Enthralled Magic (The Circle Series Book 1)

by Naomi L Scudder

  That was both a blessing and a curse. Amari had a devoted client base, but there was a certain amount of fighting between the different types of skilled practitioners. Amari had broken up many brawls and brokered many treaties from behind his bar. He'd become the go-to arbitrator for disputes among practitioners. He'd even popularized the term "practitioner" to refer to the magically inclined.

  With so many flavors of magic and ethnic twists on practices, it was impossible to guess how anyone self-identified. "Gypsy," for instance, which Amari technically was, was considered a slur. Someone new to their power or unfamiliar with the Roma people would have no clue.

  Amari was easygoing about it - and I was only half-Roma, and didn't care - but most others weren't so laid back. So Amari came up with a blanket term for anyone practicing intentionally.

  "You know there's another time you glow, besides when you're writing," Amari said and stepped into my space.

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Yeah," he spoke softly in my ear, pulling me deeper into his loft, "when we're together."

  "Is that so?" I asked and shrugged out of my jacket, letting it hit the floor.

  "But only when it's really good," he murmured, his lips only a breath away from mine. "When we're aligned and synced with each other, completely tuned in to that moment and nothing else."

  "And how do we make that happen?" I teased and pulled away, leading him with a trailing hand to the bedroom space. I couldn’t wait to have him, but I loved the game of foreplay.

  Instead of answering Amari cocked his head, much like a dog listening to something unheard by its human. He silenced my unasked question with a finger to his lips. A full minute passed before he spoke. "Someone is breaking into the bar."

  "I don't hear anything," I said in disbelief.

  "Neither do I,” Amari said, but every last hair on his forearm stood on end.

  4

  Amari crossed his loft, grabbed the nine-inch French knife from his butcher block, and had the door open in a half a heartbeat. "Wait here," he whispered as the blackness of the hidden staircase engulfed him.

  Yeah right. Not happening.

  I grabbed the heirloom butterfly knife from my bag and followed. I started carrying it after I was attacked. After I gotten the scar on my ribs.

  The metal blade gleamed in a thin ribbon of moonlight, catching my attention. I hated the knife. It was the last thing mother gave me before she left.

  But it would do.

  I was three steps above Amari and just as silent as he was - quite a feat, considering my boots - but Amari knew I was there. He knew I wouldn't stay put; he'd only said it because it's just what you say.

  Amari stepped light as a cat onto the landing and peered around the corner into the main bar. As I reached the landing, Amari shook his head. The intruder wasn't in there.

  My left hand hummed with icy pins and needles. "He's in the smaller bar," I whispered, offering him my humming hand as evidence. He didn't question me. Instead, he sprinted across the bar, covering the space in less than ten strides. The entrance to the small bar posed a problem. How do you walk through a beaded curtain silently?

  Amari didn't try. He pushed the beads aside, entered the small bar and yelled, "Who's here?"

  I felt it before I saw anything.

  I ran, swerving around tables and stools like a trained agility dog. "Amari, don't!" I said needlessly when I reached him. Amari's blade hung inert at his side. He stood motionless, watching what I had felt.

  The boy sat at the round table in the center of the small bar. Eyes closed and palms on the table, he gleamed phosphorescent light.

  This kid wasn't glowing; he was a damn neon sign. He blindly traced the inlaid design of the tabletop, mumbling something I didn't understand.

  Amari and I stood motionless, watching the incredible blue light steadily recede into the boy. His features slowly became more visible - sandy hair, high, pointed cheekbones, and worry creases between slightly arched brows. He wasn't a teenager as I'd first suspected; he was probably in his mid-twenties, right around my age.

  When the last tinge of blue seeped back into his skin, he opened his eyes. His gaze bounced quickly from Amari to me, the question clear in his eyes.

  "That was weird, right?" I said, offering him my hand while tucking my knife into my back pocket. "I'm Zora Joutsen." He rose from the table and took it. "That's Amari Faa," I said and pointed to him over my shoulder. "This is his bar, and you, my friend, were just initiated."

