Caged Magic

by Jennifer Lyon

  Her butchered hair, no makeup, cracked lips and the fact that she hadn’t touched her hair once since he’d come into the room told him she didn’t care about her appearance. Yet even swimming in his stained shirt she’d put on last night, her cargo pants and bare feet, she was undeniably gorgeous.

  I’m not good at being touched.

  Anger simmered in his blood. Someone had hurt this woman, and it infuriated him. She had the signs—recoiling from touch, defaulting to humor or sarcasm in a form of self-protection. Yeah, she’d been hurt.

  She knew how to fight. She had some skills. He’d seen that in the cage last night when she’d held the knife.

  Yep, someone had hurt her, and—

  His breath caught as Risa’s magic rippled in the air and zinged his hand where they touched. Holy shit. That had a kick that penetrated his skin and buzzed his veins. The bird tattoo warmed, and he swore he could feel the feathers quivering. His heart rate escalated like he’d run twelve miles—uphill, in the snow, with a pack of pissed-off hellhounds on his ass. He’d had witch blood dumped on him, and it had been a powerful contact high.

  But this? A sexual fire blasted straight into his veins.

  Fuck.

  His mouth watered, his cock swelled, and his balls ached. Need gripped him so hard, he had to lock his muscles to keep from leaping over the table and tugging Risa to the floor. Once there, he’d strip off her shirt and pants to spread her legs and bury his cock so deep, he’d brand her as his.

  Jesus. Crazy much? Not from bloodlust, not as long as he touched her. Nope, what had him by the balls was raw, pulsing, sexual lust, backed by an oversized helping of feral possession.

  Only the feel of her hand in his, her soft skin warmed by luscious magic, kept him from totally losing it.

  Sweat slicked his back and burned the skin between his shoulder blades.

  Wait. That scratching was the bird. Something had upset it. Risa’s fingers fisted in his hand, and she gasped. Worry swamped out everything else. “Risa? What is it?”

  She turned her head, her eyes wide and haunted. “I felt her.” Digging her teeth into her bottom lip, she added, “But something got in my way.”

  “Could you see where she is?”

  She shook her head, frustration defined in the tendons on her neck. “I think I’d need my third eye for that. But I hoped I could get a sense of the location. Like the sound of a train going by, jet flying over her, a feeling of moving if she’s in a car. Instead, I hit a block. But I did feel how lost and frightened Kendall is.” She blinked, and the stark vulnerability hardened into determination. “Damn it, I have to figure out how to get around that block.”

  Her protectiveness and aching love for her daughter were so vivid, it stole his breath. He admired her resolve to find her baby. “What kind of block?”

  “Magical. It felt oily.” She swallowed, her worry transmitting clearly from her hand to his. “Some kind of demon magic, I think.”

  Not good. Linc stroked her bent fingers and rigid wrist, needing the contact. At least feeling her worry, seeing her frustration about her child, drained off enough lust to think. “We’ll talk to the other witches. They can help.”

  “The witches mated to hunters? Like Carla?”

  “Yes, Darcy, Carla, Ailish and Roxy. For sure, they’ll want to help find Kendall. I’ll set up a video conference.” He pulled out his phone and sent off a text with one hand. “They’ve been using their magic trying to find the spawn, but no luck.”

  “When can I talk to them? I have to get to Kendall ASAP.” Her anxiety clipped her words.

  “Soon, I swear. In the meantime, tell me where you live. I’ll go gather up things for you and your baby.” Sutton would watch over Risa, and that would give Linc a chance to get away once the bloodlust hit.

  “Oh. Damn, that’s right.”

  More problems. “What?”

  She glanced behind him. He assumed she was looking out the French doors to the balcony. “We live in Phoenix. I don’t have a place to stay since we were booked in the Mystique. And my car, it was right in front, so I’m guessing it burned too.”

  She didn’t live in Vegas? Linc spent most of his time in California, which would separate them by almost four hundred miles. How would that work? And why did it bother him so much? He didn’t want a permanent mate.

  “I don’t even know what happened to my purse. I don’t have anything with me.”

