Caged Magic

by Jennifer Lyon

  After taking his knife from the holster, he held up his arm. The veins bulged and writhed, darkening with bloodlust.

  Cut her. You felt her power tonight, cut her. She’s your witch! Yours to cut and feel her hot blood cooling the burn…

  Christ. His fingers tightened around the hilt, and the wicked, sharp silver blade caught the lights. He could see himself doing it, see himself ripping off his clothes, cutting Risa… He remembered how fucking awesome witch blood felt. The power kick as it hit his skin and sank in, the rush of pure strength and bliss.

  Weariness and soul-deep loneliness made him wonder just why he fought so hard, resisting the one thing that felt so damned good.

  He gazed at the witch. She lay there covered in sweat, her hair sticking to her pale face.

  Sharp pain hit his back and ran down his arm. His hand numbed, and the knife slid from his grasp to clatter on the tile floor.

  Damned bird. Touching Risa’s blood, kissing her, then being soaked in her magic from the shield, had woken the creature further. “Found my nerves, did you?” Shaking the numbness from his hand, Linc snatched up the knife. “Do that when I’m fighting and we both die.” Bringing up his other hand, he sliced his palm and laid it on Risa’s arm.

  The too-warm, sweat-slicked skin and her shaking gave him an idea of her misery, but he couldn’t feel anything. As her soul mirror, he should be able to draw out some of her pain and help her. Come on. Finally, a vague, barely there twinging traveled up his arm, more of an impression of suffering.

  A whiff of cinnamon, faint but there, caught his attention. Her magic flickered, responding to his blood. This had to help her. Moving his hand, he watched as the blood he left behind faded, then disappeared.

  Soaked into her skin.

  He sucked in a breath, the sight of his blood penetrating into her, becoming part of her, tripping something primal in his chest. Needing to feel her against him, he scooped his arms beneath her and cradled her to his chest as he sat back on the floor. Her magic brushed his skin in the faintest shimmer, weak but there, definitely responding to him. Looking down into her face, he desperately wanted her to open her eyes. To see the fiery, determined light that glowed there, the same woman who’d asked him if he needed her to help him let go of her by kicking him in the balls.

  His mouth quirked at the memory. Risa had a tough and sweet side. He liked that a hell of a lot and found himself wanting to discover more about her, figure out how her mind worked, what her hopes and dreams were.

  What caused her to shut down when he’d kissed her so he could fix it? Protect her from it.

  But he couldn’t let her break from the soul screams. “Fight, Risa. You need to keep your mind intact. Your baby needs you.” And so did Linc. Not forever, of course, but to break his curse. For that alone, he’d give her anything he could.

  Except his heart.

  ~ 9 ~

  Risa’s entire world narrowed to screams and terror. Soaking in horror, she shuddered and bounced from murder to murder, unable to find a way out, trapped, exhausted and hopeless as another piercing scream raked across her mind. Shuddering, she retreated deeper, burrowing in a crack, trying to hide. To stop existing at all and make the pain stop.

  Something touched her. Feathery soft and tinged with the faintest trace of magic. It didn’t hurt her, didn’t scream and force her to relive a murder.

  What was it?

  As she tried to focus, the screams faded into the background. Slowly the mental image took shape.

  A bird looked at her with yellow-ringed eyes. He raised his wings slightly and fluttered his gray-and-white feathers. Staring at him eased her and pulled her away from the angry, hate-filled souls. Risa locked in on the mental image, concentrating on the bird. When he began to float up, she instinctively followed.

  The higher they rose, the more clear the image became. She strained until recognition bloomed.

  Falcon. The tattoo from Linc’s back.

  Awareness seeped in. Her first two chakras opened, sluggish magic inching out and spreading, gaining strength as she and the bird surfaced from the soul screams.

  Another chakra opened, and more magic spilled out.

  Dumbfounded, Risa couldn’t drag her internal gaze from the wings as they gained more definition. They began to sweep up and down, as if in flight. Powerfully majestic, yet they moved with elegance over the landscape of her mind. She followed along, almost as if she and the bird had an invisible tether linking them.

