“If you thought your mom could help me, why didn’t you bring me here days ago?” I kept my voice low, even though I was sure Lavinia could hear me. She wasn’t more than five feet away.
Wes actually looked contrite. “Honestly? It never occurred to me. It never crossed my mind that your aura might be able to give us a clue. I was looking at it from a professional standpoint, trying to find clues as to why it happened. And it wasn’t until I was telling her about you, and what was going on, that she suggested she might be able to see something. I’m sorry.”
I had to smile. I patted his thigh. “Well, if you didn’t think of it, you didn’t. I can’t fault you for that.”
“Don’t think I’m not still pissed that you kept him from me for weeks,” Lavinia called, rolling what looked like an incredibly large joint.
Wes groaned like he’d heard this before. “It was barely two weeks ago that we met, Mom. Give me a break.”
“That’s still weeks. Plural. Get up, you big goof. I can’t do this if you’re plastered to his side.”
I decided I really liked Lavinia. She crossed the room as soon as Wes had risen and moved away. She stood in front of me for a long moment before she handed me the rolled-up paper.
I eyed it dubiously. “You want me to smoke it?”
She laughed, a good sound, deep and from her gut. It made me smile, too. “You’re right, Westcott. He is funny.” Then she dropped her attention to me, and her gaze went from amused to affectionate. “I’m going to light it, say a little spell, and that will reveal what’s at the root of your problem. Okay?”
“Sure.”
A flick of her finger, and the far end burst into a purple flame. It burned brightly for a moment, then died out completely. After another second, the paper and its contents started to smolder, releasing a fine smoke that wafted around my head. I tried to sit still and not fidget as it blew into my face. I had to blink fast when my eyes started to water.
I didn’t speak Latin—I’d never had to learn it for scrying—so I had no idea what Lavinia’s low and soft words meant or what the spell was supposed to do. Her eyes went unfocused, and she seemed to be staring through me. I held my breath.
I jumped when she suddenly snatched the rolled paper from my hand. She gave a soft laugh and a quick apology as she pinched the end to snuff it out. I tried not to hyperventilate.
“Well?” Wes asked when the silence had stretched for several minutes.
“He’s got an engagement spell on him,” Lavinia reported, her voice matter-of-fact.
“Fuck,” Wes bit out.
I felt lost. “Huh?”
Simultaneously, they both looked at me like I was crazy. I scowled. I had focused my discipline early, and I didn’t bother to learn a lot of things that I probably should have. It wasn’t like I could go back in time and fix that now. I just wanted someone to tell me what the hell was going on.
“Here you are, balking at committing to me, and you’re already engaged,” Wes teased, trying to lighten the mood. But I heard the underlying worry.
Lavinia smacked her son hard on the shoulder, then sat next to me and took my hand. “Someone has put a hex on you that keeps some of your spells engaged. Even though you think you close them out, they’re actually still running, drawing on your energy and magic. It’s why you’ve been so tired, and why your magic depletes so quickly.”
“But—” I drew a shuddering breath. “It’s been going on for weeks! By all accounts, a spell running that long should have killed me by now. I should be nothing more than a skin-and-bones corpse.”
Wes’s arm went around my waist, and he hugged me to him. I leaned against him, inhaling deeply, drawing comfort from his familiar scent. His hand rubbed my side.
“You know I’m not going to let that happen,” he murmured in my ear.
“He’s probably what’s been keeping you alive this whole time,” Lavinia offered. “By continually augmenting your magic, he’s keeping you stable. I mean, it’s a gradual thing at first, exponentially getting worse the longer your spells are active. Oh, and you’re probably effected by the influx of magic in the world, too. It’s a good thing this happened now because, any other time, you’d have been dead by now.”
I couldn’t stop shaking. When Wes had been tracking down Jordan Roberts, we’d been apart for six days. It sounded to me like he’d shown up at my house just in time.
“It’s fine,” Wes soothed, his voice nothing more than a deep rumble in my ear.
