by Ivy Asher
I choke on my chuckle and mentally try to redirect all the blood in my body from trying to pool between my thighs. Fuck, that was hot, and once again the last thing I need to be thinking about right now. I turn away from Bastien’s panty-melting smile, and my eyes land on Torrez. His nostrils flare slightly, and a knowing smile sneaks across his face. Shit, he can probably smell my wet underwear from there. I fixate on a tree to my right, deeming it the only safe place to rest my gaze as I try to regain my composure. I karate chop my surge of lust down and focus again on the task at hand.
“I’m not sure how the source of your magic feels to you, but to me, it feels like a dark cave that sits in the center of my chest. It feels endless to me but not empty. I visualize which branch of magic I want and then call on it. I then weave the magic with my intention and desire. When I feel like I have exactly what I want, I push it out into the world.”
At my use of the word desire, a low grumble sounds off, but I ignore it instead of figuring out the source. My money is on Torrez or maybe Bastien, but I don’t want to dip my toe in that pool. Fuck knows I don’t need anything else getting wet right now.
“Does that make sense to everyone?” I ask, and I’m surprised when everyone nods their head yes. “Sweet. I want each of you to call on your Sentinel magic and then picture pushing that magic into the runes of the weapon or ability you decided to call upon first,” I explain. “Push a small amount at a time until you can feel the runes wake up. You’ll feel the markings almost begin to siphon off the magic you’re holding, until they’re full and an ability flares or a weapon materializes where you instruct it to.”
A staff materializes in the air and drops in front of Enoch. He snags it mid-fall and stares at the weapon in his hand, his eyes filled with awe and his smile proud.
“Fucking show off,” fills my head, and I chuckle and look at Sabin. I give him a nod, letting him know I heard him, before my eyes move around the rest of the group.
Slowly knives appear and then disappear just as fast. Knox lets out a shout of excitement when a long sword appears in his hand, and he’s holding the hilt instead of the blade. Kallan looks shocked as fuck when a whip appears in his hand, and it makes me do a double take, too. I guess that’s what the rune on the side of my hand does. I quickly run through my memory to see if Kallan had any other runes besides that one, but I can’t remember if he did or not. I only remember him showing me that one.
An image of Valen pressing into me on a bed pops into my mind. His knee moves up between my spread thighs, and he rubs against the sweet spot at the apex. I moan and grind down against his thigh, chasing the sensations that the delicious friction causes. Valen leans over me and kisses me, his tongue teasing mine, stoking my need even more. I moan into his mouth, and he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. And then just as quickly as it appeared, the image disappears, and I’m left hollow and unsatisfied.
My head snaps to Valen, and I find his gaze hooded and his head tilted to the side as he drinks me in with a molten look. “Just a small reminder of some things that need to be done before we rush off to kill bad guys,” he shouts across the field. I give an awkward nod, letting him know that his image and words came through loud and clear.
I swallow hard as an echo of his mouth on mine, his fingers pumping in and out of me as strikes of purple magic push us both into an orgasm, rises up from my memories. As turned on as I am, I also realize just how right he is. I need to make sure all of my Chosen are as strong as possible. Must find time to fuck Valen, Sabin, and Torrez, I tell myself and then try not to giggle like a fucking idiot at my To Do list. By the moons, Vinna, get it together. Wasn’t I just droning on about how all of this is life and death shit, and here I am having naughty daydreams about when and where I can seal the deal with my Chosen.
I shake away my distracted thoughts and spend the next four hours walking everyone through calling on the runes that they have, until it starts to appear like it’s second nature to them. The satisfaction that’s bubbling up inside of me fizzles when Kallan yelps in pain and grabs onto his bleeding palm with his other hand. Ryker is there in seconds, knitting up the wound.
“Thank you,” Kallan offers absently as he wipes the remaining blood on the leg of his jeans. I’m trying to figure out what the hell sliced up his hand, since I didn’t think he had runes for any of my swords or… And that’s when it hits me.
