Sin & Magic (Demigods of San Francisco Book 2)

by K. F. Breene

  He grabbed my hands and pushed them above my head before entwining our fingers, his chest flush with mine. Ours souls connected. Our magic fused.

  With his one last thrust, deep and hard, I blasted apart, flying to all points of the universe. Magic coursed through me, then ran through him, before coming back, like a wave in a bathtub.

  I trembled under him as he shook, groaning with his release. Another orgasm took me, this one still better than any before it, but just an aftershock. He shook again, his groan almost anguished this time. Once more and I went limp, bliss sparkling in my bloodstream.

  “Huu.” I wasn’t sure what I’d been trying to say, but I left it at that, closing my eyes with the solid weight of him pushing me into the mattress.

  “Truan,” he replied, and I figured he had the same problem I did.

  He rolled to the side and dragged me against him, fitting my head to the hollow between his neck and arm. I closed my eyes in contentment, still feeling that weird line I’d drawn between us. Still feeling our fused magic running back and forth through it.

  I had intended to figure out how to tear it down, but before I could un-fog my mind enough to think, sleep pulled me under.

  31

  Kieran

  A light buzzing brought Kieran out of a deep sleep, making him hover on the edge of consciousness. His body felt blissfully sated, warm and content. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this good, or this relaxed.

  The buzzing tugged at his awareness until he finished the climb up to wakefulness. He blinked in the low light of Alexis’s tiny, decrepit room, with the faded paint and stained carpet. The shabby curtains hung at odd angles beside the single-paned window. Old furniture, some on its last leg, dotted the space, her possessions all fitting comfortably because she had so little.

  If he’d seen this place before knowing her or her wards, he would have grimaced and quickly extricated himself from the situation. He would’ve thought she was a criminal or shady magical worker, hiding from the law. His perception would be that she wanted to live in this squalor, having no respect for herself or her surroundings.

  How blind and judgmental he’d been. How prejudiced against the people who lived outside of their clearly defined zones. He’d been as closed-minded as the Chesters regarding why someone would have to live in a place like this, outcast from both societies.

  Alexis’s soft breath dusted his chest. He turned his head and kissed her forehead. She’d opened his eyes to so much. Without trying, she’d forced a different way of thinking on him, and it had made him a rounder person. A better person. Through her, he was becoming less like his father, and more his own man.

  Let her go…

  Something hot and tight coiled in his chest, and his arm contracted, jerking Alexis closer to his body. She moaned lightly and curled tighter around him, sliding her leg over his and her arm up his chest to rest on his heart. He took it, fighting the overpowering desire to assume complete control of her life. To ensure that she stay safe, through overbearing means if necessary.

  That was why his mother had told him to move on. He knew it in his heart. Try as he might to fight it, he couldn’t escape the extremely possessive personality traits most Demigods were known for. He latched on to what he deemed his, and through hell or fury, he protected that thing—or person—with everything he had.

  In the process, he’d surely smother her, making her less than herself.

  Alexis deserved better. She was a wild spirit, most beautiful when she was free. She deserved a man who would be her partner— the air to her fire, and not the water that would douse it.

  Besides, Kieran’s father thought of magical San Francisco as his. If someone tried to take it, Valens would destroy that person mercilessly. Valens had protected his claim for decades. Nearly the full lifespan of a non-magical human. He’d know how to combat his son, someone whose training he’d organized and progress he’d monitored. Someone whom he’d always watched. Even now, people would be out there trying to figure out what was taking Kieran’s time.

  If Kieran dragged Alexis any further into that, she’d die right alongside him. He was doing everything he could to prepare, but as the inevitable neared, he had to face the facts. She couldn’t be a part of what came next.

  He released his arm and pulled it away, gritting his teeth against the overpowering urge to stay where he was. He took one last moment next to her, listening to her breathe and feeling her heart beat against his chest, and then eased out from under her and climbed off of the rock-hard mattress that wasn’t fit for a dog.