I jerked back. “It’s not fine! Someone wants me dead. I’ve never done anything to anyone. Who would do such a thing?”
Lavinia’s tone sounded apologetic when she said, “I’m sorry. I can’t see who. Only that it’s been done.”
“I’ll find whoever has done this to you. They won’t get away with it. I promise,” Wes vowed, his voice hard and cold.
I shuddered. Though I would’ve never thought I’d be glad to hear that tone of voice from Wes, I actually appreciated it in this moment. This sort of thing had never occurred to me, and now that I was faced with it, I was downright scared.
I felt Lavinia’s smaller hand on my back. “I can protect you from further enchantments of any sort. It’ll take me a few hours to work the wards, but I’ll charm something you can wear. It won’t stop what’s already been done but it’ll keep you safe from further attacks.”
“No, I—” I drew a breath. “I can’t accept that. I can’t afford—”
“Don’t say ‘no,’ babe.” Wes tried to calm me with that low, soothing voice. I started to shake my head, but he caught my face in his hands and looked me right in the eye. “Don’t even think of money right now. You’re safety is too important. Do you hear me?”
“Like I would ever charge my son-in-law for anything,” Lavinia scoffed, rising from her seat.
I sputtered, but I couldn’t get any words to come out.
“Not helping, Mother,” Wes warned.
She laughed. “Like you two aren’t going to be married eventually. Give me a break. I see the pink in your aura, Julian Thomas. Love is not far off.”
I felt like my head was spinning. Too much information, too many topic changes, too much generosity. I started breathing heavy and fast. Panic welled in my gut, and I couldn’t swallow it. What the hell was going on? I couldn’t get a handle on my emotions, my thoughts, or anything else.
Wes kissed me. Long and slow and deep. I clung to him, kissing him back as hard as I could. He was the only real thing right now. I could feel his solidness and warmth under my hands and mouth. I could breathe him in. He was mine, and he wanted me. Everything else just didn’t matter.
* * * *
I hadn’t said a word since we’d left Lavinia’s house and returned to his place. Wes tried to engage me in conversation, but I didn’t really hear him. Eventually, he stopped trying to get me to talk and let me stare at the wall. I could hear him banging around in the kitchen, and I’m sure whatever he was cooking would taste delicious. If I had an appetite and wanted to eat, that is. Which I didn’t. What I wanted was to crawl into a hole and forget any of this had happened.
Someone was trying to kill me. And not just a shot to the head that would have been relatively painless and over quickly. No, whoever cast that spell was trying to draw it out and make me suffer. I wracked my brains, hoping to figure out who could possibly want me dead. I was sure I had pissed off a lot of dark practitioners over the years. My scrying had led to many a capture and prosecution. But the thing was, not a single one of them would have known it was me. I was always kept anonymous.
Of course, someone could have hacked into DEMA’s records to find out who had been behind finding the information. The thought chilled me to the bone. DEMA had state-of-the-art defenses—both magical and practical—to guard that kind of information. But that didn’t mean someone couldn’t break in. Was it just me who was suffering? I hadn’t heard about anyone else who had experienced greater fatigue, or worse, of someone who had expired
. But that didn’t mean much. I kept to myself most of the time. There could be an epidemic of this and I would never know.
No, there couldn’t be. If anyone else was having this problem, I might not have heard about it, but Wes would have. He would’ve put the pieces together. If that had been the case, Wes would’ve figured it out a lot faster. It had to be just me. Or perhaps so few people that no one had realized the pattern.
But no matter the case, someone was out to get me. Specifically, I couldn’t even wrap my head around that. I tried to be a good person. I kept my head down, and did my job. I tried to stay out of everyone else’s way. I couldn’t think of a single person who would want to target me for this kind of vicious attack.
“Doesn’t matter who it is, I’ll find them.”
Wes’s voice startled me, and I jumped. I whipped around my head to see him leaning against the other edge of the couch, his gaze fixed on me. I blinked. I hadn’t heard him approach.