  Soul-mirror connection. If Risa had had any doubt, she believed it now. Every sweep of the falcon’s wings freed more of her magic and her.

  The souls stirred again, tiny flashes of light snapping and popping. The pressure in her head ramped up as she began to feel torn, dragged into two directions.

  Toward the falcon.

  Trapped by the souls.

  One scream began, then more joined in. The pitch stabbed her head like red-hot knitting needles.

  No! Oh God, she couldn’t do it again.

  The snapping, popping lights converged on the wings in a full-on attack. The fierce screech of the bird added to the racket. The wings began to fade.

  Her magic slipped away, draining like water between her fingers. She couldn’t catch it.

  One scream broke away and headed toward her. The piercing sound dug deep into her head until the soul touched her magic. Then it yanked, trying to capture Risa and force her into reliving the memory of its death.

  “Fight, Risa. You need to keep your mind intact. Your baby needs you.”

  Linc’s voice, smooth and liquid, pulled at her, tugging her and the bird free of the souls. She became aware of a strong arm curled around her back and warm, firm fingers sliding over her stomach, dipping low over her panties, then up higher, past her belly button, to the hollow between her ribs. And higher still.

  Warm shivers danced and moved with his touch, creating a pleasant sensation. Gentle, swirling caresses softened her muscles, yet tingles rose and skated over her skin. Her breath hitched, then released in odd little sighs.

  Honing in on it, she tracked the path of the fingers sweeping over her bra to her chest. The rough fingertips drew easy circles and lightly brushed her throat.

  A deep ache throbbed between her thighs. Magic spilled out and flowed toward his touch.

  “That’s it, Risa. Let me help you.”

  She recognized Linc’s voice. Soothing and coaxing. His breath feathered over her face, causing her to arch slightly, seeking…she wasn’t sure.

  He pulled her closer, then moved his fingers down, skimming the inside swell of her breasts.

  Her nipples tightened and ached. Such a sweet little torment. His caress moved to her stomach, using one finger to rim her belly button.

  “I feel you relaxing. The bird’s relaxing too.” He slipped his hand lower, flirting with the elastic of her panties.

  Her thoughts turned thick, languid. The souls quieted, and a gentle touch of wings brushed her chakras.

  Was this sanity? Or was she sinking into a world of sensation that wasn’t real? Terror began to claw at her. What if she was lost in her mind?

  “Risa, open your eyes.”

  His smooth voice shifted into a sharp command that she obeyed. Linc’s face filled her vision. His light brown eyes were dominated by dark, swollen pupils. Sitting on his lap gave her a view of the flush riding across his cheekbones. His erection throbbed beneath her hip.

  Sudden, harsh reality washed through her. She’d been unconscious on the floor, covered in sweat and agony, and she had made him hard?

  “What are you doing?” Her voice cracked.

  “Hey, easy, I’m helping you.”

  She glanced down. “I don’t have a shirt on.”

  “I took it off. You were sick. I gave you some of my blood, then traced your chakras, calling out your magic.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not just magic. It’s more.”

  Linc’s eyes softened. “It’s desire, sugar.
That’s all.”

  She frowned at him, but the movement hurt. “I don’t like it. Let me up.” They were too close. She wasn’t in control. Worse, what had she said while trapped in the soul screams?

  Sick shame made her need to escape. Hide. Find a way out of her own skin. She’d done awful things by luring people, mostly men, to their murders. Let them use her body, because as her father said, when a man had his dick out, his brain shut off and made him easy to kill.

  Linc scooped her up, set her on the edge of the tub where she could rest against the cool wall, and laid his hand on her thigh. “I need to touch you. Bloodlust.”

  With no strength to argue, she just sat. Breathed. Regrouped. “There’s a hole in the door.” Fist sized. She kept her gaze on that, anything to avoid the huge man sitting on the floor at her feet, hand resting on her leg. The contact confused her. It should scare her. She should hate it. Why didn’t she hate him touching her?