  “Hey, breathe.” He frowned at just how stranded she must feel. “I’ll get you whatever you need.”

  Her gaze swung to his. “Kendall. She’s all I need.”

  God. This woman twisted him up when she said things like that. “Why were you guys here in Vegas?”

  She studied her free hand for a few seconds before she answered. “Blythe needed to close out a bank account here.”

  “She’s from Vegas?”

  “We both are, but I moved five years ago. She came out to live with me after she, uh…”

  When she trailed off, he realized how hard it was for her to talk about her friend, the one she saw burn to death only a few hours ago. He opened his mouth, but Risa went on.

  “She moved in with me about four months ago to help care for Kendall while I worked, and also to do some of the administrative end of my business.”

  “You’re a bodyguard?” She’d mentioned that. An odd career choice for a mom. And where was the dad? Why wasn’t he in the picture? He cared more than he liked, already feeling a possessiveness about a baby he’d never met and a woman he’d known only hours.

  “Specialized personal protection for women, yes. Anyway, we came here to finish up a couple things for Blythe.”

  Hmm. There was more to this story. How the hell did they happen to be exactly where Archer spawned? “Did you come with her as a friend, or protection?”

  “Both.” Closing her eyes, she grimaced. “It’s just so awful. I still can’t believe it happened. That Archer killed her.”

  The way she said it sounded personal. Like he’d targeted Blythe. Risa’s obvious grief over the whole thing made him want to pull her into his arms and comfort her. He resisted the urge, settling for stroking her hand as he asked, “Did she know him?”

  That panicked, trapped-animal wildness filled her gaze. Then pain. Regret fisted in his chest, but he made himself push her. “Risa? I know it’s hard to talk about your friend, but we have to find Archer and figure out what he’s doing and how much of a threat he is.” Then he went in for the one thing that seemed to motivate her. “And he either has, or knows where, your baby is.”

  “Blythe and Archer dated briefly well over a year ago. I recognized him, but I don’t know what he was doing at the hotel.”

  So she knew more about the spawn. “You need to tell all of us—”

  “Who is us?”

  “The hunters and witches. Axel will want in on this conference. This is our first lead. We need as much information on Archer as you can give us.”

  She bit her lip. “Can I take a shower first?”

  A minute ago she’d wanted to talk to the witches right away. But her pale face revealed just how damned exhausted she was. “Yes.” He eyed her damaged clothes. “I’ll get something for you to wear.”

  She waved that off. “I can use magic to make these work.”

  She looked so damned alone, it made his chest ache. Rising, he rounded the small table to stand over her while clutching her hand, close enough to lose himself in her stunning eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to let go of you.” He wanted to tug her up into his arms and taste her. The need for sex continually ground into him, an unrelenting pressure on his balls that orgasms relieved for five freaking minutes, then it began all over again. A constant need. Sex and bloodlust.

  Risa could end all that, but at what cost? She was already getting beneath his skin. Touching places he hadn’t allowed any woman to reach.

  “Would it help if I kicked you in the ball
s?”

  He blinked, then laughed at the unexpected comment. Damn, she wasn’t like the other women he’d dated. Not even close. “No ball kicking.”

  “Are you always this much of a buzzkill?”

  “Absolutely, when it comes to my balls.”

  “Then I suggest you let go of my hand and leave. Because I’m in a ball-kicking mood.”

  Amused, he asked, “Do you always threaten the people who save your life?”

  “No, just you.”

  Whoa. Her full lips curved into pure wickedness, flashing straight white teeth. Like he’d taken a punch to the gut, he lost his breath. She was the first woman to knock the breath out of him with just a smile.

  That couldn’t be good. Once, he’d escaped people who’d thought they owned him. No one would own him again. Ever. Not even the woman who possessed the power to save his soul and drop him to his knees with a smile.

  * * *

  Risa followed the sound of voices down the sweeping staircase with the beautiful wrought-iron railing. The foyer had a massive chandelier hanging from the cathedral ceiling. She ignored the living room and crossed a hallway, her boots clunking on the marble floor.