  As soon as he could figure out how to mask his efforts, he would gut this house and build it up anew. She deserved the very best, and he could still provide her with material things. Even in death, if he set it up beforehand.

  A soft buzzing drifted through the room again. He found his pants and patted the pocket, finding his vibrating phone. Zorn’s name appeared on the screen, along with the time. Four in the morning. Kieran had never spent so long with a woman. Not in his entire life.

  His father would know that.

  “Bollocks,” he muttered, stepping into his pants and pulling on his shirt. He needed to figure out a good cover.

  He glanced down at his mother’s trunk and a surge of sorrow punched him in the gut. This time, though, a soggy sort of peace drifted up to ease the pain.

  She was in a better place. Because of Alexis, his mother was finally free. She was free to ride the waves of the sea, to dive down into their depths, and to find peace.

  Alexis needed to keep her own freedom.

  Hardening his resolve, he hefted the trunk and made his way out to the kitchen. Zorn waited in one of the chairs, as quiet as death.

  “I wondered if you’d leave her,” Zorn said in a flat tone. He knew the score.

  Kieran didn’t say anything as he gently set the trunk down on the table. He noticed a white notepad with a vet’s name at the top. Next to it was a promotional pen from some cafe. This house used whatever they could get their hands on. True survivors in a hard life.

  A handwritten note lay detached from the pad. He angled his head to read it.

  I was in your house. Standing over your sleeping body. I could’ve killed you. Next time I will try.

  It was clearly meant for Daisy.

  “Creepy,” Kieran said, taking up the pen.

  “She thinks like me. She responds in ways I usually do. Anything less than extreme threats will roll right off of her.”

  “So then…she’s perfect for your teaching methods.”

  “The first to be so, yes. She’s had a unique upbringing.”

  “Haven’t we all.” He wrote a note of his own and ripped it off.

  “Valens will wonder where you are.” Zorn stood before picking up his note. They walked silently down the short hall together, separating to deliver their notes. Kieran put his note on the pillow next to Alexis’s head. It was for the best. Otherwise she’d probably try to stab him in the chest again. And after last night, he had a feeling she could. She’d figured out how.

  He frowned as he made his way back out. Zorn was in the hall, too, slipping a roll of tape into his pocket. He’d taped his message to Daisy and Mordecai’s door.

  “You’re going to steal their tape?” Kieran asked, rubbing at his chest as he made his way back to the table. Now that he was focusing on it, a strange weight had lodged there. It didn’t press on him in any way. It just sat in his middle, deep within his person. It was strange and foreign, though comforting, and for some reason, he got the impression it was a remnant of whatever she’d done to him last night.

  “I didn’t see any tape when I was rifling through their drawers earlier this evening. Or yesterday evening, I guess I should say. I figured I’d better bring my own.”

  Kieran hefted the trunk again. “And you’re not going to leave it for them?”

  “Why should I? It’s my tape. Alexis has a job now. She can get her own.”

  Kieran huffed out
a laugh and headed for the door. “You and Daisy definitely have similar outlooks.”

  Zorn opened the door for him and stood to the side, waiting for him to go through. The weight in his middle intensified. He frowned, wanting to swipe at his chest, as though that might dislodge it. On the porch, when the tug increased, he glanced down, half wondering if a magical string of some kind was attached to his middle. He couldn’t sense any power, though. He couldn’t sense any residual magic drifting from or attached to his body.

  “Are you going to drop off the trunk this morning?” Zorn asked, stepping off the porch before him.

  “Yes. I want to put a camera on the area. If we can get a satellite on it, that’d be best, but a stationary camera will do if that’s not possible. There must be a place we can hide a monitoring device.”

  “Navigating that fog will be—what is it?”

  Kieran stared at a solitary figure standing in the middle of the struggling greenish-brown lawn. A gray comb-over adorned an otherwise shiny scalp, and wrinkles layered a pair of watery brown eyes. He wore a plucky suit from yesteryear, and slouched in a way that made an otherwise small stomach appear larger.