  "I always knew," Sandy-hair said absently, swaying in place.

  I could feel Amari rolling his eyes behind me. "I'm going to lock up. Again," he mumbled and hurried out of the smaller bar.

  "Why don't you sit back down?" I suggested when Sandy-hair's swaying looked dangerous, his complexion edging closer to green. "I'll get you some water. Oh, not there," I said when he aimed to sit at the center table. "That one's special. Any other will do."

  Seated at a regular table, he looked less green when I returned with water, but he stared at the glass as if it were the most confusing thing he'd ever seen.

  I took his hand, not to push energy, only to comfort. "What's your name?" My usually raspy voice was soft and delicate with the question.

  "Brody Alexander," he replied, eyes still locked on the water.

  "Hey," I said, snapping my fingers to get his attention. He finally pulled his gaze up to meet mine. His eyes were the most pleasing green I'd ever seen. They swirled and mottled together at least a dozen different shades of, ranging from deep emerald to pale olive. "You're fine," I said, holding his gaze by sheer force of will. "You conjured more energy than you were ready for. It happens to the best of us. Take a few deep breaths, drink some water, and you'll feel better."

  He took a shuddering, ragged breath and blew it out along with the residual energy. Brody looked at me expectantly, his complexion still green around the edges. I nodded at his water. He took a begrudging sip and set the glass down.

  After a moment, his skin returned to its natural complexion. "Huh. I do feel better," he said around a smile and gulped the rest of his water.

  "Yes. Air and water, the only two things we need." I said flatly. Brody gave me a cockeyed look. "It helps re-balance you," I said around a yawn.

  The adrenaline rush of an intruder, dangerous or not, had worn off, and my long day of writing caught up with me. There were so many things I had to explain to him. I sighed, knowing tonight was going to be a long night.

  When Amari initiated me, he stayed up all night and opened the bar the on zero sleep explaining and answering my truckload of questions.

  A floorboard creaked in the larger bar. Amari?

  “You think you’re so special, don’t you?”

  “Brody, get behind me,” I said and stood to face Jake. How had he gotten in here!?

  “Fucking the de facto leader, running around The Circle like you own the place. Who do you think you are?” The shifter stepped closer to me with each word and dropped a deadbolt at my feet. “Magical lock or not, it won’t do you any good now,” he slurred.

  Jake was drunk.

  I immediately thought of the knife in my back pocket. I didn’t want to use it, but I would if I had to.

  The shifter eyed my curves, lip twitching as his gaze fell to my hips. “I bet a gypsy whore like you just racks up the boy toys,” he said, giving a single head nod in Brody’s direction. “What does you beloved Am-ah-ri think about that?” He strung out each syllable in an eerie singsong way.

  “I’m not-”

  “Shut up, Brody,” I said and pushed him further behind me. New to his power, Brody had no chance of beating a shifter.

  Not that I did, either.

  “Back the fuck off, Jake,” I said with more conviction than I felt, stealing a glance at the ceiling.

  “Wondering where your lover is?” the shifter smiled at me, showing off each of his pointed canines. “He can’t hear us. I know a thing or two about wards. Not all shifters are a
s stupid as you think,” his words came out like a growl.

  “I never thought you were stupid, Jake. In fact,” I said, lowering my voice and stepping toward him. “I always thought you were one of the smartest shifters I’d met. Can’t hold your alcohol for shit, but we all know why you drink.”

  “Shut up,” he snarled.

  I stepped closer, now fully in Jake’s personal space. “It’s not your fault,” I said. Jake’s body shook with emotion, tension, the beginning of a shift - I wasn’t sure.

  I had to risk it. “It’s not your fault,” I said again and laid my hand on his cheek. I didn’t push energy at him, the last thing Jake needed was more energy on top of his own. I only touched his skin, trusting he wouldn’t hurt me.

  Jake froze, but just for a moment. He allowed himself to lean his face into my hand, but only for a moment. Then backed away, giving me a dirty look.

