely thinking he was joking.
“I haven’t ruled that out so don’t tempt me.” He chuckled when her eyebrows darted up. “You think a bruised backside is bad? Try a sprained arm and a concussion. Let’s go again.”
He should have known her compliance would only last so long. Before he released another low energy Bolt, a blue orb sailed across the yard, missing him by a wide margin before blowing up his antique garden bench. It hadn’t been a cheap purchase. He closed his eyes, taming his rising frustration.