  “Hey. Can you look at me?”

  Could. Didn’t want to, but that made her a coward, and she hated enough about herself. She shifted her gaze to the concern in his eyes.

  He stroked his thumb over her thigh. “The door was locked, and when you didn’t answer, I punched it to get in here. You were unconscious or close to it, so I got Carla in here—”

  “Carla’s here? She saw me?”

  “Yes.”

  It took everything she had to hold his gaze. “You know about the soul screams?”

  “Carla used magic to see what was happening to you.”

  She dropped her stare to his hand spread on her thigh. Yep, add coward to her list. Now she’d add begging. The irony didn’t escape her—begging for the one thing she hated, sex. Kendall. Think of Kendall. “We only have to have sex once to complete the bond. You were hard when I came out of the screams. Men don’t care about a woman’s past when they just want to have sex, right?” So what if he was revolted now that he knew she had souls in her magic. He’d still get off, and the curse would break for him.

  His fingers tightened on her leg. “What are you talking about?”

  “The soul-mirror thing. It’ll break your curse. Come on, Dillinger, now’s not the time to be picky about who you have sex with.” Oh nice. That kind of sarcasm would get him right in the mood.

  Silence.

  Crap. “We both know this isn’t a romance. You don’t have to like me to, uh, make use of my body. Other men have done it.” Desperation spilled out of her. “Please. I don’t know how else to find Kendall.”

  “Risa.”

  She took a breath. No tears, she wouldn’t cry. “What?”

  His biceps flexed and rippled. “I’ve had sex with a lot of women, but not one of them was just a body to me. They were women sharing themselves with me so I could get through another day, another hour, another fucking five minutes without the curse frying my veins and pickling my brain. And in return, I made sure they enjoyed it too.”

  His passion, the way he talked about those women, made her magic retreat deeper into her chakras. She wasn’t going to be any kind of memory for him, she’d just be…

  A woman whose body he made use of.

  Didn’t matter. She couldn’t let it matter. Needing distance, she jumped up. Woozy, she slapped her hand against the wall to steady herself. “I’m not other women.”

  His hand closed around her arm, and he turned and pressed her shoulders to the plaster. Towering over her, he glared down at her. Fury pumped off him in hot waves.

  She lifted her chin, refusing to show fear.

  “Who hurt you, Risa? What men used your body? Tell me, damn it.”

  Exhausted, barely able to stand, even leaning against the wall seemed like an effort, she sighed. “What does it matter?”

  His gaze bored into hers. “It matters. I’m going to find them and kill them.” His fingers bracketed her arm gently, in sharp contrast to his fierce glower.

  “They’re dead. Even my father.”

  His body tightened until the cords in his neck stood out. “Your father raped you?”

  “No.” She looked away, the sheer intimacy along with her fatigue cracking her normal barriers. She closed her eyes, admitting a deeper truth. Linc’s kindness, the way he touched her, cared for her—Risa had never experienced this with a man.

  He released her biceps, laying his forearm on the wall alongside her head, the other hand gently catching her face. “What did your father do to you? We have a deal. Nothing you tell me is going make me turn away from you.” He caressed her cheek with his thumb. “We need each other. Why not be friends while we’re at it?”

  Friends. With Linc. He offered her so much and in the end, she would destroy it. Too tired to resist, she told him the truth. “My father was an assassin.”

  Linc’s thumb froze on her face, and long seconds ticked by. Then he said, “Your last name, Faden. Christ, I never connected it.” He seemed to refocus on her. “Vic Faden was your father?”

  “You knew him?” That couldn’t be good. How would Linc have known him?

  He shoved away and turned as if he couldn’t bear to look at her one more second. “All those souls in your magic…”

  His back bunched and twisted. Aware he’d evaded her question about knowing her dad, she stated the facts. “They are his kills. The ones I tried to protect.” And failed.

  He whipped around, staring at her. “He took you with him on his jobs?”

