Magic Edge (18 page)

“We have fun together.”

“Nearly getting killed. Repeatedly,” she said.

“Come on, Alex. Admit it. We make a great team. And you’re having fun too.”

“Fine. I’m having fun dodging one near-death experience after the other. I should go get my head examined.”

“Your head is just fine. Even your recklessness is rather cute.” He winked at her.

She taped the next bandage into place. “Your wounds aren’t bleeding as much as I’d expected.”

“Residual heightened healing thanks to Daisy’s treatment yesterday.”

“You’ve experienced this before?” she asked him.

“Yes, the last time she treated me. It will fade within a day or two.”

“That’s a neat trick.” She wetted another gauze pad.

“We need to talk about this,” Logan said as she dabbed the next wound.

“About what?”

“Our relationship.”

Her hand slipped, scraping the edge of the wound. He grimaced.

“Sorry,” she said and taped on the bandage.

Logan lifted his hand to her cheek, stroking it softy. It felt…nice. Too nice to be real. She dropped her eyes to the last wound, the one close to his shoulder.

“This one is bleeding a bit more than the others,” Alex said, more for herself than for him. She had to keep her mind busy. An idle mind wandered to forbidden thoughts.

You’re the one forbidding yourself. Which is ridiculous. You need to learn how to have fun,
the voice said.

What do you consider fun?
she asked.

It mentally nudged her toward Logan. It was a solid nudge too. She bumped against him, her nose brushing against his skin.

“Sorry,” she muttered—then froze.

A delicious aroma filled her nose, making her dizzy. Chocolate. Cherries. Something thick and masculine… She slid her cheek down his neck, trying to find the source. Orange. Leather. Metal… She stopped, dropping her hands from his back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his breaths shallow and strained.

Alex stared at his wound.

“Bandage it up if it’s bothering you.” He stroked his hand down her arm.

“It’s not that. I…want it.” She leaned in, reaching toward the drop of blood dripping down his chest. “I want to lick the blood from your skin.”

She tried not to look at it, but it was calling to her, compelling her forward.

“I want to taste it on my tongue,” she admitted.

He tensed, which only accentuated every muscle in his body. It wasn’t just his blood that was tempting.

“But I won’t,” she said quickly, drawing away.

“Does this have to do with being bitten by a vampire?” he asked.

“Holt said Gaelyn thinks I’m being turned.”

“Turned? I thought your body fought off the vampire venom.”

“Not into a vampire. I’m immune.”

“Because of your unusual magic?” he asked.

“Who says my magic is unusual?”

“I do. I’ve come across a lot of supernaturals but never one as extraordinary as you.”

“Thanks. I guess?”

He slipped his fingers between hers. “It was a compliment.”

“Ok. Yes, because of my magic. Holt says I’m turning.”

“Of course he says that. He’s trying to get into your pants.”

“No, he’s right. My magic feels…different. I’m different. I’m not turning into a vampire, but I’m not entirely myself anymore either. Before that vampire elf bit me, I’d never felt the urge to drink blood. I’ve been bitten before, but something is different this time.”

“The person who bit you was a hybrid. That’s different.” He pressed his index finger to his chest, catching the drop of blood before it slid between his abs.

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Is it just my blood you want?” he asked. “Or have you been sipping from that punk Marek?”

“No, this is the first time I’ve felt this. And you shouldn’t be mean to Marek. He’s my friend.”

“The dragon summoner gets to spend so much more time with you than I do,” he said.

Alex laughed. “You’re jealous of Marek? Really?”

“You should be spending time with me instead.”

“We’re spending time together right now.”

“Yes,” he said, a roguish gleam shining in his eyes. “Yes, we are.” He waved his finger under her nose.

She inhaled deeply, the desire for his blood flooding her with fire. She grabbed his hand. Her mouth opened in anticipation as she pulled it toward her. His blood smelled like hot chocolate. It smelled like spice and amber and leather and orange. It smelled like sex.

She dropped his hand. She couldn’t taste his blood. She just couldn’t.

