by Harte, Marie
The mating took root and grew, blossoming into a love that wound around them, creating a new shield of protection and power.
Warrick moaned and withdrew, shaking and unable to stop. He felt both weak and strong, and the knowledge that Regan loved them filled him with joy.
“Jesus. That’s so good, so right.” Chance kissed her and sighed. “So why do I feel as if I’m about to pass out?”
“And why is the room so dark? Or am I on the verge of unconsciousness and don’t know it?” she asked.
Warrick looked up, shocked to see she was right. “What the hell?”
They pulled themselves to their feet, and while Regan used a shirt to clean herself up, he and Chance looked out the window.
“Impossible.” Chance gaped. “The blood moon? It’s a week early.”
“I don’t understand.”
Warrick thought he might. “Get dressed and arm yourselves. We’re going to have company very soon.” He snapped a finger and his clothing appeared on his body.
Chance hurried to redress the old fashioned way. “What the hell? Why the blood moon now?”
“We’ve entered the Becoming,” Warrick answered.
“So?”
“So it is next week. Look.” Warrick nodded to their hourglass timer, the magical device they’d used to mark their days until the sacred rite. The sand had run out.
“Hold on, now.” Regan had returned from the bedroom but still wore nothing. And damn, she screwed with his concentration, all smooth and flushed and naked. “We just had sex for a week? And here I was thinking I rushed us.”
“No. It’s part of the magic. Time elapsed.” Warrick pointed at the moon. “We shared and we Became. Now we deal with what’s coming because I can feel something at the edge of my mind. And it’s not friendly.”
Regan didn’t wait. She shifted into a large black jaguar and roared at them to hurry up.
“Yeah, I get it,” Chance snapped. “Stop being bossy and wait for us. I mean it. You ground us, but the power comes from here.” Chance thumped his chest.
When she roared again, he frowned. “Yes, I know it’s our love that makes us stronger. But damn it, woman, just keep yourself safe and back from danger. Trust me. Warrick and I have been training for this for years.”
Warrick held out his hand, and his sword fell into it. While he readied to battle the hordes coming for their blood, Chance closed his eyes and called on his abilities. Spells flared at his fingertips, ready for use. And the knowledge sprang at him from the Great Mother. “We need to go to Black Rock. The others are there waiting.”
Warrick nodded. “Hold my arm. Regan, put your mouth around my wrist. Gently. Don’t want to damage my sword arm just yet.” In a blink, he teleported them to the grand amphitheater and set them on the center stage, a slab of black granite on the outskirts of town. Surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains, they could commune better with the Great Mother from this place of power.
Witches and warlocks sat waiting, apparently, and, seeing the three of them, began clapping.
Warrick and Chance’s parents watched from the elevated side box, where his mother nodded, not seeming all that surprised to see her sons and a huge black cat ready for battle.
They didn’t wait long. Clouds parted to fully reveal the blood moon. It cast everything in a reddish glow, and from a spot just above them, a darker red swirled and grew until it became a portal through which dozens of vamps poured.
Chance immediately called on arcs of electricity and blasted through the first line. Warrick held back and stayed near Regan, who growled and hissed as more came to the blood moon’s call.
But when a new portal opened behind Warrick, Chance knew this wouldn’t be so easy.
His brother started slashing through vampires and what looked like demons—dark creatures made of shadow that let out bloodcurdling shrieks as they hunted prey.
Regan took a chunk out of one and swiped at another. Satisfied Warrick would watch out for her, and that Regan could hold her own, Chance continued to fight the multitude pouring from the portal.
“Go home. This place is not for you.” He zapped more. Then two took him by surprise and clawed into his side. “Fuck.” He burned them with a wave of his hand and set a mass of those entering Darkton on fire.
They screamed for his death even as more entered, multiplying like roaches.
Warrick took a hit, then Regan leaped to his aid and bit through a demon aiming for Warrick’s unprotected side.
The vamps and demons overflowed the stage and began attacking those watching the Becoming faster than Chance had thought they would. Witches and warlocks engaged, mages and conjurers fighting alongside their familiars and doppelgangers. Everyone came together to fight this threat that he and Warrick had brought to their town. Their people.
Chance took a blow to the head that had him seeing stars. But when he saw demons latch on to Regan, he lost it. “Warrick, close that portal!”
“Great idea, genius,” Warrick snapped back. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do? But I can’t with so many of them attacking me and Regan. I’m in defensive mode.”
“Use us.” Chance opened the spiritual door to his brother, previously closed until Regan had shown him the way to open it. A great boom shook the sky, and he overflowed with power.
Warrick felt the same, for he laughed and wiped the demons from the skies with a blast of dark magic that shot from his eyes and his hand and sword. As he killed the demons and worked on closing the portal, Regan continued to take on those who thought to challenge him.
“Nice work, sweetheart. You’re doing terrific, you great big kitty,” Chance called to her and grinned when she snarled at his platitudes.