  “My mom used to shill for him, lure his targets to where he needed them. Distract them, and then he’d kill them. But Mom was murdered.” Risa couldn’t stop the words spilling out of her. Part of her wanted this connection with Linc. The other part of her wanted the truth to drive him away. Keep the distance between them.

  Sucking in a breath, she went on. “I was fourteen when she died. Everything changed. We were wealthy. I thought my parents were consultants. I had closets filled with beautiful clothes, a miniature horse…but once my mom died, my father needed a new shill.”

  Linc reached across the bathroom, catching her hand. His warm, firm fingers anchored her. Startled, she lifted her gaze to him.

  “Come here, Risa.”

  She started to shake her head, but pain pierced her skull. She hadn’t recovered yet. It would take hours of sleep to regain some strength.

  “Here’s the thing. If you want your high magic, you’re going to have to learn my touch is not like the others. I am not just making use of your body.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Not while I still have a soul. We clear?”

  She resisted for a second longer, searching over him with her gaze. When he showed her this kindness, acting as if he cared enough to get to know and understand her, it opened her up, left her too vulnerable.

  “Take the first step. That’s all you have to do.” His voice flowed smoothly to wrap around her like a silky ribbon. Her chakras relaxed, and her muscles unlocked.

  She took the step.

  And won a smile from him. His face softened, a dent forming in his chin while his eyes crinkled. This wasn’t Linc’s charming smile, the one he tossed off with his fast and glib comebacks. That smile had polish.

  This one was real, sexy, and made her feel like smiling back. Unsure what to do, she just stood there, staring at the amazing grin on his face.

  He reached out, caught her waist and tugged her between his thighs. He tucked her beneath one arm, surrounding her with his body heat.

  “Do we have to be so close?”

  He looked down, serious again. “Yes. You’re safe. You know it or you wouldn’t have taken that step. I would bet my balls you’ve developed finely honed, self-protective instincts. Now finish the story. Your mom died, your father needed a new shill. You were appointed with no say in the matter, I take it?”

  Risa let out her breath as some of her tension eased. “I was a beautiful girl, everyone said so. I was so vain. I thought it made me special. I grew up on compliments.” It made her sick now. Disgusted. “He used that, made me dress in cloth
es to show me off and lure men to places he could kill them.” She shivered in spite of the heat radiating from him, partly from the horror of her memories, partly the aftereffects of the soul screams. “If the guy made use of me before my father got there, well, he didn’t worry, as long as they didn’t damage my looks.”

  He pulled her in tighter, rubbing her back. “You were raped.”

  The three words came out harsh, in sharp contrast to his gentle touch. “After the first time, I learned to not feel it much anymore.”

  “Your magic protected you. That’s why you went cold when I kissed you.”

  She stared at the floor. “Yeah, but I couldn’t protect the ones he killed. Not all of his marks hurt me. Some were even nice, and a few were women.” The need to explain welled up. “I was just learning about my magic then, and figuring out what I could do with it. I tried to protect his marks with magic, but my father knew how to hurt me to disable my shield. The souls in there are all the ones I failed. I was so weak. Eventually, though, I found another way. I went to the police, testified against him and got him convicted of murder. He went to prison, where he later was killed in some kind of fight.”

  A beat of time passed, and his hand on her back slowed the caress.

  Nothing changed in his expression, and yet she sensed an odd tension in him. Unable to read him, she filled the silence. “I tried to do something better with my life and magic and became a bodyguard. Witch karma prevents me from causing harm with my magic, but I can shield, and I know how to use a gun.”

  Linc searched her face. “How did you manage to have a baby while being a bodyguard?”

  Pure panic gripped her—of course a bodyguard couldn’t exactly drag a baby around on jobs with her. Think! “That’s why Blythe moved in to help me.” She changed the subject. “How did you know who my father was?”

  Linc stilled. Too still. “I hear things.”

  “So this friends-and-trust thing, it only goes one way.” Time to pull herself together. She shoved out of his arms. Dizziness spun and tilted the suddenly too-hot bathroom. Risa grabbed on to the edge of the counter.