A Little Dark Magic (The Little Coven Series Book 2)

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A Little Dark Magic (The Little Coven Series Book 2) Page 26

by Isabel Wroth


  Maksim licked his lips like he could taste it, and her belly gave one hell of a clench as she remembered what it was like to feel his tongue on her most intimate flesh.

  “We have about ten minutes before someone knocks on the door with your luggage. Take off that necklace, and I’ll show you the technique the French are famous for.”

  Kerrigan unclasped her necklace immediately and put it on the bathroom counter. Next, she reached down to pull the hem of her stretchy dress up over her head and dropped it on the floor.

  Wearing nothing now but the lace bodysuit, garters, thigh-high stockings, and heels Maksim picked out earlier, Kerrigan declared,

  “Bon tomps roule!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  On her belly with her chin cradled in her hand, Kerrigan watched from the couch while Maksim put together a sandwich for her in the kitchen. After having her mind blown while waiting for her luggage, Maksim made it his mission to have her on every flat surface in the apartment.

  It wasn’t until he was furiously hammering her into the wall that she realized what happened in the library affected him more than he let on.

  As he pushed her to come apart, again and again, it became clear Maksim had been far more in control of himself tonight than she’d thought.

  Noticing how his gaze would still roam the room at random intervals, Kerrigan understood the rage brought on by the earlier threat had lessened with every orgasm, but the panic at losing her hadn’t.

  “Maks, there’s no one here,” she murmured gently. “Not even a ghost.”

  He gave her a crooked smile as he finished up, bringing her a sandwich that was put together all wrong—cheese on dry bread, lettuce smeared with mayo and mustard, the turkey on top, with a tomato slice as thick as her finger and another layer of cheese—but she’d eat it anyway because he’d put effort into taking care of her.

  “I don’t completely trust there’s not another camera in here.”

  Kerrigan bit into her sandwich to give him time to think about that fib. She sat up, the soft blanket he’d draped over her pooling in her lap; now he was more interested in staring at her naked breasts.

  Hungrier than she’d thought, Kerrigan licked crumbs off her fingers before she knew it. She set her plate aside and took a sip from the water bottle Maks passed her, giving him plenty of time to talk before she went poking holes in his bubble.

  “I trust you, Maksim.”

  He frowned, searching her face intently. “I know that, love.”

  “There aren’t any cameras in here.”

  His right eyebrow inched slowly upward. “You sound sure of that.”

  “You would never have made love to me on this couch or fucked me up against the wall over there if there was even the slightest chance we were being watched.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw as he clenched his teeth and pressed his lips together in a tight line.

  “Unless you failed to mention you have the same power Astrid has, to see all the possible futures laid out in front of you like a book, what happened today in the library was not your fault.”

  As he leaped up and started pacing circles around the room like a caged lion, Kerrigan reasoned she’d scored a direct hit.

  “Seconds, Kerrigan. Seconds that I turned my back to you, and he could have grabbed your throat instead of your arm. Ripped it clean out.” Maks raked his hand through his hair in agitation as he opened up and uncorked his panic.

  Kerrigan wanted to interrupt, to soothe him, but he needed to get this out of his system.

  “Twelve years were stolen from us because of someone in this building, and I was helpless to do anything to stop it.”

  Kerrigan remembered what it was to feel helpless, unable to stop the knife Vivica forced into her hand from sliding straight through Maksim’s chest.

  Even as the blade penetrated, Kerrigan remembered Maks looking down at her with gentleness, with forgiveness in his gaze.

  Power unlike anything she’d ever been able to conjure moved through Kerrigan in response to her horror, so much power she’d managed to strip an entire coven of their glamor magic, but it hadn’t stopped Maks from succumbing to what Kerrigan believed was death.

  Her grief and rage at the time manifested as aggressive magic.

  He told her he was no stranger to torture and so cavalierly brushed off what abuse he’d suffered at Vivica’s hands, but no matter how old Maks was or how accustomed to stress and physical torture he might be, he would never convince her he wasn’t affected psychologically by his captivity.

