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Authors: Shara Lanel

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BOOK: ATwistedMagick
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Shylah had never felt so singularly focused on her own body. It was humming with arousal, growing so taut she thought she would break. She felt her womb tighten, her vagina tighten against Gabe’s fingers. An intense magick was building in her, energy that would stream from her into the universe the moment he let her come. Goddess, she wanted to come, but she didn’t allow her hips to move, her mouth to speak, not even a moan to escape. The pleasure was so deep, so drawn out, she knew she’d shatter to pieces in the end. Gabe would have to hold her up or she would collapse like jelly onto the floor.

She closed her eyes and broke a segment of her consciousness away just enough to set her intention. Find the murderer. When Gabe released her from this ecstasy, she would send her energy out into the universe to work this powerful magic.

“Shylah, look at me.” His voice was even gruffer than before, more demanding. She opened her eyes. He wore a determined expression now, but his mouth was slightly slack like he was deriving pleasure without her touching him at all. “Don’t close your eyes. Not even when you come. And I’m going to make you come.”

He wrapped his free arm around her waist to pull her closer, then he thrust his four fingers deeper inside her while his thumb pounced on the most sensitive part of her clit. It was exquisite pain. It was an onslaught as he spread the fingers within her and thrust again and again. He stopped blinking as he watched her expression. Finally Shylah couldn’t stop her moans, couldn’t stop the grinding movement of her hips. She reached her arms up and twisted and pinched her own nipples. Her consciousness zeroed in on her womb, on his fingers, on the tightening of her vaginal walls, on the slick slide of his thumb on her clit.

She closed her eyes.

“Open them.”

She obeyed.

“Come for me, Shylah…right…now.”

She obeyed. His arm on her waist steadied her, he slid his knee between her legs for stability, and she gripped his biceps as she lost all control of her body. She was barely able to bring her intention to the fore as every atom of her pent-up energy launched into the universe. Find the murderer.

She didn’t realize that Gabe had undone his pants and freed his cock until she felt it rub against her inner thigh. She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper. His arms shook as he lowered her to the couch. Then he basically fell on top of her, fell into her. Though her insides were soaked, her vagina was so sensitized that his dick abraded her. She screamed. He started moving slowly. Her body adjusted, it started to feel good again, but she was too languid to want another orgasm. This time was about his pleasure.

* * * * *

Gabe had had all the foreplay he could handle. All he needed was to be inside Shylah’s slick body and he lost it. He clutched her as his body shuddered. There was no bigger turn-on, he decided, than staring into a woman’s eyes as she came. It was as if she transmitted her pleasure back to him. He was barely able to hold it together, but there was no need once he was inside her safe cocoon. Then he could explode. Then he could let go.

Once again, it hadn’t mattered that they’d argued or that they had fundamentally different belief systems. When he touched her, she responded in a way no other woman ever had for him.

He felt like settling cement lying on top of Shylah as he gulped air in between murmuring her name. Finally his heart slowed back to normal speed.

“Gabe?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“Mmm.”

“I need to breathe.”

“Mmm.”

“Seriously.” She pushed at his shoulders, but he was too spent to move, so then she started tickling his ears. He tried to swat at her, but couldn’t from his position, so he finally rolled off her a bit. However, the couch was so narrow he almost rolled off to the floor, but she grabbed his arm to keep him from going too far.

“Thanks,” she said.

“For what?”

“First, for thinking of the condom. My brain was too gone to care. Second, for being so selfless.”

He did not think of himself as selfless. “It was all greed on my part,
querida
. I needed to see you come.” He grinned, suddenly feeling so light. “I’ve never watched a woman like that.”

“Really?”

“Not with your eyes open looking into mine at that very moment.”

“Interesting.” She smiled. “We’ll have to do it again.” He must’ve looked eager because she hurriedly added, “But not right now. I don’t think I’m going to be able to move for some time.”

“I’d like to sleep with you, you know, in your bed overnight.”

“If you wish, but I think I need a shower first.”

“I’ll join you.”