  His outward appearance and obvious trespassing wasn’t what made Kieran stop and stare. There was a weird feeling about him, almost as if his solidity could dissipate into nothing at any moment.

  “Do you see that guy?” Kieran asked in a hush, sudden anxiety making his heart race.

  Zorn looked around the front yard. He was a man who missed very little, so certainly he’d notice a man in his sixties hanging out in plain sight.

  “Tell me you can see that guy,” Kieran said, a cold sweat breaking out.

  “Where?” Zorn said, his body loosening, preparing to react violently.

  “She gave me her power.” Kieran started forward, his body stiff and adrenaline surging through him. “She gave me the ability to see spirits.”

  “What?” Zorn took the trunk from Kieran, studying his face.

  Kieran moved down the walkway, stopping when he was even with the man. Staring at him.

  The man looked behind him, then around the yard, then finally back at him. “Can you see me?”

  A wave of dizziness hit Kieran, his mind reeling. “You’re not…” He swallowed. Of all the things he’d been through, all the things he’d done, seeing the spirit of an old man was the thing that gave him pause? “Are you Frank?”

  Zorn startled and pushed in beside Kieran.

  The man put a finger to his chest and lifted his gray eyebrows. “You can see me?” he repeated.

  Kieran wiped at his chest, feeling that tug again. It was trying to draw him back to the house. Back to her.

  “Somehow, she gave me the ability to see spirits,” Kieran said again, mystified.

  “How?” Zorn asked as Frank said, “Well, I’ll be damned. That’s great, actually. I know you’re the one who organizes security around these parts, and I have been keeping an eye on things. It’ll be great to discuss the situation firsthand, with—”

  Kieran swung his gaze back to Frank, his patience quickly wearing thin.

  The ghost cut off. His mouth closed and his lips turned white.

  “I don’t know,” Kieran answered Zorn, thinking back to the night before. To the feeling of her lightly stroking the very center of him, an insanely intimate and erotic moment. She’d opened herself to him, too, in a way that had drawn him in, body and soul.

  …body and soul…

  “Will it last, do you think?” Zorn asked, moving on toward his car and much larger trunk.

  “I don’t know,” he repeated, his tone harder this time.

  “Do you think she did it on purpose?”

  Kieran shook his head. He had no concrete answer, but it seemed unlikely. She didn’t have enough working knowledge for that.

  “I think she was just reacting to the moment. The question is, if this lasts, will it help or hurt?”

  Kieran stopped beside the car and waited for Zorn to open the back. He did so as Frank the Ghost drifted toward the sidewalk, watching their progress.

  A flare of territorialism stole over Kieran, making him grit his teeth. He moved to the car with stiff legs, but couldn’t contain a surge of aggression.

  “Get off of her lawn,” he ground out, turning. A wave of power swept the yard, cutting into the center of the ghost. Zorn staggered against the car. The ghost’s face contorted into a look of fear, then terror, before he sprinted to the sidewalk and bowed.

  “So sorry, sir. I see my error,” the ghost groveled. “Lawn is a sacred thing. Trampling all over it is rude. That was my fault. I’ll stick to the hard surfaces, weeds, and dirt from now on. Thank you for showing me the error of my ways.”

  Kieran let his gaze linger on the repeatedly bowing ghost, driving home his point, before reaching for the car handle. Zorn strode to the driver’s door, his gaze speculative and face pale.

  “That was Alexis’s magic,” Zorn said conversationally.

  “Appears so.”

  “It wasn’t as nuanced or terrifying as hers, but it still fucking hurt.”

  “That’ll be helpful,” Kieran said lightly, hiding the strange uncertainty tickling the pit of his stomach.

  “Yes. Unless you do it without thinking and alert everyone of this new, extremely potent magic.”

  “Unless that, yes.”

