Remnants of Magic (4 page)

Chapter Five

“You weren’t lying about the wolves going bonkers.” Kieran sped back along the M9. It wouldn’t be long and they’d be back on his home turf. “I’ve seen vamps act friggin’ mental, but never ran afoul of weres before. Damn it. Bloody, wicked beasts.”

Without the high of the fight-or-flight panic driving her, London felt herself crashing. She pressed her hands against the screaming agony of the addiction that wanted to split her skull open with a migraine that would have brought even one of the blood-lusting wolves to their knees. More than the addiction, something else surged within her. Something she fought against with all her soul. As bad as she needed the Touch, she had to let Kieran go. Letting him go meant torment and likely death by her own hand when she couldn’t bear it any more. Selena had called London a ‘huntress of the Sidhe.’ Of course to a vampire like Selena, if you needed something, like blood, you stalked your prey and you took it from them. But London wasn’t a vampire and stealing magic from a Sidhe wasn’t as easy as biting him on the neck. Nothing about this whole encounter felt right, but she couldn’t lose herself, couldn’t surrender into enslavement. Damn the Sidhe!

“Are you hurt?” Kieran asked. “Did you hit your head?”

“I didn’t hit my head,” she mumbled. Even just hearing his voice unraveled the fury she clung to. If not for her self-righteous anger, she had nothing left. Nothing to hold her together.

London didn’t look at him, though she felt him watching her. She slumped against the door of the car. She kept her eyes closed, even though memories of the werewolves raging over Kieran’s blood haunted her. She couldn’t let that happen. Not ever. Not to Kieran. Nor any other Sidhe. The urge to protect fought to bloom within her, and she strangled it down.

“What is it, then?” Kieran’s voice was more guarded than truly concerned. Not that she could blame him, after the night she’d put him through. In a way, she suspected he talked more to fill the silence, or maybe to help himself calm down after the adrenaline rush. Perhaps he was just trying to figure out what more to expect from this lunatic in the car with him.

“The curse.” She trembled; even just admitting it made it worse. “Tearing me up inside.”

The silence stretched between them. London hugged herself, staying huddled against the car door. Kieran would drive himself home. Likely, he’d never see her again and be the happier for it. The car slowed and she opened her eyes long enough to see they were exiting the freeway. It surprised her when Kieran broke the silence. “You weren’t lying about that either, were you?”

“You have no idea. No idea at all. It’s,” she shivered, “bad.”

She felt the car park. Waited to hear the door open and close. Waited, but nothing happened. Had he simply teleported away? She glanced over.

Kieran watched her. Sitting sideways in the seat, with one arm on the wheel and the other against the headrest, he just regarded her. She stared back at him. The flow of blood from the punctures on his chest had ceased, but the tacky, half-dried blood still smeared over his bare and sweaty chest. Even with his hair a mess and the dirt smudges, he was still one of the most gorgeous creatures she’d ever laid eyes upon. He fixed her with his gaze, those chocolate-colored eyes making her body surge just to bear the weight of his attention.

He slid his hand from the back of the seat, reaching for her slowly. His hand, larger and stronger than hers, closed around her wrist. The expression on his face softened so slightly she almost missed it. And then, he Touched her.

The magic flowed with a thick warmth that soaked deep into her flesh before climbing her arm. London anticipated the sexual frenzy to erupt within her as it had on the previous occasions, but this time it didn’t happen. Instead of jolting her instantly to heights of pleasure beyond her ability to endure, this Touch caressed her soul with hesitation. “I’ve never Touched a human before,” Kieran admitted. “It feels… different.”

Every drop of magic raised her bit by bit from the depths of her despair. As it spread from her arm across her chest, it chased the chill from within like submerging into a hot bath. It saturated her, relaxing and renewing like nothing else could. As it reached her lungs and her heart London gasped, drawing the magic deeply into her system. From her heart, it entered into her bloodstream, pulsing through her body. She hardly noticed or cared about the whimpering that escaped her control.