  She really classed up the joint. Growing up, she’d never have worn camo pants and a tank. Her closet had been full of designer clothes she’d adored—until she learned that her father paid for all her luxuries by murdering people as a hired assassin. She’d come to hate all those clothes, shoes, handbags, jewels. The only possession bought by blood money that she’d continued to love was Shelby, her horse.

  Shelby had paid a price for Risa’s love, like her unborn child…

  Stop. None of that helped now. Kendall was what mattered, not the past. She had to lie to find the baby, so she’d do it and deal with the ramifications later.

  Her stomach churned, but she ignored it and headed into a huge kitchen and family room. Her gaze went right past the marble floors and countertops, plentiful cherry cabinets and stainless-steel appliances, to the wall of sliding glass doors opened to a covered terrace overlooking hills and a lake.

  Breathtaking.

  “Risa.” Linc walked into the house. “Come on outside. I have the video conference set up. The witches are using some magic to make it easier to see one another on the screen.”

  Her magic did that shimmy-and-shake thing again, spreading ripples up her center. Damn, had he gotten prettier in the last twenty minutes? His sun-streaked hair tumbled artfully around his chiseled face, framing golden eyes and full, sexy lips.

  Wait, when did she start thinking lips were sexy?

  Shifting her focus, she eyed his black shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, the sleeves revealing thick-muscled arms.

  “Sugar, you’re making me hard checking me out like that.”

  She yanked her attention up to his face.

  One side of his mouth twisted up in a you’re so busted smirk.

  “I was not checking you out.” Nope, the blame went to pure curiosity about her soul mirror. That was all.

  He crossed his arms. “You were staring.”

  She shrugged, striving for disinterest. “I was trying to figure out how much time it takes you to style your girly hair and squeeze yourself into that too-tight shirt, pretty boy.”

  His gaze heated and traveled over her face, hovering at her lips for a few seconds.

  Don’t lick them.

  Her neck tingled, and her chest warmed. His stare on her was almost a caress. Even her nipples tightened with sudden awareness. She didn’t do attraction or whatever this was. In fact, she cut her own hair, avoided makeup and ordered most of her clothes from cheap online sites because she didn’t want any man noticing her.

  “That tank you’re wearing is tight.”

  His voice carried the same smooth and decadent quality as the cream inside a Twinkie. Except as much as she loved Twinkies, they never gave her the shivers like Linc did. She needed to redirect this conversation. “Magic shrinkage. Not my fault.”

  Linc’s eyebrows shot up. “What the hell is magic shrinkage?”

  Don’t laugh. That would tip her hand. “You know how a washing machine shrinks clothes over time? Well, I had to magically repair this shirt—magic shrinkage.”

  He tilted his head, studying her. “You’re lying.”

  She stared back. “Am I?”

  “Not sure yet. But I play poker, and trust me, sugar, I don’t lose. I’ll learn your tells and figure out when you’re lying.”

  That sucked the air out of her swagger. What the hell was she doing verbally sparring with Linc when she needed to find Kendall? “If you’re done flexing, can we get down to business?”

  “Sure thing, I’ll flex for you later.” Closing the distance between them, he settled his large hand on her back. “Come on outside.”

  Out on the terrace, Risa took in the huge space. Heavy couches and chairs covered in thick cushions faced a fireplace with a big-screen TV over it.

  A bald man set aside a laptop and rose from a couch. “Hi, Risa, you look better today. Not sure I introduced myself last night. I’m Sutton West.”

  A gold eagle earring flashed in one ear, and his gentle eyes softened his otherwise harsh face. The man’s build screamed mountain rugged. “Hi, Sutton. Thank you for helping last night.”

  Nodding, he picked up something from the couch and handed it to her. “New phone. Linc said you lost yours. I’ve programmed in all our numbers.”

  Stunned, she automatically reached out to take the phone. Black and sleek, it looked expensive. “Uh, thanks.”

  “No problem.” He shifted his attention toward the big screen. “This is my mate, Carla Fisk. She and the others you’ll meet are in Glassbreakers, California.”