“You were talking out loud,” he said softly. “I thought you were finally talking to me, so I came closer. I’m going to find whoever it was, babe. I’m going to make them remove the hex, and then I’ll see them punished. And I know just where to start looking.”
Somehow, I knew exactly who he was talking about. “It wasn’t Mara.”
Wes quirked an eyebrow at me, the expression so familiar, I felt myself relaxing a little.
“It wasn’t. Look, I know my sister is a raving bitch, and she’s apparently against every choice I’ve made, but she wouldn’t do this. She’s content to just cut me out.”
Wes didn’t look convinced. He opened his mouth, but a soft crack interrupted him. We both turned toward the sound. A small package had appeared on the coffee table near my knee. I shrank back from it.
“It’s okay,” Wes soothed, coming closer. “It’s from my mom. Not only is it accompanied by the scent of cloves, but only she and Max have the ability to zap things directly to me here.”
I nodded, believing him, but I still didn’t uncoil.
Wes picked up the package and peeled back the sealed flap. He peered inside, then a grin lit his face. “Mom must really like you. Last time she worked a charm for me, she put it on a big, gaudy necklace I ended up having to wear for three weeks. This is much better. Hold out your hand.”
I did as he asked. He upended the package and a small signet ring fell into my hand. I gave it a cautious once-over, but it appeared harmless. It was actually really nice—small and thin, neither feminine nor masculine, with a stylized “P” in the center.
“Put it on,” Wes encouraged.
I eyed him for a moment. Then, with shaking hands, I slid it onto the ring finger of my left hand. A perfect fit. And the moment I had it all the way flush to my knuckle, a jolt of power zinged up my arm. I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut. But just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared.
“It was my grandfather’s,” Wes said, his tone full of reverence.
I sucked in a breath and grabbed the ring to pull it off. “I can’t—”
“You can.” Wes big hands wrapped around mine. “In fact, I’d be really happy if you did.”
I shook my head even though I stopped trying to remove the ring. There was no mistaking what Wes meant. But that really was too fast and I wasn’t even going to entertain the thought. I swallowed a couple of times. “I’ll wear it as protection until we can figure this out. But once it’s done, I’m giving it back.”
“If that’s what you think is best.” Wes had tried for casual, but failed. He headed into the kitchen, his shoulders full of tension. I knew I’d hurt his feelings, not my intent, but I couldn’t even think of anything long-term with him at the moment. Still, I felt the need to soothe some of the hurt.
“I care about you a great deal, Wes. You know that.”
His shoulders sagged, and he half-turned back to me. “I know.”
“And I’m not saying ‘never.’” I smiled. “I’m saying ‘too fast.’”
He gave a small smile in return, and I knew I’d amused him a little with that, which had been my intention. When I held out a hand, he gave a playfully put-upon sigh, and walked toward me, taking my hand and letting me pull him onto the couch.
“How soon is dinner?” I asked, creeping closer, but not quite getting into his lap.
Wes squinted. “The casserole has to bake for an hour. I didn’t think you’d be hungry quite yet.”
“I’m not,” I assured him, then finally crawled onto his lap. His arms immediately encircled my waist and pulled me close. “Will you take me to bed? Please? Help me to forget and feel normal for a while?”
His gaze went dark. “Are you sure?”
I nodded and licked my lips. “I’m sure. Want you. Want to feel you. Don’t want to think.”
Wes assessed me for a long moment, then he rolled his hips so I could feel every inch of him. “Who says we need a bed?”
My groan made me sound like a slut, but I didn’t care. I wanted him, and I wanted to show him I did. I wanted to get lost in his body and feel safe. I wanted everything he had to give me, then I wanted more. What better way than to let him fuck me any way he wanted, and to just lose myself in him.
His hand cupped the back of my head, pulling me down until our lips barely touched. “I’m going to fuck you on this couch. I’m going to make you scream my name. I’m going to make you feel so good and safe, that all your worries disappear. But first you have to promise me one thing.”
His rumbling words made me whimper. “Anything,” I panted.
“When we’re all done, you’re going to talk to me about everything swirling around in your brain and you’re going to let me help you sort it out.”
