by Billi Jean
Shit. Time was not on their side. He would figure this out later. Already he knew this was bigger than he could deal with alone. One Eye’s was in LA. That meant this little cell was much, much bigger than he’d thought. Hoped. Shit didn’t matter, they were in trouble here. “We have to go. There’s more still bound. Are you good to go?”
“I’m good to go, but give me a blade and I’ll kill the first Death Stalker that comes near. I might slice and dice a human or two, as well.”
She looked like she could, too. Pissed, not hurting as much, adrenaline, and fury pumped through her, lighting her eyes with a slightly darker blue cast.
He checked in with Beauty before handing the witch a knife big enough to cause some damage. Both women looked tense, but Beauty was holding up well.
Beauty reached out and laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I sent some healing, but there’s a tear…a tear in your magic. I don’t know if I can heal that here and now.”
He shook his head. “No, not now. After, we can see what we can do.”
“A tear. Freakin’ fantastic.” Hand on her hip she blew her bangs up and snorted. “Let’s just hoof it, then talk about tears in magic.”
Torque shook his head. “Save it, come on.”
They needed to move. Now. He stopped at the door and listened, but heard nothing, soundproof he guessed. Shit. Hand on the knob, he paused. Beauty’s green eyes met his. He hated this.
“Ready?”
“Yep.”
He nodded to the witch and said, “Get ready, Mini, the fight is on.”
The witch snorted again, but he knew she was up for a fight. Too bad he wasn’t on his game. As soon as he opened the door a blast of evil hit like a damn three-hundred-pound bowling ball.
Beauty’s scream, a shriek really, had him gasping for air. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. For some reason he couldn’t seem to clear the rage pouring in from all sides enough to sense her. Had she ever made that particular sound before?
He tried to keep it together, but he went down, falling so fast and hard he didn’t even register the hit he knew he took directly to the head.
Chapter Thirteen
A shot of pure power hit Beauty again, nearly knocking her flat. Shoved back, she blinked past the blurring sensation in her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Shit!”
“Damn. That piece of shit DS is pissing me off.”
Beauty barely registered the other witch’s words enough to try and understand her. Torque was face down. His big body had taken the full force of the attack when he opened the door. He now lay blocking the only exit out of this hellhole.
She couldn’t shift them out. She’d tried. She couldn’t tug him out of the way and close the door. She’d tried. She had a barrier up, no one was getting in, but she couldn’t get close to him because when she did, she was in the direct line of fire. Whoever stood outside that doorway sent volley after volley of power at her barrier, nearly knocking her on her butt every time she tried to reach more than Torque’s leg.
“Shit!”
The witch snapped her fingers. “Calm down. Just calm down, and look at me. Not the big bastard, me.”
The witch! She jerked her head around to glare at the other witch.
Hands up to placate her, the punk rocker nodded as if she could understand. Torque was hurt, possibly dying, and this witch wanted to talk? She’d not bonded him. That was all that kept circling her mind. She’d never said the words. Hadn’t had time and now there might not be enough time.
“All right, just trying to bring some clarity. Got it. He’s yours. Okay, so we need a plan, right?”
She had no idea what the woman was saying. Shit, shit, shit.
“Focus. Was this a team, or are you solo?”
Team. Shit. Where was the team? “I don’t know, I mean, it was a team, but I…they split up. Bryson, that big lug is a vampire and I have no idea where everyone is!”
Clearly out of her mind, the witch seemed to think if she held her hands up higher Beauty would settle down. Nothing was going to settle her down. Torque was hurt and she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t remember a single spell to help him. Couldn’t even feel her power. Or she felt it, but it taunted her after she’d formed the barrier.
“All right, all right. Calm down. So, look, I can do some damage, but you have to heal this tear. Can you heal? Is that your thing?”
Beauty nodded, eyeing Torque’s still body. She thought she could. The idea took root and seemed to fit her power.
“Okay, you heal the tear, and I’ll stir things up enough to get that DS bastard right where he needs it. Plan?”