  Maksim’s response to her being grabbed today manifested as pure, murderous rage. With every fiber of her being, Kerrigan believed he would have killed everyone in the room if it meant protecting her.

  “Dhiraj was right. If I had any sense at all, I should have left you in New Hampshire and burned this place to the ground.”

  Maks threw a sidelong look her way to no doubt test her response, but Kerrigan only shook her head as she’d already expressed her thoughts on the matter.

  His lips peeled back in a feral grimace, reacting with what Kerrigan guessed were his warrior genes, fighting against his anxiety and helplessness as though the feelings were enemies.

  “Until I can confirm which of my brothers is responsible, you will not leave my side.”

  The only thing Kerrigan had ever found to help fight her feelings of helplessness and grief was to have a project.

  First, it had been learning every dark, shadowy practice in school that might help her see Maks again.

  Then, once she had the skills she’d needed, she moved on to hunting down every rare book that even mentioned shattered spirits.

  To fund her book hunts, she’d built her business, and once she had the books, Kerrigan took the next step to search the far corners of the spirit realm for Maksim’s shattered soul.

  Right now, Maks needed to do something to make him feel like he wasn’t failing her.

  It seemed like the perfect time to offer up the information Kerrigan had been sitting on since walking into the conference room.

  “That might not be as difficult a task as we first thought.”

  Maks reacted with that preternatural stillness only vampires seemed capable of. He looked at her intently, and despite loving him with her whole heart, Kerrigan got the same sensation she felt when standing in front of a creepy portrait.

  Like no matter where she stepped or how far to one side she was, Maks’s eyes would follow her without moving so much as a muscle.

  “How so?” he finally asked skeptically.

  Kerrigan tucked the blanket up under her arms, lifting one foot flat to the couch seat, hugging her knee to her chest.

  “When we first met, until I asked you about how many people you’d killed as a vampire, I thought the spirits I saw around you were just curious graveyard ghosts.

  “There were only a handful, a few women, and a pair of men in Regency-era outfits. You spoke about your uncontrollable hunger as a fledgling and how deeply you regretted the deaths of all the people Austmathr sent to feed you.

  “As soon as you told me you wished you could apologize to them, they lost that whole pissed off, spiritually constipated look and disappeared with smiles of relief on their faces. I never saw them around you again.

  “In fact, I never saw any ghosts around you after that night. Through some conversations over the years with my necromancy teacher—and a few questionable outings to vampire hang outs—we realized every vampire has at least two ghosts following them. Ghosts of people they’ve killed in the past.

  “I didn’t see any of them in the conference room, but that doesn’t mean your brothers don’t have ghosts attached to them. All I need to do is summon them and ask them to be spies. I’ll get all the information we need in a few nights.”

  “And in doing this, you’ll stay out of danger?” Maks asked dubiously.

  “Completely.”

  Maks tilted his head to the side curiously, finally throwing
off that creepy portrait vibe.

  “You put your phone away and looked at the door moments before Thomas and the others entered. Was there a ghost in the room then?”

  “Mmhm. I saw him in the lobby and thought he was just another intern, but then he walked through the closed elevator doors and followed us up to the library. He didn’t make any other attempts to speak to me except to say, ‘they’re coming.’ He seemed curious about our presence, but I couldn’t say if he’s attached to someone in particular.”

  As Maksim resumed his pacing, Kerrigan was pleased to see it was less of a frantic purge of energy and more of a physical expression of moving through his own thoughts.

  “Do you see him now?” he finally asked.

  “No. When Thomas mentioned there’s a cadre of witches on the payroll, I wondered if maybe they put a block on the upper floors where all the apartments are.”

  “Or he died at the hands of one of my brothers, and the ghost stayed with him.”