“Okay, but no funny business, only personal hygiene.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“Uh huh.” She sounded doubtful, but a few minutes later, he was doing a good job of sponging her back without attacking her. She’d brought up a bowl of fruit and set it on her nightstand, saying it was a late night snack. Then they stepped into the steamy shower. Gabe couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed. Later she fed him grapes in bed and laughed about being his harem girl. She’d slept so soundly against his chest that, though he was usually a restless sleeper, he didn’t even turn during the night.

Chapter Eight

 

The loud banging woke Shylah before Gabe, disorienting her and making her think that she was dreaming since she didn’t usually wake pinned to a man’s chest. His chest hairs tickled her cheek and his heartbeat and steady breathing were far louder than the banging at first. Finally her consciousness realized someone was at her front door. She unraveled herself from Gabe, regretting leaving his warmth, found sweats and a t-shirt to throw on, then stumbled downstairs. She threw open the front door without looking through the peep hole just to stop the noise, thinking maybe she could keep from waking Gabe. Detective Hain and a couple of uniforms stood outside.

“We have a warrant to search your house.”

“Again?” Shylah was dumbfounded and still half asleep. “Why?”

“May we come in?” The detective looked a bit rumpled herself. She was using her forceful cop voice, but Shylah also sensed a bit of sympathy.

“Let me see the warrant.” Both women startled at the firm male voice. Shylah turned as Gabe came up behind her. He touched her shoulder and she felt immediately calmer. “Has something happened?”

Hain handed him the warrant, but also pushed past them into the house. The officers followed. Gabe, dressed only in jeans, perused the document. “You’re searching for tarot cards and knives?”

Shylah gasped. “Knives? Why?”

Detective Hain faced her. “It would speed things along if you would tell us where you keep such items.”

“But why now? It’s been months.” One of the officers had headed straight to the kitchen, the sounds making it obvious that he was rifling through the drawers and cabinets. “And why tarot cards? They weren’t found at the scene.”

“This time they were.”

“This time?” Shylah’s heart stopped. There’d been another murder. “Who? When?”

Gabe slid his arm around her shoulder and showed her the warrant, but the words swam in her vision.

“Mercedes Hector was found dead this morning.”

Shylah gasped. “Hector? Eva’s daughter?” She couldn’t imagine the woman’s pain. She felt the tears on her cheeks before she realized she was crying.

Gabe hugged her tighter. “When did it happen and what led you here?”

“They’re estimating time of death between ten and eleven last night. A tarot card with Shylah’s fingerprints was displayed at the scene.”

“My fingerprints?” She was starting to feel lightheaded.

Gabe shook his head. “Shylah can’t be considered a suspect then.”

Hain cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “And why not?”

“Because I’ve been here with her since last evening.” There was a wry note to his voice. “I was here asking her more questions for my investigation.”

“And you just stayed? She never left your side?”

Gabe smiled. “Quite literally.”

Shylah tried not to blush, but she was so damn grateful, not so much to Gabe but to the Fates that made sure she had an alibi this time. “Detective, do you have a picture of the card so I can find the deck you’re looking for? I have several.”

Hain brought up the image on her phone.

“That’s the deck I keep at my stall in Charlottesville. I use it for my public readings. You won’t find it here.”

“When the store is open, any customer or employee would have access to Shylah’s stall since it just has a curtain for a door,” Gabe added.

“Do you give us permission to search your stall? I’ll send an officer out.”

Shylah hesitated. “I just don’t want everything messed up.”

“Just tell us what we’re looking for and I’ll make sure the officer is respectful of your property.”

Shylah gave the store address and described the pouch she kept the cards in. “Why are you searching my knives too?”

Hain pulled up another picture. “This was left at the scene. It had the victim’s blood on it.”

It was an athame, a ceremonial knife, but the shape was unfamiliar. It wouldn’t match any of Shylah’s tools. “Usually the blades on these are dull, not for cutting.”

“This one was razor sharp, but not the cause of death.”

* * * * *

Gabe felt the tremor that ran through Shylah’s body as she looked at the knife. “Hey, why don’t you get us some tea? The detective won’t mind, right?”

Hain nodded, so Shylah obeyed. Gabe eyed her baggy sweats and jumbo t-shirt as she walked away and still found her as sexy as he had last night when she’d been completely naked. He tried not to smile since he knew the occasion didn’t call for it, but he caught Hain’s curious glance when he turned back to her. He shook his head. “Not part of the plan.”