Heal the witch, she’d help, and they’d hit it. DS? “What is a DS?”
“Death Stalker.”
It sounded good, but what if she drained her power on the witch and none was left for Torque?
“Okay?” The witch wiggled her fingers. “I’ll teach those jerks to use some stupid machine on me.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Taking a breath, Beauty moved just a bit away from the corner. When the blast had hit Torque, she’d flown back, bashing her head against the wall, but otherwise she was unharmed.
“All right. I’ll need to touch you, I think. Come over to me?”
From her corner, the witch nodded, puffing her blue bangs out of her eyes. “Count to three. I’ll dive over and you do your thing. But don’t lose whatever is keeping that guy out, ‘kay?”
Duh. She could do this. She could do this. “Right.”
“One.”
The storm outside the door grew louder. They exchanged worried glances before the other witch mouthed, “Two.”
“Fuck three and just get over—” The witch dived low and hit her corner with a soft umph, at impact.
Beauty reached down, grabbed a thin shoulder, and concentrated on the tear. The damage glowed silver through the witch’s natural pale lilac aura. Settling in, Beauty tugged the silver, moving it to match up with the other side, trying to align the two sides. Beneath her hand, the witch gasped and her body trembled. It hurt. Beauty knew it, felt it, but they didn’t have time.
“Ah, fuck,” Torque muttered.
She lost her concentration on the healing when she heard Torque’s low curse. Tightening her grip on the girl’s shoulder, she pressed and sealed the two sides with a suddenness that drew another gasp from the witch.
Beauty met the witch’s gaze and sucked in a breath. The other woman’s irises glowed purple, growing brighter while a tattoo lining the inside of her wrist to her elbow moved, circling until it formed a symmetrical design similar to a dragon eating its tail. With a grunt, she fell back, gripping her head in both hands.
“Gah, that hurt!”
Not bothering to reply, Beauty swung her head around to find Torque. He was still down, but as she watched he reached up and touched his forehead, then jerked and his head snapped up. His eyes pinned on her in seconds.
Relief flooded her. Tears blurred her vision but she saw Torque’s expression ease when he saw her.
“Torque.”
“Beauty, that hurt like a bitch.”
She choked on a laugh and glanced over to see the other witch stand. As Beauty watched, she shoved her arms up and forward and purple sparks flew from her fingertips. The lights flickered again. The power seemed to hum from her. With an evil grin she chanted something low, too low to hear but the tempo grew faster and faster until, throwing her head back, the witch yelled the last. Purple fire raced from her hands to arch over Torque and crashed into the wall outside their room.
Someone screamed.
Torque cursed. Rolling out of the way with another curse, he glared at them as he stumbled to his feet with the help of the wall to the left of the door.
The witch grinned. “Damn, that felt good.”
Beauty couldn’t help the laugh that broke free. The witch just sounded so pleased. She flipped her bangs off her eyes and winked. “He won’t be getting up anytime soon.”
She threw anothe
r, smaller blast making it look like she’d rolled a bowling ball, but the scream followed proved her magic was some kind of freaky good shit. Immediately they heard running footsteps, then a shout.
“Cut the fire power, Mini.” Torque sucked in a breath and nodded to the door.
All three of them heard the loud male curses, then Bryson’s call, “ Cut the fire, will ya?”
Bryson. Oh, Danu, thank you. “Torque, don’t move.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think I can.”
Slumped over, he let out a low painful breath. He looked like hell. She reached him and hugged him around his waist, only slightly supporting him. He bent and rested his head against hers for a moment that threatened to break her heart. Could he be more impossibly wonderful? And hurt. “Are you hurt? Is there blood?”
“No, I’m fine. Fine, really.”
The witch cut her purple electrical fire, and Bryson stormed in. Behind him, she spotted a few other team members, men, and women she’d barely met. They all had weapons out, some bloody, some stained an odd bluish grey. Between a few, she spotted unconscious bodies, heads hanging down.