  “Or that,” Kerrigan agreed with a nod, glad to see Maksim slowly finding his way back to being calm. “Did you pick up on anything from your brothers? Any clues that they were lying when they said it wasn’t them?”

  Maks made a dismissive gesture, not unlike Aubin had.

  “We were all taught to lie by a master, love. I will need more than a few hours’ worth of time to be sure.”

  Fair enough. “Okay, who do you suspect the least?”

  “Virico,” Maksim answered immediately. “Austmathr chose him and two other gladiators from the same house. As I heard it told, Austmathr wanted warriors who already had an established bond of brotherhood, and by all accounts, they were extremely close after becoming vampires.

  "After a century or two, Austmathr made it plain that of the three, he favored Virico and it created a rift between them.

  “I guess Virico’s fellow gladiators were already more than a little disturbed, and one night they turned on him. They ambushed Virico, chained him up, and took turns savaging the female Virico claimed in front of him.”

  Kerrigan felt a lump of sympathy rise in her throat when Maksim turned a haunted glance her way, sliding backward as he let his imagination place her into that horrifying scenario.

  “Hector was there for the aftermath, and from what he told me of it, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn Austmathr manipulated the entire event simply to amuse himself.

  “I spent less than sixty years with my maker, and I knew after only six months, he was an incredibly jealous creature. Possessive of us in the way I’m possessive of my favorite timepieces.

  “If you were to ask any of his progeny—and I’m not encouraging you to—why they never sired any vampires themselves, they’d tell you it was because they feared Austmathr would torture them before granting their progeny the release of death. The only way for our clan to increase was if Austmathr himself made more vampires. As far as I know, I’m the only sire of our group.”

  Kerrigan took a mental note to keep her curiosities about the Austmathr boys to herself. “Who do you suspect the most, out of who we met today?”

  Maksim made three passes back and forth in front of the couch, deeply considering her question.

  “Dhiraj.” That surprised her. Kerrigan would have put Aubin in second place. “Why did you say he is your favorite?”

  There was a hint of jealousy in the look Maksim gave her, just enough to make her fight back a giggle.

  “He’s quite the chauvinist, mad at you for bringing me here where any of them had the opportunity to hurt me, but it felt like it came from a good place.

  "I said he was my favorite to see if I could get an honest reaction out of him. It was total instinct that had me offering to modify the Pairing Ritual, but you saw how he reacted.”

  Maks gave a sound of acknowledgment, accompanied by a faint smile. “I did. Dhiraj has always been a bit chauvinistic because of the culture he was raised in. Despite such a flaw, it’s no surprise Dhiraj desires a mate of his own.”

  “Why suspect him then? I’d have put Aubin at the top of the suspect list.”

  “When Aubin gives his word, he will honor it no matter the cost. Dhiraj made no promises and pledged no loyalty to me.”

  “And Thomas? Why doubt his word?”

  Maksim faced her, spreading his hands with a slight shrug. “I used our bond earlier to compel him to answer as to whether or not he betrayed me. He stated plainly he was happy to have me back and wished neither of us any ill will. I did not ask him about any involvement with our other situation—you were quite clever with your outrage regarding the rubies—so we’ll have to wait and see.

  “Because of my interference, he is forever trapped in the body of a boy. Unless he takes on the mantle of a cruel, unfeeling tyrant, and builds a reputation around being truly repugnant, his youthful face will always cause those around him to doubt his experience before he’s ever given the opportunity to succeed. Is that not reason enough to want power no other vampire possesses?”

  “I suppose so,” Kerrigan sighed, trying to put herself in Thomas’s shoes. But, as a woman, she really didn’t need to.

  Kerrigan understood all too well what it meant to be taken at face value and dismissed, not just because of her gender but also because of her appearance.

  “The way he calls you, ‘Father’ does creep me out. It’s better than vladdy, but not by much.”

  Maksim started to chuckle and didn’t stop until he was bent over laughing. He wasn’t stress pacing anymore, so Kerrigan called it a win.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Where have you been?”