“I see.”

“Does Angela know about this new murder?”

“I haven’t told her, but you know how small towns are. She’s likely heard about it from someone.”

He rubbed his chin. “I need to go see her today.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Now tell me all about the scene.”

“I’m not required to do that.”

“Professional courtesy, please. Do you have any more pictures?”

She’d taken a couple of broad snaps of the scene—the vic was laid out naked, one close-up of the victim’s face—she had similar coloring to Lalia—and close-ups of the knife and tarot card. “The M.E. thinks cause of death was strangulation, though a full autopsy won’t be done until later today. The cuts were likely made right after death, very little blood. You can’t see it well in my photos, but there was a salt circle around the vic and leftover incense, charcoal, matches and a candle with nails in it like at the last scene.”

“Does it seem to you like those things were kind of afterthoughts?”

“Hard to tell. I’d say the card definitely was, since it was laid on top of the body like a message or invitation.” She slid her phone back into her pocket. “To tell the truth, even with the fingerprint, I didn’t think Shylah had any involvement. There would be no reason for her to leave zero personal forensic evidence except a whopping neon fingerprint to point right at her. Killers don’t do that.”

“So the question is, why bring in Shylah at all?” Gabe nodded. “Is this person using her as a convenient scapegoat, or is there something more sinister going on?”

“I’m leaning toward convenient scapegoat, since so far Shylah hasn’t been threatened in any way. Correct?”

“Only by Candice, and that was the threat of gossip.”

Hain rolled her eyes, then looked beyond Gabe. Shylah had reentered the room. She set three teacups on the coffee table. “I offered some to the officers, but they said they were too busy. I also pointed them to the room with all my herbs, because there are several cutting implements down there.”

The detective sipped the tea, but obviously preferred the taste of coffee as Gabe did. “So have you seen anyone in your store in Charlottesville that you knew lately?”

Shylah nodded, inviting everyone to sit and doing the same. “Candice and Gabe. They both visited yesterday, though I suppose I must be Gabe’s alibi since he is mine.”

He winked at her.

“Hmm.” Hain looked thoughtful. “I really don’t see a woman for this, because the M.E. said there were signs of rape this time. We’ll know more after the full autopsy.”

Hain didn’t notice Shylah’s shiver, but Gabe did. He draped his arm over her shoulder. “The two girls are a type, don’t you think? The same age?”

“Yes, and some of the same school classes, same church. Similar hair and coloring, not to mention ethnicity, about the same height. I think we’re looking for someone with a thing for teenage girls.”

“Who’s using the occult angle to throw suspicion elsewhere,” Gabe added.

“Most likely.” Hain sighed and met Shylah’s eyes. “I’m afraid things might get worse for you though, as soon as folks hear your tarot card was at the scene. Most won’t care about the full story, just the obvious, the easiest. Someone to blame.”

“How could they even think…?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “How could they believe I would rape and murder a young girl? And why am I staying here if they do?”

* * * * *

The cops left and Shylah knew she should get ready to go out and work at her stall, but she didn’t feel up to facing the public today, especially if the cops had been there touching her things. She wondered if Gabe had noticed that she hadn’t showed the cops her real altar tools. Why should she let those be taken and desecrated when they didn’t match the one at the scene anyway? At least her fingerprint was found only on the card and not on the athame at the scene. She was still sitting on the couch sipping cold tea as Gabe moved around her, getting dressed, making phone calls, placing a bowl of cereal in front of her. He’d shifted back into investigative mode. The news of the murder seemed to sully everything they’d done last night, but she wasn’t sure why since it meant she had an alibi. It meant that Gabe could no longer suspect her. He could see her as a person, as a woman.

But she was still a witch, a witch who used him in sex magick without his consent. She’d used him last night with the very best of intentions, without premeditation, since she certainly hadn’t expected her evening to go that way. Her only hope had been to find the murderer, but what if casting that spell led to this second murder? Magick was never black and white; what if this second child had died to illuminate new clues as to the identity of the murderer? What if Fate’s way of giving her answers was to have another child die?