  “Slut,” he said and walked out of the bar.

  I stood there, shaking as adrenaline once again coursed through my veins.

  “What the hell was that?” Brody asked from behind me.

  “That was Jake,” I said. “He’s been through a lot.”

  “What the hell did you get me into?”

  “You chose this, not me, Brody,” I said trying to still my racing heart.

  Not my best response

  Brody shook his head. “I - I don’t think I can do this,” he said and ran out of The Laughing Cat.

  Fuck!

  I ran after him, but he was too fast. He was already gone by the time I’d gotten to the mangled door. “Watch out for nons!” I yelled to the empty street.

  That did not go well.

  5

  I was shit at wards, but I threw one at the front door. It would hold until the morning when Amari could get it fixed.

  Amari was asleep by the time I made it upstairs. I tried to shake off the rest of the adrenaline and climbed into bed next to him.

  Amari woke as I curled myself around him. “Everything go alright?” he asked with only one eye open.

  “Nope.”

  “Mmm.”

  “You need to limit how much you serve the shifters. Especially Jake.” I said.

  “Mmm’k,” Amari said, and in seconds was snoring softly.

  I didn’t wake him to explain further. He’d put it together when he saw the door. Plus I knew he had an early morning meeting with a local microbrewery about putting their beer in The Laughing Cat.

  I sighed and put my head on his shoulder, an arm over his chest, and pulled the sheet over us. I fell asleep breathing in his scent, my body pressed to his.

  The next morning I woke in bed alone. Amari had left a pale pink peony on the pillow next to me with a note.

  “Until tonight,” I read out loud. The thought made me smile. I rolled back and stretched the most luxurious, tingly, sigh-inducing stretch. A cat would have been envious.

  My bare feet made soft slap-slapping noises on the hardwood as I crossed the loft to the bathroom. Amari didn't know it, but his bathroom was my favorite part of the loft. The free-standing shower, skylight, and window all used unfrosted glass. As an occasional exhibitionist, it suited me just fine. I loved showering in natural light. In the summer, I'd even open the window.

  The tub was just as incredible. Deep and round with plenty of edge space for candles. I put so many around it, Amari coined the term "altar bath."

  But it was already after ten and I liked to start writing by eleven. Plus, I was certain Brody would change his mind and come back at some point today, so I didn't have time for an altar bath. A long shower would do. I scrubbed, lathered, and rinsed until my fingers pruned. I stood under the steaming water for a few minutes, appreciating and reveling in the luxury of it. Just before I started to feel like a fish, I shut off the water and grabbed two towels, wrapping my hair in one and me in the other. Stepping out of the shower, I found Amari leaning in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed and one foot over the other.

  "You are so beautiful." His voice was rough and deep.

  Writing could wait.

  I gave him a playful, toothy grin and closed the distance between us. My towel slipped as I took the last few steps. I let it fall right in front of him.

  Amari made a half-sigh, half-groan that added up to a very sexy noise.

  I snaked my arms around his neck and tilted my head back, letting the hair towel fall to the floor as well. I was about to wrap my nude body around his when he stopped me.

  "I came up for a reason," he said, palm flat against my stomach. "I'm having a hard time remembering it, but I know I did."

  "Was it important?" I breathed into his ear, lightly nipping at the lobe.

  “Nope,” Amari said. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. “Not even a little important,” he said as I squealed with equal parts fear and excitement.

  I wasn’t the biggest fan of heights.

  Amari tossed me on the bed.

  “I got the lock fixed,” Amari said as he unbuttoned his vest and shirt. “Jake did it, is that what you said?” Amari let his pants drop to the floor.

  “Uh huh,” I said. “But I don’t want to talk about Jake right now,” I said and sat up to pull him closer.

  Amari crawled across the bed, grabbed my wrists and pinning them above my head. “I don’t like that,” I said and wriggled out of his grasp.

  Amari knew better and apologized with a kiss.