  A woman with white-blonde hair, hazel eyes and a pretty smile filled the screen. “Risa, nice to meet you. We’ll help find your daughter any way we can.”

  Grateful, she released her breath. “Thank you.”

  “I’m Axel Locke.” A big man with raven-black hair, green eyes and an aura of power so strong she could see it on the screen appeared. “And this is Darcy MacAlister.”

  The camera moved over to the woman next to Axel. She waved her fingers. “Hey, Risa. You have no idea how glad I am to meet you.”

  Star struck, she wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her had been skeptical that these people were real. New hope bubbled in her chest. “Uh, okay. I’m happy to meet you too.”

  The screen shifted to a dark-haired hunter leaning back in a chair and radiating a don’t fuck with me attitude. “I’m Phoenix Torq. And this…” he looked up at the woman perched on the arm of his chair, “…is my mate, Ailish Donovan.”

  The witch turned her head to face the camera.

  Risa barely stifled a gasp. Ailish had silvery-blue eyes surrounded by a faint webbing of scars.

  “Don’t look at me, Phoenix, look at her,” Ailish said.

  “Right, sorry.” Phoenix shifted his gaze to Risa. “Ailish is blind, but she can see through my eyes.”

  “No shit?” Slapping a hand over her mouth, she grimaced at her crass outburst.

  Ailish laughed. “It’s true.”

  Relieved that Ailish didn’t seem offended, Risa relaxed. “That’s amazing that you can see through your mate.” Another sign of the depth of the soul-mirror connection. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it.

  The camera moved to another couple. The man leaned against a pool table, with blond hair and a surfer-god face. He had his arms around a woman with red hair and green eyes. “Hi, Risa. I’m Kieran DeMicca. Most people call me Key. The beautiful woman here is my mate, Roxy Banfield.”

  Key’s hand rested protectively over Roxy’s rounded belly. The witch was pregnant, maybe four to six months along.

  That pinged her heart, but Risa forced a smile. “Hi.”

  Axel reappeared on the screen. “That’s everyone here in California, except Eli Stone and his sister, Ginny. You’ll meet them another time.” The man’s e
yes moved over the terrace. “Where’s Ram?”

  “Right here.”

  Risa turned at the new voice behind her, vaguely recalling the man from last night. Now his sweat-slicked blond hair lay flat, and he had a white shirt looped around the back of his neck. His bare chest bore a bronze thunderbird tattoo with wings spread high as if coming in for a landing. But what fascinated her were the twin streaks of jagged lightning streaking from the partly opened eyes.

  Ram reached for his shirt, and Risa jumped back as blue-tinged sparks arced from his fingertips.

  The man frowned. “Sorry. I hoped a run would drain off some of it.”

  “What causes that?” She’d never seen anything like it. Oh sure, static electricity could cause a spark of two, but not this. “Is it magic?”

  “Electrical buildup. It’s nothing.” Ram yanked on his shirt, ignoring the dozens of tiny scorch marks where he touched the cotton.

  Didn’t appear to be nothing to her. He sparked like a downed power line. How did it happen?

  “Let’s get started.” Axel’s voice commanded attention. “I checked in with Wing Slayer. He said no hybrid has ever successfully spawned on earth and survived, that he knows of.”

  Ram moved a few steps away from the group and focused his attention on the screen. “Did he know about Archer?”

  “Not until the hybrid spawned.”

  Linc asked, “So it’s been tried before but the spawn didn’t survive?”

  “Not for the entire process. There’s an initial burst of power which can last twelve to twenty-four hours, and that’s the period the spawn is in now. Next, he’ll go into a hibernation state to finish the transition, and that’s when he’s most vulnerable. Some don’t make it out. They just can’t endure the transition. In a few rare cases, witches have found the hibernating spawn and banished it to the Underworld.”

  Risa sank into a chair as it hit her that Kendall’s future would include having to choose between her human or demon side.

  “He has protection here. The rogues knew he was spawning.” Linc stood by her shoulder, his tone harsh. “I spotted the spawn standing over Risa and her baby, and ran toward her when several rogues attacked me.”