Bryson nodded. “Yo, Beauty, we brought your man a few toys.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed. She laughed so hard it hurt. Hugging Torque’s grumbling head, she practically fell over.
Bryson frowned, saying, “What? What’d I say?”
Beauty sucked in a breath when Torque tightened his hold on her arm, leaning into her so heavily she almost dropped his butt.
“Damn, woman. Get me home, I hurt.”
“Yeah, get him outta here, would you? And by the way, I’m Hunter, and just so you know, I’m in on this little battle now, so get some rest, heal that man of yours and I’ll catch you soon.”
Beauty blinked at Hunter and watched her waltz out past Bryson.
Torque pressed his lips to her neck. “Now, Beauty before I fall on my ass in front of everyone.”
“I’d better get us home. Call if you need anything,” she managed and keeping the hunting lodge firmly in her mind, she shifted them home.
She hugged Torque close. They’d done it. At least, she’d done it. Survived her first mission.
Chapter Fourteen
Beauty woke up alone. Torque had slept as soon as they made it home and most of the next day. She’d answered his phone calls and put off most everyone by telling them he’d call back, the others she’d handled like she’d thought he’d handle. Amazing really. Some of the calls were useless, like should they keep watch outside the club? Duh, of course. Others, like what to do with the team of humans that stormed the club the next day she didn’t know what to do with.
He’d risen in the middle of the night, waking her with soft, warm kisses and such amazing lovemaking she’d merely snuggled under the covers when he’d asked if she wanted to go with him to the council for a quick trip to check on things.
When Torque said he’d change, he changed. He kept his promises too.
Right now she needed him to keep his promise to take this spell off her—the one that made her feel a smidgeon of what he must have felt—unless he went to a woman or jacked off.
Crazy. Absolutely crazy. Worse than wanting to make love to him until the damn itch was scratched was her need to talk to him. She had a lot to say to Torque. He’d done everything he could to hold his end of their deal up. He’d taken her into a fight and instead of her getting hurt, he’d got wounded. The man scared her, and she was sure she did the same.
She wanted him.
He was hers. She needed to tell him that, to tell him that he was hers. For now, and forever.
As if just thinking about her sex-crazed warrior, she heard him on the stairs, then a moment later he ran headlong in the room. So much for her serious and intense mage. He looked frazzled. His black hair stood up, all tousled, and messed, as if he had run his hands through it too many times.
“Beauty! Damn, I’m sorry, baby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine but oh, Torque you need to take this spell off!” Her aching breasts were so aroused the tips tented her soft T-shirt. His eyes snagged on them, making her nipples ache as he jerked open his jeans.
“Beauty… I’m so sorry…” he said or groaned.
Torque dragged his jeans off. He was, of course, commando style. He never wore boxers, not even silk ones she bought him. The baseball bat he had between his hips bobbed from the thatch of dark, black hair that nestled it. His erection hung low, heavy with need, and it swung with each movement. Her stomach contracted in excitement and her body softened seeing that fascinating hard flesh all ready for her. His thick, muscular thighs had a light dusting of black hair similar to the rough hair on his chest. He was lean, hard muscled and at over six foot, a male to be reckoned with.
She thought she was doing a good job of reckoning.
“Torque.” She put all her frustration into blowing her hair off her face. It wasn’t just the sex spell though, it was him, leaving again and not taking her.
“Beauty.” His tone full of guilt and need, he looked like a cross between a bad boy and a warrior ready to conquer. She was not pleased. Not upset, but still…
With a growl, he practically ripped his shirt off the rest of the way, making those tight abs and pectorals bunch and ripple. The show off. “Shirt. Off.”
She waited.
“Please, baby. Gods, I know… I tried to hurry but there was so many—”
“I know, I know, but this spell has to go,” she reminded him, but he suddenly was there, tugging her own shirt off with a grunt as it caught on her silk bra making her painful breasts quiver. As much as she loved, absolutely loved him suckling her breasts as he made love to her, this was beginning to be too much. The sex spell was nearly killing her. Enough was enough.