  It was a kiss that put all others to shame. The world around me melted, my head swam as all my focus shifted to only the incredible sensations Amari's lips pulled from mine.

  He started slow any easy, building pressure gradually with an occasional nip at my bottom lip.

  I put my hands in his wavy hair and pulled him closer, kissing him harder and faster.

  “We’ve gotta be quick,” he said against my lips and slid a hand down the side of my body. I hooked an ankle around his ass and guided him toward me.

  “Then let’s be fast,” I said

  Amari slid into me, and let bits of his energy swirl around on my skin. He teased out a moan from me with the flickering waves he focused at my nipple.

  I raised my hips, asking for more. Amari obliged, picking up his pace, and refocusing the energy he floated over my skin to directly over my clit.

  “That’s cheating!” I gasped when I could put the words together.

  “I told you,” he whispered in my ear. “We have to be fast.” And with that Amari’s rhythm quickened.

  I wrapped my legs around his hips and rode the waves of the fastest orgasm I’d every had.

  Amari came just after, shuddering above me until finally collapsing in my arms.

  When he’d recovered, Amari bounced out of bed and threw his clothes back on. “Hate to come and go,” he said winking at me, “but I’ve got to get ready for the lunch rush.

  I rolled over and stretched. Maybe I’d take a nap, I was getting a late start anyway…

  “Oh, and I forgot to tell you. Your new puppy is waiting for you downstairs.”

  6

  "My what?"

  Amari lifted an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to get there on my own. "Oh shit! Brody," I hissed. The realization hit me with such weight that my stomach dropped. I ran to the bathroom, cleaned myself up and through on yesterday's clothes.

  "He's been waiting outside since I left for the microbrew meeting," Amari said, a smirk twisting his mouth. The smallest groan left mine. "I finally let him in at ten." I threw a look at the clock and groaned again. It was nearly noon.

  "Why did you wait so long to tell me?" I asked, trying to pull jeans up still damp legs.

  Amari shrugged. "He's your puppy. I didn't think you'd forget him."

  "I didn't forget him!" I snapped, unwilling to admit it "And stop calling him that, he’s not a shifter." I said while pulling on a shirt.

  "You didn't forget him?" Amari pushed.

  "No, I just didn’t think he’d be back so soon." I conceded one boot on and ha
nds on my hips. "And no more puppy jokes,” I repeated. “He’s not a wolf. I don’t think he’s a shifter at all." Amari shrugged as I put on my other boot, grabbed my bag, and yanked open the door.

  "Gods, you could have made a little effort," Brody said when I joined him in the smaller bar. He eyed my repeat outfit and damp hair with disdain. He paused when his gaze leveled on my chest. "Although. I could get used to it." Just then, a drop of water fell from my hair and onto my braless nipple. Fantastic.

  "Hey," I said, willing him to meet my eyes. "Eyes up here, OK?"

  Brody gave me a cockeyed look.

  "I’m glad you came back.”

  “Yeah, last night was intense…” Brody trailed off.

  “Jake’s mate just died. He’s still working through his anger.” I said.

  Brody nodded and fidgeted in his seat. “Yeah, that was,” he paused searching for the word, “odd. But not what I meant. What happened after I left, that’s why I’m here.”

  “Yes, initiate sex is hard to wrap your head around the first time," I said voice laced with a strange softness I'd never accessed before.

  "I—I, how did you know?" His face rearranged from worried to guilty.

  I smiled at him, easing his remorse. "It happens to anyone drawn to that table,” I said and pointed to the unoccupied middle table. “If you’d stuck around I could have warned you better. There was a lot I should have told you last night and I'm sorry I couldn’t. You picked a hell of a time to initiate didn't you?"

  "I didn't mean to," he said, tone edging on defensive.

  "I know you didn't. You have no control over when it happens. And you had no way of knowing Jake would interrupt.”

  Brody’s shoulders eased with my reassurance.

  “Anyway, back to what you did last night. Initiate sex is part of the process. It's a step in your awakening and completely expected. Was she a practitioner?"