Wild Magic

by Sadie Jacks

  “You asked for it, luv,” Lukas leaned down. Right before their lips met, Aeron’s eyes flew open.

  “You can only kiss me when I’m feeling better, you ass.”

  Lukas laughed, pecked the other man’s lips, and moved back. Careful to keep his hand on Aeron’s bare skin.

  “Pervert.”

  “You know you liked it,” Lukas said as he winked at me.

  I rolled my eyes at his antics.

  Hey, he could do whatever he wanted as long as Aeron stayed awake until I got him fixed up.

  “Asher, I think you, Lukas, and Aeron are going to be best friends,” Taryk said over our network.

  “As long as they don’t try to get in my pants, the more the merrier.”

  “Gaia help us all,” Xander said.

  I chuckled as we made the last turn to get in the bay doors.

  Sophia and Wren, my two best med techs, were just running up, getting their scrubs and masks on.

  “Bring the gurney,” I called once Taryk got the doors of the truck open.

  Wren, a tall skinny man with ebony skin and light gold eyes, nodded. He reached back and grabbed one of the padded tables we kept by the doors for such occasions.

  “What do we have, Atlas? Xander was miserly with the info.”

  We got Aeron on the gurney, Lukas still attached to him, and rolled into the infirmary.

  I began the medical rundown of the patient.

  Chapter 28 – Ransom

  “Gather round, folks. Come one, come all. See the man who molests little girls, beats his adopted daughter, tries to kill innocents, and sells out to the highest bidder,” Asher said as we frog walked Juan into Xander’s kitchen.

  Kiema walked forward, rage in her silvery gray eyes. “Juan. How unpleasant to see you.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Xander stood next to her.

  I could almost feel the insanity of need pulsing through my brother to lay into this man. I looked to Saint and Asher. They nodded almost imperceptibly. We let our prisoner go.

  Juan lurched forward, his hands raised as if to wrap them around his adopted daughter’s throat.

  Xander pulled Kiema behind him, and then kicked Juan right in the face like he was trying to break down a locked door. The smaller man didn’t even get a chance to change directions before he dropped to the floor like a sack of shit.

  Kiema crawled up Xander’s back. “My hero.” She pressed kisses all over him as she clung to his back.

  He laughed as he caught her legs, wrapping them tighter around his waist. “Anything for you, little goddess.”

  “Xander,” Saint barked. He made a cutting motion across his neck, tipped his chin to the man on the floor. “Not while he’s in hearing distance.”

  Xander nodded and helped Kiema rotate around so she was face to face with him. “We’ve got oodles of news, darling. Simply oodles,” he said, trying to imitate Lukas’ accent.

  Kiema dissolved into giggles that had the rest of us with dicks smiling like idiots.

  “I need help with body retrieval,” Taryk said mentally.

  “I’m on it,” Asher said, slapping both Saint and I on the back.

  “Thanks, bro,” I said.

  He shot a wave in the air before he disappeared into the elevator.

  “Why didn’t you hit him with the sedative before you brought him up here?” Xander asked as he set Kiema down on her feet.

  “We wanted to interrogate him first and I didn’t feel like waiting twelve hours to do so. If you recall, we have some fairly time sensitive needs,” I said, gazing pointedly at Juan again.

  “Right. We can put him in the Hold.”

  “Only if it's small, has little light, is very cold, and he gets chained to the wall,” Kiema said flatly.

  Xander’s head whipped around to look at her.

  Her face was tight, her mouth thinned into a firm line. Her breathing was escalating.

  Xander tipped his head to the side. “Would it be okay if he’s locked to the floor?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  Xander nodded. “I can make that happen. Give me ten.” He kissed her cheek as he walked past her.

  She grabbed his hand, rubbed her face into his palm. “I love you, Xan baby.”

  “Love you, too, sweets. But you better be careful saying that in front of these two.” He kissed her cheek again and waggled a thumb in our direction.

  Saint let out a growl, but it was more for show than anything.

  I bit back my chuckle.