Logan slid down from the table. He lifted his hand and wiped his blood across her mouth. It burned slow and steady, supercharging every nerve in her lips, tempting her to taste it. She clenched her fists and fought back.

There was something very primal—beyond reason and resolve—in the blood’s call. It saturated her senses, dissolving her defenses from the inside out. Her chest shook and trembled.

Logan stepped behind her, his breath hot against her neck. “Why are you fighting it?” he asked. “Why don’t you just have a taste?”

It wasn’t just the drop on her lips calling out to her now. It was the blood pulsing through his veins, throbbing with every beat of his heart. A soft moan escaped her mouth.

“You always have to be in such perfect control,” Logan said. His fingers traced down her neck.

Goosebumps prickled across her skin, and she dug her nails into her palms. “You don’t know what will happen if I taste your blood.”

“I have a pretty good idea,” he said, massaging slow, deep circles into her back. His lips brushed past hers.

“This is a bad idea,” she said.

“No, it’s a very good idea.”

As he kissed her again, the blood on her lips slid into her mouth. Magic flooded her, plunging and cascading like a thousand churning rapids. Pulling him closer, she kissed him deeply—no longer thinking, just wanting.

His hands caressed her curves in slow, teasing strokes. Then he drew away suddenly. A wicked grin touched his lips, and he tugged her top over her head.

“Cold?” he asked, rubbing her shivering arms.

“No.”

She pushed out her hands, slamming him against the window. As she kissed him again, her magic crashed against his aura, and her body exploded with heat.

“Alex?” he said softly as she slumped against him.

She buried her face against his shoulder, too humiliated to meet his eyes.

“Are you—” Something thumped against the window, and he turned. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Alex lifted her head just enough to look through the window. Marek was standing on the balcony outside. And from the look in his eyes, he’d seen everything.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The Dragon Summoner

ALEX SLID OPEN the door to the balcony, and Marek stepped inside, fading tendrils of electric-blue magic rolling off of him. The air stank of sulfur and sweat.

“How did you get all the way up here?” she asked, looking down at the street far below.

“I summoned a dragon to fly me up.”

That explained the blue magic and the sulfur. It didn’t, however, explain what he was doing here in the first place.

“I thought you were in London,” she said.

“Gaelyn called me back here on account of the colossal mess you’ve managed to get yourself into.”

He shot a hard look at Logan, who returned the glare twofold and began to tap his fingers across his knives. Alex stepped between them before a fight broke out.

“I’m fine,” she assured Marek.

“No, you are
not
fine, Alex,” he said, but he wasn’t even looking at her. He continued to glare at Logan, his eyes trying to burn a hole through the assassin’s forehead. “You are in deep shit, and what’s worse is you don’t even seem to realize it.”

“We’re working together,” she told him.

“Oh, yes. I can see how hard you’re working.” His eyes flickered to her. “Nice bra, by the way.”

Alex dove for her top, pulling it on over her sports bra.

“Lay off, mage,” Logan said, a warning simmering beneath the surface of his words.

Marek didn’t fail to notice—or react. “You’re oddly protective of Alex for someone who kidnapped her and chained her up in an old factory.”

“You are blowing this way out of proportion,” Logan replied calmly, folding his arms across his chest.

“Way…out of proportion?” Marek choked on the words like they were poison. “You’re mad.”

“I’m not the only one. I know what your mother gets up to, mage, and I know all about the sorts of vile things she has you and your brothers do to further your dynasty’s interests.”

Marek paled. “I don’t chain people up.”

“I was saving her life. If you’re going to come up here and make wild accusations, you could at least bother to get your facts straight first.”

“How do you know about that?” Alex asked Marek.

“Gaelyn told me about it. When you started hanging around the assassin, he became concerned for your wellbeing.”

“Gaelyn hired him to work with me,” she said. And he’d told her that she and Logan made a great team. Marek was just projecting his dislike.

Marek’s mouth fell open. When no words escaped, he shut it again.

“Wrong again, mage,” Logan said coolly.

Orange flames burst out of Marek’s hands, spreading up his arms.