Gabe interrupted her thoughts, which was a good thing. “I’m going to try to talk to Eva. I found out Angela is with her, so I might have a way in.”

Shylah looked up from her untouched cereal bowl, forced her hands to still. “I should see her too, give her my sympathies.”

Gabe was shaking his head. “I hate to say this, because I know you have the best intentions, but that probably wouldn’t go over well and I really need to talk to her.”

“But you can tell her you know I didn’t do it.”

“Yes, but then I have to explain why.” He sighed, sat down, and turned her to face him. Their knees touched. “My cousin Angela will not understand…us. I would be facing a Spanish tirade the minute I explained, even without you there.”

“So you’re not going to tell them? They’re going to keep thinking I did it?”

“It doesn’t make sense to suspect you since there was rape involved.”

“It doesn’t make sense not to tell them that they can stop hating me.” Tears flung off her cheeks as she shook with a sudden rage. “After all this, you’re not going to stand up for me?”

“It’s complicated. I just need to get information first without stirring up the pot.”

“All about the investigation, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“Even last night?”

“Last night had nothing to do with the investigation, you know that.”

“Do I? Maybe you searched more of my house while I was asleep. Maybe you were hoping I’d slip up and say something while you seduced me.” She knew that accusation was outrageous, but she was frustrated with the one step forward-two steps back dance of this investigation and this relationship.

“Shylah, last night was as unplanned as the time before. You’re just so…hot.” He smiled crookedly.

She turned away from him. Deep diaphragmatic breathing, she told herself. It was a phrase her yoga instructor had used years ago. She used it now as a prompt to breathe deeply and calm down. After a few slow breaths, she felt better. Though she might feel like she and Gabe were building a relationship, it was purely physical on his part. She needed to give up expectations. Just breathe.

Not that she wasn’t pissed.

She opened the door for him, waited until he stepped outside, then firmly shut the door after him. Once she heard his car start and pull away, once she was completely alone, she went into the kitchen and found the pint of Ben & Jerry’s hidden in the back of her freezer. If she was going to release her expectations of Gabe, then she was going to release societal expectations and have chocolate ice cream for breakfast.

* * * * *

Gabe hated seeing women cry, especially when he’d just entered the room and had no idea how to console them. He’d failed to find the murderer soon enough to prevent another death. Detective Hain’s face across the room held the same pained expression. If only they’d acted quicker, they would have been able to prevent this.

He sidled over to her, knowing Angela watched him. “What are you doing here, Detective? I thought you’d be out pursuing other leads.”

“I guessed that you’d come here next and I thought I’d listen in on your interview. She was a bit hysterical when I tried to interview her earlier.”

“Feeling a little helpless?”

“Feeling a lot helpless. Gotta wait on forensics and autopsy and background checks. I’ve got guys canvassing the area for witnesses. I need something to go on.”

Gabe nodded, not sure that he’d be able to offer the detective anything new and most likely covering the same ground she’d already tread. He sat down on the couch next to his cousin, across from Eva.

“Eva, this is my cousin Gabe,” Angela said. “Have you met him? He’s a private detective.”

Eva looked up and scowled through her tears. “I’ve met him and he’s proved as useless as the other ones, hasn’t he? Why didn’t you stop him before…before…?”

“Why didn’t you stop her?” Angela asked, emphasizing the “her”.

Gabe didn’t want to go into the fact that the rape made it far more likely to be a man, and despite the occult trappings, this now seemed sexual. “Eva, can I ask you a few questions? I know it will seem repetitive, but maybe you’ll remember some tidbit that will help us.”

As he started asking her the basics—when had she last seen her daughter, when had she realized she was missing, whom did she hang out with—the doorbell rang. Hain walked over and opened it and let in two of the male teachers, Porter and Wann. Wann immediately came to Eva, expressing his sympathy though seeming a little stiff. She smiled slightly, but he didn’t sense any warmth from her, nothing to indicate she had any relationship with Wann outside of school. Porter, shaped more like a big teddy bear, gave her a gentle hug.

“How did you hear already?” Eva asked.

“It’s all around the school and town unfortunately,” Porter said. “Everyone’s worried about you.”

BOOK: ATwistedMagick
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