Unfortunately, when he turned, he noticed the vamps’ portal getting bigger. The number of fangers pouring through staggered him. Not wanting the threat to reach insurmountable proportions, he knew he had to do something.
So, he did the only thing he could think of. He dove through.
10
Regan swiped through another demon and hissed when a row of talons scored her flank. Bastard. She tore into it with her claws. A normal familiar wouldn’t do much more than provide a conduit for her magic users, but Regan’s witch base allowed her to do magical damage with her claws and fangs. She might not be able to chant spells, but she could hurt the demons all the same.
Warrick had nearly managed to close the demon portal with his dark power when she saw Chance glance at her then dive through the vamp portal and disappear.
She screamed her displeasure.
Warrick turned after having closed the demon portal, just in time to see his brother vanish. “Stupid asshole.” He raced after Regan, who led the way. She didn’t give it another thought as she jumped up and into the portal. Warrick landed on top of her when they hit the ground, hard.
They’d left their friends and families fighting the vamps behind, but here, in this alien place, nothing seemed real. Not even Chance fighting to keep an astronomically massive number of vamps from eating him alive. From his fingers, white-hot fury poured, incinerating any vamp that drew too close. The white warlock had gained his power—he looked like an angelic warrior fighting off the irredeemable.
He saw them and yelled, “About time! Well? A little help here.” His crazy grin took her aback because he seemed as if he were enjoying the carnage, which wasn’t like the Chance she knew and loved.
Warrick leaped into the fray, laughing and swinging like his nutty brother. He cut an impressive swath through the numbers, but in this place, they couldn’t hope to win.
Here, the Great Mother seemed far away. Trees and mountains and red skies made it seem as if this place was a mirror image of the one they’d left, but there was no wind. No scent that she could taste other than the coppery flavor of blood.
Some of the vamps turned their attention from the warlocks to her.
“Oh, a present. Look, Veel.” One of them drew closer. It looked human, unt
il she saw the eyes. Like the demons, this thing was pure evil. Its eyes were a dark black with no iris or pupil to be seen. Pale skin and huge fangs gave it that undead look, as did its stark black clothing.
When the thing swept out its talons to poke her, she bit its hand clean off. A strange thing happened as it howled. The thing’s body took flame and burned instead of regenerating the limb.
She looked around at those Warrick and Chance were fighting. Once skewered clean through, none of them regenerated either.
She roared to get Chance’s attention and mentally projected, “They die here.”
“I know.”
He and Warrick were starting to tire. She could feel it if not see it. Despite the decimation around them, they continued to laugh with enjoyment as they butchered the undead. A short reprieve settled before she saw hundreds of bodies closing in on them once more from the mountains. It was only a matter of time before more came to lick the sweet blood from her mates’ bodies.
She raced over to Warrick and nudged him back toward the portal behind her. How long did they have before it closed, anyway?
“Not yet. Shit.” He brought his blade down to slice two vamps in half.
Where the hell did they come from? Damn, they’re fast.
“Like sliding through butter,” he teased as he sweated and bled while keeping the portal at their backs free of more vamps.
She watched for those trying to re-enter their world, but no one seemed to want to return. Instead they wanted a piece of the warlocks…and her.
A sharp cry had her swinging her head around to see Chance being bitten by three vamps while he struggled to throw off four more.
Honestly, this had gone on long enough. Calling on her tie to bring them home, she let out a rip-roaring cry, and the blast threw the vamps closest to her on their asses. That’s a new one. Sonic roar. I like it.
Warrick helped Chance retreat some distance from their enemy. But before he could throw himself once more at the mass of evil wanting to suck them dry, she jumped in front of them and herded them back toward the portal.
“No, Regan. Our challenge is not yet finished.” Chance sounded oddly formal and not himself.
She turned to seek Warrick’s help but noticed the odd tinge of red in his eyes, the fires of battle lust and the fever of the blood moon running strong. Shit. If they stayed here to fight, they’d die. And she had no intention of letting that happen. So, she pulled out the big guns and shifted back into her human form.
11
“What the hell are you doing?” Warrick barked.
At least as a mighty jaguar, Regan had been somewhat protected against the vamps. But as a naked woman, she might as well have written snack on her forehead and thrown herself at the enemy.
“Oh good. You’re back.” She dodged two vamps who’d nearly had her. Then she danced away from a few more who stared at her as if she were their last meal. “Can we go now?”
Warrick swore and yanked her back to his chest, then lifted her in one arm and cut through several who thought about touching her. “Chance, let’s go.”
“Have to stay and fight. Kill the… Regan?” The battle haze left Chance’s eyes. “What the fuck is going on? Why is she naked?”
“Change back, Regan.” Warrick shot a fury of black fire and elemental ice at his enemy. He felt strong enough to fight into next year, but the nagging feeling Regan would pay the price if he lingered hit him hard. “We have to go. Now. Change back,” he yelled and tossed her toward the portal, keeping her in the air with his power.