I burst into laughter, not able to help it. Kallan’s serious face when he’s in Drill Instructor mode flashes through my mind, and it sends me deeper into a howling fit of giggles. Everyone is staring at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I work hard to calm down long enough to explain what the fuck is wrong with me.
“Kallan?” I ask on a choked laugh. “What other runes do you have?”
Kallan narrows his eyes at me, and I lose it again, tears dripping down my face.
“You got the ass daggers, didn’t you?” I question, my voice a high-pitched squeal of pure delight.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he tells me through gritted teeth.
Our collective audience starts to chuckle as the source of my amusement is finally revealed.
“Let me see,” I beg him, and he gives me an affronted glare.
“No,” he argues and drops both of his hands to cover himself like I can see right through his black workout pants. That makes me laugh even harder. I stare at his bubble butt and try to picture what the runes look like on the bottom of his ass cheeks.
“Quit being a perv,” he demands, and he pivots so I can only see his front. I can tell he’s trying hard not to crack up now too, and I wipe the laugh tears from my face.
“Oh my stars, I fucking needed that,” I admit and give Kallan a grateful smile. “All ass dagger jokes aside, it’s one of the most useful weapons I have,” I reassure him, and he puffs up a little prouder and drops his hands from where they’re hiding his sweet cheek runes.
Bastien pulls his phone from his pocket and swipes it open. “Silva says lunch is ready.” The words aren’t even out of Bastien’s mouth before he and Knox start outright sprinting toward the middle house. I laugh again before the thought of eating a meal with Silva sobers me. “Who wants to volunteer to check mine for poison first?” I ask, only half joking.
“Ours too,” Nash announces as he glares after Bastien and Knox.
I give him a small smile, and before any of my Chosen can interfere, Nash asks, “Can we talk?” The look on his face is so earnest and worried. I instantly feel like shit for not seeking him and his coven out sooner and making sure they were okay. There are just too many egos to stroke and too many guys to keep happy. I can’t keep track of fuck-all at this point.
“Of course,” I tell him and then shoot Valen and the others a pointed look. Valen seems hesitant to leave me alone, so I motion for Nash, Enoch, and Kallan to follow me, and I walk away from the other four who are dawdling instead of leaving to go fuel up on whatever’s been prepared for lunch. I don’t spare a backwards glance as I move closer to the tree line, Nash and the others close on my heels. I get far enough away that none of the others should be able to hear, unless some of them have figured out the runes on their ears already.
“How are you guys holding up? I’m sorry I haven’t asked before now. There’s a lot of crap going down, but that was shitty of me.”
Kallan leans against the trunk of a large pine tree and gives me a forgiving smile. Nash just nods his head in understanding, and Enoch watches me intensely, his feet spread and his arms crossed. No one seems eager to say anything, and I can’t help but feel squirmy under Enoch’s gaze.
“Bro, blink, you’re creeping me out,” I mumble, and Enoch and Kallan both snort out a laugh. “Anyone heard from Becket?” I ask, not able to help myself. I haven’t spent as much time worrying about him as I probably should have, given that I played a part in his current messed up situation, but staring at Becket’s coven, minus him, is weird.
“He’s not answering any o
f our calls. My dad said he’s being cooperative and that they don’t think Becket was involved or aware of anything that his dad had been up to,” Enoch tells me, and a small weight of uncertainty falls away from my chest. “Speaking of, my dad gave me a play by play of what happened that night. Are you okay?”
I shrug, not sure how to answer Enoch’s question. “Killing has never really stuck with me the way it maybe should. I mean, I kill in self-defense or the defense of others, so I always felt justified. But this is the first time I’ve spent any time thinking about the families or loved ones of those I’ve ended. I don’t feel bad about what I did, but I feel for Becket, and it sucks that something I did hurt him.”
“His dad made the choices he did, and he’s the one to blame for what Becket is going through. Not you, Vinna. You did what needed to be done, and Becket will see that when everything comes to light.” Enoch steps forward and pulls me into a side hug. I give him a weak smile, wishing his words could chase away the guilt that’s been gnawing at me.