“Ouch.” There was a lot of blame and frustration in that one word.
Immediately he cupped her face and kissed her softly along her cheeks, eyelids, and mouth. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll take it off right after.” His voice was guttural with need. Suddenly he swooped her up in his arms and her jeans were tugged off. “Hand, dick. Now. Bra. Off.”
Oh man, he was in rough shape.
He unsnapped her lacy pink bra with a growl and had her flat on her back with his hands moulded around each breast and his warm mouth giving her relief in seconds. Each draw brought a response in her core, tightening her closer and closer to an orgasm with each suckle.
“Hand.” He prodded her with his erection and she gripped him tightly, wanting so much more than the feel of his flesh under her hand. She wanted him—now—hard, fast and so deep in her body she’d never lose the feel of his possession. His hips were in the cradle of her thighs and she opened her thighs wider, urging him to fill her.
“I want you…oh Gods, how I want you. I need you inside. Now.”
He shook his head but kept up the deep long sucks and bites. His dick wet her hand each time she stroked up the thick column of muscle to the flared mushroomed head. He was close. His body grew harder, every delicious inch of him swelling in her hands, making her yearn for his deep, hard thrust. She hurt without him, felt empty and restless, as crazy as that sounded. But she did. She wanted him inside her as much and as deep as he could go. She wanted that so badly. With each draw of his mouth, a tension built in her body beyond her control. Her core ran wetter and wetter, aching for him, shivering in that pre-climax edge he always took her to so quickly.
“Torque!”
The frustrating man merely tortured her even more by shoving his flesh in her fist with a low sound. He was sexy. The next second he took her other breast deep in his hot, wet mouth with such a hard suck she nearly climaxed. Sensing it, he slid two fingers deep. She bit his shoulder softly, moaning at the pleasure coursing through her simply from the feel of his thick fingers filling her body. The man was deadly. Absolutely driving her insane.
“I need you. Now. Now.” Digging her nails in his shoulders, she flexed her hips up.
He shook his head.
“Torque!”
Another denial.
Fine then. She could play dirty, too. He’d cast this sex spell to keep her close to him. She trembled on the edge of climaxing with his first touch and he wanted to torture her more? It was time to make this match permanent before they killed each other with their sex drives he’d ramped up.
“I want you as my bonded male, now, forever and always.” She panted the words, so close to orgasm she lifted her hips up trying to force him to enter her.
He jerked up in surprise, his mouth swollen and wet from her breast, his handsome face tense with passion and need, his eyes shifted from dark grey to light silver.
With a low sound, he closed his eyes. A look of pleasure crossed his face. She held her breath, certain he was going to lose control and spill all over her stomach. Lips parted, head back, his stomach muscles contracted, when he tightened his hands on her, no doubt fighting not to come. His erection pulsed in her hands, weeping pre-cum all over her, but he pulled back from the edge with a low, tortured groan.
Breathless, he rose over her like some avenging pirate. “Are you certain, baby?”
Her heart melted. “Torque, I love you. I want you, bond with me.”
His brow furrowed with such an intense look she almost missed the moisture in his eyes. He bent his head and took her mouth in a wild, sweet kiss. Breaking off, he met her eyes with a look of such love she felt tears rush her eyes.
“Say that again.” He ground down on her clit and she felt them both share a shudder.
Her own excitement tripled. There was something wicked and kinky about him, all of him and she loved when he came, especially when he was unable to stop himself from gushing all over her. And he was a male that had a lot of cum. She loved to lick the tip of him afterwards, always able to coax another spurt to the sound of his husky groan of her name.
“I want you, only you, Torque, to be my bonded male, now, forever and always. I love you, you silly overbearing male,” she added, pulling his face up to kiss him, tasting her own desire on his tongue mixed with his unique, spicy flavour.