  “You’ll have to control your moods a little better.”

  Kieran headed to his Ferrari. “Or learn to control which of my magic goes into which command.”

  “Or that, sure.”

  “If it lasts.”

  Zorn nodded. “If it lasts.”

  “It would sure be helpful if it did.”

  “For all of our sakes, yes.” Zorn opened his car door, then paused for a moment. He tilted his head and a very rare grin twisted his lips. “I find myself incredibly jealous, sir. Incredibly jealous. And you likely have only a sliver of the power Alexis has within the spirit realm. Just think what she will do when she reaches her full potential.”

  32

  Alexis

  The first indication that something was amiss: light drifted through my window, not hindered by thick blankets of fog.

  The second indication that something was amiss: the lack of the comforting warmth of the large Demigod who had given me the best sex of my life.

  The third indication that something was amiss, which didn’t materialize until after I’d propped myself onto my elbows and looked around my empty bedroom in bewilderment: a small square piece of white paper had been left on my pillow.

  With a falling brow, I sat up and grabbed the note. Written in a surprisingly delicate scrawl was: Goodbye. I’ll miss you.

  My heart sank.

  I knew at once he was telling me goodbye forever, like he’d told his mother last night. He’d been serious about trying to protect me, and to him that meant pushing me away.

  A strange hollowness ached in my middle, followed by a tug to hurry up out of the room and go…

  I didn’t know where I wanted to go. Just…out.

  Out there….

  Out there somewhere…

  I frowned in confusion, processing. The memory of stroking his soul came back to me. It had been so easy to get into that protected cavern and find the treasure of his person. I hadn’t forced my way in, I’d seeped in. The difference had been in the approach.

  Or maybe the difference had been in his openness. He hadn’t put up his usual blockade, and when he’d used his magic, it hadn’t torn me apart like it usually would.

  Now, he and his mother were out of my life.

  I sat in the stillness of the room, deciding how I felt. Deciding what I wanted to do.

  He’d left me in peace—in the safety of anonymity. He’d pushed me out of his controlling sphere, and out of danger. He’d given me back the life I’d lived before him, but with a bunch of money to make things easier.

  He’d set me free.

  He’d also give
n me unbelievable sex, filled with passion and yearning. Filled with respect and mutual pleasure. He’d been better than his sexy magic felt, something I hadn’t thought possible. It would be hard to let go of that.

  It would be hard to let go of him.

  Really, I should be thankful he’d relieved me of the need to extricate myself from the situation. The man was bad news. He’d had his people barge into my house in the middle of the night and knock us around, for goodness’s sake. Maybe we were on equal footing in bed, but in life he’d always been in charge and three steps ahead. Bria was right—I needed to steer clear from that sort of nonsense.

  Besides, Kieran was a product of Valens. That guy was whack. He’d imprisoned his love in life and in death. He’d made shrines for her while basically torturing her. That was so far from normal it was in a league of its own. Kieran wasn’t just protecting me from Valens by pushing me away, he was protecting me from himself and his crazy heritage.

  He’s trying to protect me…

  I dragged my teeth across my bottom lip and stared out the window.

  That’s what it always came down to. He was trying to protect me.

  I’d never been in any danger from Kieran Drusus or any of his people. He’d inherited some of his father’s traits, but he was no Valens. He’d healed Mordecai without expecting anything in return. He’d hoped for something, sure, but he’d left me free of obligation. His men were training Mordecai and Daisy on his orders, and he also paid for our groceries and ensured someone made us dinner every night. He’d bought me extremely expensive clothes and hadn’t even mentioned the fact that I’d stolen them from his house. He was training me. Leaving me with a year’s salary plus a large bonus…

  The first thing he’d ever done for me was give a sick kid a blanket.

  He had a lot of faults, that was clear, but I believed in my soul that he was a legitimately good person. He tried to do his best, even if he sometimes fell short.

  So maybe I should cry?

  Anger rose up out of nowhere.