“Really?” Logan expelled a single laugh, harsh and short. “You want to do this here?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Alex said quickly, then grabbed Marek by the collar of his shiny black leather jacket and pulled him aside. When they were on the other side of the room, she lowered her voice to mutter, “Have you completely lost your mind? You know better than to provoke an assassin on his own turf. He will pulverize you.”

“You underestimate me.”

Beads of lightning sizzled to life, slithering across the flames. Alex had the sudden urge to blast him with her newfound blizzard trick—but she couldn’t. Marek was her friend, and friends didn’t deep-freeze friends.

Besides, you’re lying to him about your magic. Or lack of magic.

Oh, good. Here I was worrying that you’d gone off and left me,
she said to the voice.

It grinned in her mind.

“I’m not underestimating you,” she told Marek. “But I’ve seen him fight. I even fought him myself.”

“Did you now? I hope you hurt him.”

“I lassoed him with his own chains.”

Marek snorted.

“Why do you hate him so much anyway?” she asked.

“I have my reasons.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, raising her voice. “And these unspecified reasons wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the ‘vile things’ Logan hinted at, would they?”

Marek pretended to be interested in the stack of wood beside the fireplace.

“Marek?”

He looked at her. “Logan, is it? You’re on a first-name basis with the assassin? Really?”

“We only call each other Slayer and Vigilante when we play dress up,” Logan said.

Alex swiveled around to stare him down from across the room. “You are not helping.”

“I meant in full-battle gear.” He shook his head slowly, but delight shone in his eyes. “Wicked girl.”

Yeah, she so wasn’t going there. She turned back to Marek.

“How did you know where to find us?” she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper again.

“I followed the sounds of gunfire, knowing you’d be at the center of it all.”

“Haha.”

“Gaelyn is tracking your phone,” Marek told her. “When you went into a building this morning and still hadn’t come out hours later, he became concerned and called me.”

“He didn’t become concerned when I was stuck inside the Rote Fabrik all night a couple days ago.”

Marek shrugged. “He probably figured you’d found yourself a quirky artist to go home with.”

“Yeah, because that sounds just like me.”

“Well, considering the way you were kissing the assassin…” His eyes narrowed. “What’s got into you?”

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“This is precisely what I was talking about before. You’re reckless. Of all the assassins in Zurich, why did it have to be Slayer?”

“He’s a good kisser.”

He frowned at her. “This isn’t the time for your jokes, Alex.”

She leaned in, dropping her voice further. “Something is happening to me, Marek. Ever since that vampire elf bit me, I’ve been feeling different.”

“Like vampire different?”

“No. Well, not exactly. Besides the thing with the blood.”

“Thing with the blood?”

“I was taking care of Logan’s wounds. There was some blood. It…called to me. I wanted to taste it. No, not just wanted. I
had
to taste it. It was like a part of me was missing, and drinking his blood would make me whole again.”

“Hunger?”

“No,” she said, her cheeks burning. “Lust.”

“Did you…”

She nodded.

“And what happened?”

“Well, drinking his blood didn’t quell the lust. It only kicked it up a few notches.”

“That explains a few things.” He looked relieved. “You were drunk. It happens to all supernaturals, and each group has its own trigger. For mages, it’s spell magic. For fairies, it’s that golden nectar they make. For the otherworldly, it’s those rivers of ethereal energy that intersect the earth. And for vampires, it’s blood.”

“I know this already. I’ve fought my share of magic-drunk supernaturals.”

“Knowing it and living it are two entirely different things.” He set his hand on her forehead. “Though I have to tell you that you don’t feel like a vampire.”

Which might have had something to do with her ingrained habit of masking her magic. Still, he was right. She knew what a vampire’s magic felt like, and hers wasn’t it.

“Holt told me I was turning,” she said.

“Holt?” Marek laughed. “Wait a minute. All this panic over blood is because of something Holt told you? That vampire is lusting after you even more than the assassin. I once caught him with a pair of your knickers.”

“Gross. Remind me to ask Gaelyn to have my locks changed.”

“You let him get into your head, Alex. And then your mind told you that you wanted the blood. It happens all the time to vampire groupies.”