“Unless you want to lose an arm, you should probably take a step away from her,” Nash advises.
Enoch lets out a frustrated growl but listens to his coven mate. “They’re being ridiculous, and when we figure out how we got marked and exactly what it means, they’re going to have to just suck it up,” Enoch grumbles.
Something in Enoch’s tone triggers a warning inside of me, and I look at him for a second, trying to put my finger on what it is. “Enoch, I meant it when I told them that I don’t think you guys are Chosen.” Something flashes in Enoch’s eyes, but I can’t identify what it is. I look at the others, and I’m surprised to see something similar in Kallan’s eyes too.
“What makes you say that?” Nash asks me, with no hint of emotion indicating how he feels about things one way or another.
I look at each of them in turn and try to sift through what I’m feeling. “My connection to you guys feels different than it does with my Chosen. The attraction is different.”
“So you’re not attracted to us?” Nash asks, confusion lacing his voice.
“No, I mean, you all are hot, don’t get me wrong, but with them, it was like I was body slammed by it. Everything clicked and felt so easy and right.”
“So you want us to be easier? Because I’m game…” Kallan announces as his face lights up with a cheeky smile.
I roll my eyes at him and bite back a chuckle. “No, fuck, why is this so hard to explain? Things are easy with you guys, too, but not in the same way. It’s like how I am with Mave.”
Kallan pretends to take a knife to the heart while croaking out, “Friend-zoned.” He’s still smiling that smart-ass smile, but there’s hurt in his eyes.
“Is that because you just refuse to look at us that way, Vinna? I mean, with what happened with the shifters when we first met and then being taken by the lamia, there’s always some kind of drama getting in the way. Don’t you think that could be clouding how you see us? What if your magic has chosen us too? If we asked you a month ago if you’d have any more mates, you would have insisted the answer was no, but now you have Torrez,” Nash points out.
I snort and shake my head. “That is accurate. I didn’t see Torrez coming, but I was a little bit in denial of the pull.” I sigh. “I don’t know what your markings mean; all I know is it just feels different to me.” I look to Enoch, knowing he needs this hammered home more than the others, but I can tell he’s not hearing me.
“But, like you just said, you don’t know for sure,” Nash points out. I fight the urge to glare at him for once again circling back to the fact that I can’t give a definitive answer. I honestly don’t even know why he’s pressing. Nash has never really looked at me like he’s at all interested.
“Technically, no, I can’t say that I know for sure. But your marks aren’t anything like the marks the rest of my Chosen have, and that supports what I’m feeling.”
Enoch opens his mouth, and I can practically see the argument on the tip of his tongue. “What if I marked you for someone else? You could be Chosen, just not mine. Have you given that any thought?” I ask them, and Enoch promptly swallows his argument and closes his mouth.
“Maybe,” Kallan agrees casually, and then he reaches for my hand. “But how do you explain these then?” he counters as he lines up both of our middle fingers and the identical runes that line them.
“Really rad friendship bracelets,” I say, but it comes out like I’m asking a question. Kallan laughs. “Listen, Ass Daggers,” I start, and he puts a finger up to my mouth to stop me.
“That is not a thing, don’t try to make it a thing. Shitty nicknames can go both ways,” he warns, and I smile.
“Fine, Kallan, to answer your question, I don’t know, and you already know that because I’ve said it a billion times already. I don’t know,” I confess, even though I want to crush the words in my throat to keep them from leaking out and giving any of them hope. I want to squash it once and for all and make everything easier on me and them and the guys, but there’s nothing else I can say to Kallan’s question. As much as I fucking hate it, the reality is I just don’t fucking know.
They don’t feel like my Chosen…but they could be.
7
Lunch is about as awkward as I thought it would be. Each of my Chosen have questions burning in their eyes, and despite my efforts, I haven’t been able to squash the hopeful light that reflects back to me in Enoch’s and Kallan’s gazes. I have no idea what Nash thinks about anything. Sometimes he pushes like he’s on the same page as Enoch and Kallan about wanting to be Chosen, and other times he seems completely indifferent, but it’s the least of my problems right now. Silva, Aydin, and Evrin announce that they’re going to head out after lunch and might be gone for a day or so depending on where the trail of lamia leads.