Not what I had expected, but I really couldn’t argue. I nodded. “I promise.”
His lips devoured mine, his tongue pushing in and claiming my mouth. I held him so tightly I was probably strangling him. But Wes didn’t protest, simply shifted our positions until his body blanketed mine. He rolled his hips, a gentle rocking motion so our trapped cocks rubbed together through the fabric of our pants. I had to rip my mouth from his in order to breath. Wes’s mouth slid down along my jaw, nuzzling and nipping until he got to my throat. When I tried to thrust up against him, his hands clamped down on my hips and held me still.
“My way,” he growled.
I moaned.
He had us naked in minutes, and I didn’t even care that sweat on my back and ass made me stick to the leather. I had my hands clenched in his hair as he kissed his way down my body. When he reached my cock, he took just the head into his mouth and gave teasing, gentle sucks. It was torture and I whimpered and begged. He made a pleased sound, sucked hard, and lifted his head.
“Turn over,” he commanded.
I scrambled to comply. I loved getting fucked from behind, and Wes knew it. We tried several different positions in the past week, but this way felt the best to me. I think Wes would have liked more variety, but he never complained. He wanted to do what I liked best.
With quick efficient movements, Wes had me positioned over the arm of the couch, my belly pressing against it and one foot on the floor. Spread open to his touches, I babbled nonsense about how good his fingers felt, how hot and ready I was. He moved into position behind me, then, at the same time he bit the back of my shoulder, he thrust inside.
I howled.
Wes started a heavy, punishing rhythm. No slow and easy start this time. He fucked me hard and I loved every second of it. It was exactly what I needed in that moment. I didn’t know how Wes knew that, but I didn’t care. I whined and moaned, calling his name.
Every slap of skin, every grunt from Wes, every nip and bite to the back of my neck, drove me higher toward the edge. When he reached around and grabbed my cock, he squeezed hard, pulling tightly, and my back arched as I came, all my muscles seizing up until I couldn’t even breathe. Wes held still as the world all but exploded around me. When nothing remained that he could milk out of my dick, I sagged
forward. Wes rubbed a hand up and down my back, and I tried to remember how to breathe.
“Ready?” Wes asked after a long few minutes.
I readjusted my grip on the edge of the couch, planted my foot more firmly on the floor, and nodded.
Wes kissed the back of my neck and started thrusting again, in and out, hard, then harder still. I squeezed my muscles around him, encouraging him, wanting him to come in my ass. A few more strokes, and he stiffened, growling out my name. Then he collapsed on top of me, wedging his legs underneath mine so his softening dick wouldn’t escape my hole. He liked to stay inside me as long as possible.
“That what you needed?”
“Mmm, yes. Thank you,” I mumbled.
Wes chuckled, the sound reverberating through my body. “So polite.”
I grinned, then winced as we separated. We showered together, with more kissing and touching than actual cleaning. Once dressed—me in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, him in nothing but jeans—we sat to eat. Wes served us both before he spoke.
“You still mad at me?”
I let out a weak chuckle. “No. Not really. I mean, I get why you did it that way, because you’re right, I probably would have refused to go. I just wish you’d told me.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t keep something like that from you again.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Wes started eating. I pushed the food around my plate, taking the occasional bite. It tasted good—Wes’s cooking always did—but I just didn’t have much of an appetite. Wes let this go on for a good half an hour, until his plate was empty and I’d managed to choke down at least half of my portion.
Then he fixed me with a penetrating stare. “Talk.”
“I’m scared,” I said, and those two words opened the floodgate. “If this had happened at any other time, if magic wasn’t growing more powerful or I hadn’t met you, I’d be dead by now. If something keeps us apart, I’m going to waste away. I can’t even wrap my brain around it. And until we figure out who did this, there’s no way we can undo it. What if we never find them? What if I have to spend the rest of my life on the verge of dying? What if I can never do my job the way I did before? Nothing makes sense, and I don’t know what to do with myself!”
Beholden Page 10