Chance shook his head, added his power to Warrick’s, and watched as the burn in the red sky grew brighter.
A hand yanked each of them by the waists of their trousers.
“Damn it, woman.” Warrick turned around to glare at her. “I said change back—” He cut off in mid-sentence when a talon bit deep into his back.
Chance roared his rage, but Warrick saw nothing but his mate’s green eyes glaring at him.
“We’re going home. Now, Chance.” She dragged Warrick with her. He stumbled through the portal and fell hard onto a solid slab of rock.
When he shook his head and tried to rise, he found himself under the heavy paw of a huge-ass mountain lion. One that looked as if she would eat him if he made a wrong move.
“Stay,” she sent him.
As if he were a dog. He scowled at her but noticed her focus on something else. He looked over his shoulder and saw Chance struggling to close the portal. Around him, several beaten and bloodied mages added their strength, all of them floating in the sky like ravens in the night.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” she asked him.
He didn’t rise but lent his strength to Chance’s, and in an instant the portal vanished.
“Open up to me,” Regan ordered.
Bossy woman. Yet he loved her more than life itself.
Chance floated down to him. “You look like shit.”
“Ass.” He coughed and saw blood on his hand.
“Regan?” Chance frowned. “Why aren’t you shifting back?” Then his frown eased as he glanced from her to Warrick. “Oh. Open to her, idiot, so she can heal you.”
Warrick wanted to swear, but that suddenly seemed like it would take too much energy, so he opened to his love and to his brother. And then he felt it, that connection with the Great Mother.
Warmth and energy rushed into him, and he was aware of a cat licking his wound. “Ow, that hurts,” he complained. Regan had a rough tongue in her current form. “But you know, we can continue this at home, after you shift back.” He stood with help from Chance, his wounds gone.
Others soon joined them, cheering in celebration, his parents and Regan’s father among the admirers.
“Well done, son.” His father beamed. “You and your brother were amazing. And it looks like we have Regan to thank as well.”
“Yes. She is a shifter,” their mother said with typical disdain. Then she smiled. “But at least she’s a beautiful cat.”
Phil laughed and gave his daughter a kiss between her furry ears.
Regan purred and licked him, then rubbed her head under Warrick’s and Chance’s hands.
Everyone laughed and urged them to go home and recuperate. They’d earned it. Rumblings already sounded around them, about how the great Starr brothers—and their new companion—had closed not just a demon portal, but a vampire one as well. It was an unheard-of feat for a coven, let alone a pair of warlocks and their familiar. Tonight would go down in history as one of the great moments in magical lore.
“I’m beat. What say we get home?” Chance suggested, still petting Regan. Warrick took his brother’s request and teleported the three of them home.
Regan immediately shifted into an infuriated woman. And damn, but that rage had Warrick itching to take her all over again. But maybe this time he could be on the bottom. Or better yet, between her legs as he licked her to a happy state once more.
“You are such assholes! I know what you’ve Become. Dickheads!” She ranted and raved in her naked splendor, her gashes and bruises healing as she paced.
Warrick glanced at his brother and grinned. Chance whispered a spell, and the three of them were sparkling clean, fresh and now completely naked.
“You… What did you do?” she asked with suspicion and turned around. Then she realized their state of undress. “If you think you can seduce me into not being mad at you, think again.”
Warrick laughed. “Now, Regan. We have you to thank for grounding us, for pulling us from the craze of the blood moon. What can we do to get into your good graces again?”
“Yeah, mate.” Chance winked. He and Warrick moved into her space, backed her against the wall, and crowded her as they rubbed against her. “Let us apologize for worrying you.”
She sighed as each of them chose a breast and began sucking with fervor. “Well, I suppose I should hear you out. Oh…” She spread her legs wider when Warrick eased to his knees and opened his mouth.
“And I should…be accepting of… God, you’re good.”
She was so fucking sweet. He licked her leisurely, wanting to feast.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Chance whispered against her breast, then raised his head and kissed her. “We’re so sorry.”
“Yeah.” Warrick slid his fingers inside her creamy channel and couldn’t wait to see her come under his tongue. “But it’s all his fault about the rage. I’m the black warlock. I’m solid.”
“I’m white. So bright and full of energy.” Chance kissed her again and had her moaning as Warrick licked her and slid his finger between her ass cheeks, rimming her.
“Wear him down for me,” Warrick whispered. “Get us nice and trained and we’ll promise to be good all the time. Just for you, kitty.”
“Oh, forget it,” she rasped. “It’s too hard to be mad at men with mouths this magical.”
“Uh-huh.” Then Warrick showed her what a real man did with his tongue.
Chance made some magic of his own, and their little familiar—their lover, their mate— had them dancing her to her tune as she loved them with her mind, body, and soul.
Thank You
Thanks for reading When the Starrs Align, a fun take on witches and warlocks just in time for Halloween.
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