  “Sooo…” she looked up at me, hope and a freakish delight brightening her face. “Can I kick him in the balls? That way I don’t have to worry about skin contact, but I still get to hurt him.”

  “Sure thing, honey,” Saint said as I nodded, a huge smile on my face. I waved her forward.

  “Wait,” I said, holding up one finger. I just had a thought. “Be right back.”

  She pouted at me, but waited just the same. I snuck into Xander’s closet. I knew he had a pair from when we were doing the Code Red modifications; Taryk had insisted all of us have some.

  There, under a mountain of clothes that looked and smelled a little ripe, was what I was looking for. I grabbed them up, held them behind me as I walked back out into the main living space.

  “So why am I waiting to crush his balls?” Kiema asked, her hands fisted on her hips.

  I pulled my surprise from behind my back. “Ta da!”

  “You brought me gross boots?” She raised one eyebrow at me before turning to consult with Saint.

  The other man was smiling. “You’ll like those boots, honey. They have steel plates covering the toes. Absolutely no harm to you, exponentially more harm to him.”

  Kiema leapt forward. “Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

  I bent down, pulled her silky dark blue pants up to reveal her ankles. Watching her skin slide into view had my dick getting hard. Luckily, Xander’s boots smelled almost as bad as his room. I didn’t feel as bad about wanting to ravish my mate with her disgusting adoptive father in the same room.

  Kiema got her feet in the boots and turned around. She reminded me of one of my little sisters playing dress up in Charlotte’s shoes as a kid.

  The heavy boots made odd clomping noises on the cement floor as she walked to where her adopted father lay on the ground.

  “Juan,” she called softly. I could hear the edge of steel in her voice.

  He moaned, lifting a hand to his face. “Wh-wh-what happened?”

  “You got smashed in the face by someone who loves me. But guess what, you sick fuck?”

  Juan lifted his head, his eyes almost swollen shut around the swelling of his broken nose. “What did you just say to me, little girl?” He tried to get his hands under him.

  Saint and I stepped forward, more than willing to help the man to his feet.

  Kiema blew both of us kisses.

  “Sick fuck. That’s what you are. That shall forever be your name.” She bowed her head like the goddess that shared her body. “And I’ve got a gift for you. Do you want my gift?”

  Juan shook his head as he tried to pull his arms free from our grips. His attempts were weak and caused Saint and me to have to take more of his weight.

  “Too bad. You’re going to get my gift anyway.” She stepped back, hauled her foot behind her.

  The boot slipped off.

  She threw her head back with gales of laughter. “Uh oh. I guess you’ll have to wait just a second more. Guys, why don’t you give him a teaser of what’s about to happen, yes?”

  “Sure, angel.” I stepped to the side, bunched my fist and drilled it into his stomach.

  “My turn, my turn,” Saint said. He stomped on the other man’s foot with the heel of his own steel toed boots. Juan’s screams almost covered the sounds of the bones of his foot breaking.

  Kiema finished tying her boots. She walked over, leaned down to the man who had tormented and tortured her her entire life.

  “If one of you wo
uld grab his hair for me, please? I’d like to see his eyes while I’m talking to him.”

  Saint fisted his hands in Juan’s dark hair.

  “Are you awake in there, Juan?”

  He didn’t respond.

  Kiema looked up at me.

  I slapped his cheek. His dark eyes popped open.

  Kiema bent her knees, got right in Juan’s face. “Beg me and I might stop.”

  I looked over at Saint. He shook his head.

  Fuck. This could go sideways for her very quickly.

  She leaned down as he said something, his words garbled. “I didn’t hear any words. I guess we’ll keep going.”

  I dropped his head like it was on fire.

  Taking a couple steps back, she raised her foot behind her. With a follow through to make any sportsman proud, she launched her foot in a wide arc that landed on the man’s balls.

  Hell, they might be up inside his body with the force of that one.

  Her breath heaved out of her mouth as her eyes glistened with tears.

  I must have made a noise because she stood back, her finger stabbing the air in my direction. “No. I’ll do this. I’ll do what he did to me. He’ll get to beg me for mercy. And I might or might not give it. This is for me to do.” She wiped a hand under her nose, her eyes hard as steel and diamond bright.