  Kerrigan hadn’t gotten past the threshold of the door between her mind and the spirit realm before Austmathr made his demanding presence known. It took focus to ignore him, to continue down the alley to the stone folly that would anchor her in place.

  “I said, where have you been?” he repeated louder, as though shouting at her would make Kerrigan acknowledge him faster.

  Austmathr ranted and raged at her about what a monumental effort he was making on her behalf, bemoaning the lack of energy, berating her for not wearing Maksim’s necklace to ensure Aussie had the proper nutrition to do his work.

  Kerrigan stepped into place at the center of her folly with a huff.

  “Keep your skirt on, you big baby. Did you get the fragments or not?”

  “Of course I did!” he snarled, shaking his fist at her menacingly. “I keep my word!”

  Confused and noticing Aussie did look a little gaunter than the last time they’d spoken, Kerrigan crossed her arms and canted her hips to one side.

  “How have I not kept my word? I’m here, at Clan Aussie HQ, supporting Maksim—”

  “In going halfsies,” Austmathr mockingly shot finger quotes at her, his narrow face twisted in disgust. “With his damn offspring! I told you, Maksim has to resume control, now! Now, woman! By himself, no halfsies! My empire is being run by a CHILD!”

  Kerrigan reached up to wiggle her finger in her ear, hoping it would help stop the ringing. For a dead guy, Austmathr could seriously holler.

  “Well, nice to see you’re staying informed. Here I thought I was going to have to waste time giving you a blow-by-blow.”

  With an evil glare, Austmathr braced his hands on the stone pillars and leaned in as far as the barrier between realms would allow.

  His skin was stretched so tight over his bones his already deep-set eyes seemed to disappear and turn to skeletal black pits.

  “What happened after you cursed the Silver Wives?”

  The complete one-eighty threw her so off-balance she actually had to throw her arms up and windmill to stay on her feet.

  “Wh-what?”

  Austmathr gave a sharp tilt of his head. The sort of jerky movement rarely seen outside horror movies, when haunted dolls started coming to life.

  He smiled at her, and Kerrigan swore every tooth she could see was razor-sharp and gleaming in the shadowy light. Her skin tried to crawl straigh
t off her body.

  “You pushed a blade into Maksim’s chest, cursed those wretched whores, and then what?”

  “I blacked out, which is so far off-topic it’s not even funny. I asked you a question, Austmathr. A direct question. The deal is—”

  Austmathr lifted his hand and wagged his finger at her mockingly. “I am to answer all your questions, now and in the future, no bullshit, no answers wrapped in riddles wrapped in stupid vampire political crap. You did not say I could not answer your questions with questions of my own.”

  Stunned, Kerrigan felt her jaw drop. Unable to immediately form words, all that came out were little huffs of sounds and broken syllables.

  Of course, Austmathr found a damn loophole in their deal, and he was clearly taking full advantage.

  “You… you son of a bitch!” Kerrigan finally managed. The devil in front of her just kept right on grinning.

  “I don’t have time for your shit tonight. Unless you want me to blast you back into a million pieces, give me Cecilie’s fragments, now.”

  Preparing herself for a battle of wills, Kerrigan suffered another glancing blow of surprise when Austmathr reached into his robe and came up with a handful of pinkish fragments.

  Just like last time, the sigils painted with anointing oil and Cecilie’s ashes on Kerrigan’s hands lit up like halogens in recognition. Without so much as a peep of protest, the vampire handed them over.

  “Have you ever blacked out since that night, little witch?”

  Kerrigan ignored the question, focusing instead on binding the fragments to the sapphire she held in her physical hand. Everything settled exactly as it should, and she turned to leave.

  “That’s nearly all of them. See you next time.”

  Kerrigan spun on her heel and started back up the habitual path that would lead her consciousness back to her body.

  To her dismay, Austmathr kept pace alongside her until he could go no further, his voice echoing up the alley.

 

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