I finish off the last of a yummy potato dish, whose name I can’t say, and silently wonder if I’ll ever eat another thing not cooked by the sisters without missing them. I make a mental note to call them later today, and then I add Mave to the list too. My ears perk up when I hear the mention of the barn area and the words “off limits” spoken in the same sentence. I fight to keep from snorting at Silva’s warning to stay away, because if he knew shit about me, he would know he pretty much just lit up a neon sign asking me to snoop through whatever is out there.
“I’m prepping some spells with the shifter toxin you all brought, and I don’t want to risk anything messing up the volatile potion until it’s ready,” Silva tells the twins casually, and they nod in understanding.
Knox inquires about what kind of spells Silva is working on, but as soon as the discussion gets technical, I can’t follow what the hell they’re talking about anymore. Ratios of ingredients to woven magic, the time it takes to adequately cook a certain potion, the time it takes a spell to settle. It all sounds so intense, and I’m reminded of something Sabin once said about how Spell casters were like chefs. I haven’t seen Knox in his element with his branch of magic, but it’s not hard to picture him apron-clad and cooking away, with a wide smile on his face as he rocks out to music and adds a pinch of this and a dash of that.
Like he can feel his name in my thoughts, Knox looks over and gives me the same wide smile I was just picturing in my mind. I haven’t seen much of that smile in the last forty hours. A part of me wants to seize it and shove it in the pockets of my soul so I can pull it out whenever I need it and Knox isn’t feeling obliged to send a new one my way. Aydin pushes his chair back from the table and stands up, his eyes jumping to each of us briefly.
I don’t know what it is about Silva and this entire situation that has me feeling leery, but I can’t shake the feeling. I didn’t miss that he never answered my question about how he and Lachlan and Keegan ended up here, and I decide to see if I can find some answers for myself as soon as Silva, Aydin and Evrin leave. I debate for a moment about including the others in my hunt for clues, but with all the tension and bickering still going on, I decide it will just be e
asier if I check things out on my own first.
“If we need anything, we’ll call. If shit goes down, I’ll send a sign. If neither of those things happen, then we’ll see you soon.” Aydin laughs, and it’s joined by a couple chuckles here and there, but I’m not in a laughing mood. I don’t think that doing the very thing that got Lachlan and Keegan caught by the lamia is exactly the soundest of plans, but I doubt Silva would listen to anything I have to say about that. I keep my reservations to myself and my mouth shut as Evrin and Silva join Aydin in standing up. They all say a brief goodbye and then stalk out of the room.
I turn to Sabin and trace my finger over one of the trees tattooed on his arm to get his attention. His forest-green eyes meet mine, and his plump lips offer me a sweet smile.
“When everyone’s done eating, we need to continue training. I’ll meet you back there, but will you run them through the same exercises we were doing earlier?” I ask.
“Of course. You okay?” he queries, and I nod and give him a demure smile before pushing away from the table. A few of the guys watch me leave, but no one says anything, which I’m grateful for. It means I can save my diarrhea cover story for some other time. I sneak through the main house and out the back door with no one the wiser. I check out the back of the house to make sure no one is watching me, but the windows are empty, and the faint sound of the guys talking is still coming from the direction of the dining room.
I slink away from the white stucco walls, out toward the trees, moving in the direction of the roof that I saw earlier when Aydin pointed it out. It’s dark out again. Apparently, Belarus gets very little daylight in the fall and winter, and we’ve passed the three-hour window where the sun comes out just long enough to remind us of its existence before it flips us the bird and disappears once more. There are enough flood lights on the back of the property and around the house that training in the dark isn’t a problem, but as I move further into the trees, I become more aware of how foreign everything around me is. There’s an ominous feel to the forest here, and I don’t know if the trees themselves are radiating that or if it’s my mind and my suspicions getting the better of me.