  “What the fuck do we do?” I asked over the network to Saint.

  “She’ll stop when she’s done,” he replied.

  “What if her heart is done before her brain?”

  “We’ll put her back together.” Saint got a better grip on the man hanging between us like wet clothes on a laundry line.

  **

  Over and over Kiema repeated the ritual that shaped her, molded her, forged her in the fires of hell. Juan wasn’t conscious for most of the beating; he’d passed out over twenty minutes ago. But that didn’t stop her. She delivered blow after blow.

  Harsh screams ripped from her throat with each hit to the man’s body. Memories were given physical form as she ranted and raged at him. Words that must have rained down on her head while she had been beaten filled the room. The taunts, the demands, the jokes. As every new piece of her torment sliced through the air, I broke a little more inside.

  For the little girl who hadn’t done anything wrong. For the teenager who just wanted a life free of her cage. For the woman who was wild as she ripped those bars from her life, crashed through them like they were smoke. She took her pain and anguish out on the man who’d dealt it to her.

  But at no point did I see her enjoy it.

  This woman who had not only saved my body, but woke my spirit, wore bravery and victory as the tears that streamed down her face. She showed strength and determination to survive with every scream that sounded her battle cry.

  Finally, she was done. No longer able to lift her foot to deliver the strike, she tipped back. Crashing to the floor. Tears streamed from her eyes, wet her cheeks, soaked her dark blue top.

  As she curled into a ball on the floor, I dropped Juan’s arm and scooped up this terrifyingly brave woman in my arms. Saint came over and joined us on the couch. Sitting her in the middle, we huddled around her as her tears dried, as her breathing evened.

  Her head fell back and her eyes closed.

  I looked at the man I shared her with.

  His dark brown eyes were filled with tears, glistening on the rim of his eyes. Held back by sheer willpower.

  Saint, more than any of the rest of us, knew what she was experiencing right now. He’d taken his vengeance on his abuser as well. But there were some injuries that didn’t fade. Merely scarred over. A living reminder of the grief, the torture, the misery of the past. With the right set of circumstances, those scars could be made new again.

  I laid my hand over his arm along the back of the sofa. He turned his palm up, each of us gripping the other man’s forearm.

  I hoped and prayed for Kiema, just as I hoped and prayed for Saint, that these scars would be left to fade and die. That I, this family, this life we built together, would be enough to counterbalance the hardships and heartbreak of days gone by. To provide enough love, peace, joy, humor, stability, and belonging that when those times of renewed pain came, they wouldn’t hurt nearly as bad, nor nearly as long.

  “Okay to come back in?” Xander asked over the implant.

  “Yeah, brother. Come on in,” Saint said. He looked at the ceiling, closed his eyes. When he looked at me again, his eyes were clear.

  Xander whistled low and long when he saw the lump that was Juan. “Little goddess went a little batshit, yeah?”

  “I’d think more than a little, Xan baby,” Kiema said, opening her eyes. “But at least now I feel clean.”

  “Remind me not to make you feel dirty.” Xander gave her a crooked upside-down smile as he peered at her from over the back of the couch.

  “Nothing can make me feel that dirty ever again.” She smiled, but it wasn’t quite happy.

  Xander nodded, leaned down and kissed her forehead.

  He straightened to his full height, looked at her. “I’ve got the Hold ready. Want us to move him?”

  Her hands, which had been resting on each of my and Saint’s legs, tightened. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. I’ll get cleaning the mess I made.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, sweets,” Xander began, his face darkening.

  Kiema held up a hand. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. Nothing of that man should taint your living space, Xander. I can do that. Make sure he can’t hurt any of us anymore.”

  He studied her. Nodded.

  “Cleaning supplies are under the kitchen sink.”

  “If you know where they are, why don’t you use them to clean your room?” Saint asked softly.

  Kiema giggled. Pure light, pure joy.

  Xander plopped his hands on his hips. “My place is clean enough.”

  Kiema snorted. Shook her head at him.

  “See, even your sweets thinks you need to clean.”

  Xander looked at me. I shook my head, lifting my free hand. “I’m staying out of this.”

  “He has absolutely no leg to stand on in this argument. I saw his place back at the cabin. M-e-s-s-y.” Kiema laughed again.

  I shrugged. I didn’t really care what my place looked like as long as I could find what I needed when I needed it.

  “Which is why I’ll probably be staying on Saint’s level,” she said.

  “I’ll hire a maid,” I said quickly.

  Saint laughed, tugged her closer to his side.

  Xander hooted like a monkey.

  Chapter 29 – Asher

  “Why does Xander sound like a zoo escapee?” I asked as Taryk and I walked out of the elevator.

  The group on the couch burst into greater laughter.

  The scent of disgusting sweat, tears, blood, snot, and other bodily fluids I didn’t care to catalogue caught my more sensitive nose. I turned to look at the pile of Juan laying on the floor.

  “What happened to him?” I asked.

  Kiema lifted her foot in the air. A familiar boot was tied to the end of her leg. “Damn, Ki-Ki.” I shuddered.

  Xander turned, made a cutting motion over his throat.

  I nodded.

  “I got the Hold ready for him. You guys want to help me move him?” my twin asked.

  Ransom and Saint pushed up from the couch, draping the single blanket there over Kiema’s body.

  “I can help. I need to talk to you two,” Taryk said.

  “Just you and me, Ki-Ki.” I jogged the handful of feet and launched myself over the arm of the couch. My belly landed on Kiema.

  “Ouff!” She slapped my ass. “You’re so heavy.”

  “Cuz I’m a bear, baby.” I looked over my shoulder. Made a claw, gave her a purr, wiggling my eyebrows.

  She giggled. “Bears don’t purr, Asher.”

  “The sexy ones do, Ki-Ki.” I did it again just in case she missed the part where I’m the sexy bear.

/>   The tightness around the corner of her eyes disappeared as she laughed. The hand she’d slapped me with began petting me from my lower back to my upper legs. I was surprised at how calming it was. I laid my head down on my arms, content to be here just like this with her.

  The woman was smoking hot, had an ass to die for, and she was petting me like her favorite animal. And I was more than fucking fine with it. Not one spark, one flare of desire or lust ruined it.

  “If you’re going to be rubbing asses, I must demand that mine be next,” Ransom said from the far end of the couch.

  Kiema chuckled, gave my ass another slap and pushed at my hip.

  I groaned, “Nuh uh. Not moving.” My words were garbled from my smooshed mouth.

  A few seconds later I was catapulted from her body and the couch. I landed on the floor almost two feet away.

  “I said it was my turn,” Ransom said, a huge smile splitting his mouth.

  “I’ve got to clean up the blood and other ickies from Juan. You two can fight to your hearts’ content.” She pushed up from the couch, slid by Ransom with a palm on his belly.

  “The fuck, bro?” I asked, curling into the blanket I’d snagged as I’d been launched.

  He shrugged and laughed.

  “She know yet what happened in Saint’s place?” I asked quietly, looking up at him.

  “I heard that, Asher. What did I miss this time?” Kiema said, her ass in the air as she ducked under the kitchen sink.

  Ransom bared his teeth at me, flipped me off. “Not yet.”

  “Oops.”

  Kiema came over, a bottle of cleaner in one hand, a rag in the other. “What did I miss in Saint’s place?”

  Ransom snorted. “You missed none of the good parts.”

  “I’ll second that assessment,” Saint said as he and the others came through the elevator.

  “I wasn’t there for that part, but I can only assume your performance was at least adequate,” Xander said. He winked at Kiema.

  She sprayed him. “Adequate?!”

  He laughed and loped to his chair.

  “You missed the power surge, sweetheart. Not to mention you developed fangs, sampled our boy there,” I lifted my chin at Xander, “had a goddess pop out of your body, and you acquired some type of rune. Although I couldn’t tell you where it went.” Her belly was smooth honey. Not a single speck of ink, magical or otherwise. At least that I could see.