“Such an odd sensation.” Kieran drew her forward by her wrist and she didn’t resist him. He pressed her hand to the solid muscle of his chest. She could feel the beating of his heart beneath her fingertips. His other hand cupped her jaw and then slid back beneath her hair to cradle her head. He lifted her to him, her face tilting up toward his. The press of his lips was the sweetest sensation of her life. The Touch flowed heavier now. It lifted her soul like a tide. The power hummed gently, awakening every cell in her body to the power of the man that kissed her. London opened her mouth to him and Kieran deepened the kiss. She felt more than tasted his magic, vibrant and demanding as it spilled across her tongue.

His magic brought her back to life. The shackles of torment vanished like they never existed. All she wanted, all she needed, was in this Sidhe’s Touch. As they made out like lovers, he filled her, completed her, and made her free. It wasn’t enslavement in the magic of the Sidhe, but life and freedom. That’s what her mind told her, even though she knew that it lied.

When the magic filled the void within her and she could contain no more of it, Kieran drew back from the kiss. She still felt the pressure and heat from his mouth lingering upon her lips. “Definitely different,” he said. “It was as if you were hollow inside. Empty. And I filled you.”

“Yes. It’s the emptiness that hurts and longs to be filled with the Touch. The magic doesn’t last long though. Only a few weeks and then it will fade away.” London still felt the beat of his heart beneath her palm. She searched his eyes. “What happens now?”

His expression lightened. “I have no idea.” His gaze dropped to her mouth and then returned to her eyes. “But I know someone who will.”

Chapter Six

Much to London’s discomfort, Kieran wouldn’t allow her to bring her weapons with her into the fey-only club. Even though she’d willingly surrendered her firearms, Kieran still gave her a swift pat-down, finding nothing but her business card, which he pocketed. She’d slipped both guns and their holsters under the seats before he interlaced his fingers with hers and teleported them inside.

Kieran’s didn’t release her hand as they walked into the Glamour Club. The lights suspended from the ceiling like neon golf balls illuminated the dark dance club with flickering spotlights of color. A sea of fey from various races danced on the black glass dance floor to the music from a live band. The bar stretched the length of the far wall. A pool table hid in a nook in the back corner behind the tables and booths. The place smelled of the greenest of forests with a slight hint of alcohol and cannabis.

“That’s Donovan.” Leaning close, Kieran pointed to a tall, dark man in the center of the only clear section of floor space in the packed club. The force of his presence alone appeared enough to earn him the respect of breathing room. Not an excessive amount of space as to make him seem separate from the fey surrounding him, but a good foot or so of elbowroom where others had to mill against each other in the packed crowd. Even in the low light London could tell his hair was a true and vivid black. In dark slacks and purple silk shirt, he appeared perfectly at home among the patrons. Tall and athletic, without being excessively bulky, the Sidhe carried himself like the force of nature as she’d heard him described.

By contrast, the younger Sidhe speaking with Donovan wore jeans with blown-out knees and tennis shoes that were not even a passing resemblance to the original white. The black T-shirt, emblazoned with the name of a metal band she thought she recognized, hung untucked. Leather bands circled about his wrists. Almost as tall as Donovan, the earthborn had a thinner, more youthful frame.

As the younger Sidhe’s gaze slid past Donovan to her, London’s heart gave a stutter-beat of recognition, stunned by the memory of a shared moment of intimacy. Apparently, the feeling was mutual. The young man’s dark eyes widened. His lips parted with an inhale she had the impossible sensation of hearing in the noisy building. His handsome features seemed even more youthful and innocent in his surprise. London remembered their kiss. The magic of it. How his mouth had tasted. The warm, wet caress of tongues. London had not even known his name.

That lasted all of perhaps three-quarters of a second, but time felt suspended between their locked eyes.

And then the young man changed.

A snarling fury replaced his calm. He jerked a knife a good ten inches long from a sheath on his thigh. He sounded more vicious than a werewolf as he launched himself at London, with the blade in a reverse grip to bring down upon her in a strike at her heart.

Kieran didn’t react fast enough. His “Whoa!” of surprise and the jerk of her arm as he tried to yank her clear came way too slow.

A hand snapped out, hitting the young man in the sternum and bringing him from the air right back down to his feet. Donovan. He never even closed his fist in the T-shirt. Just the flat of his hand ended the assault and brought the young man to a halt right in front of him.

As Kieran belatedly maneuvered London to a safer distance, she watched Donovan lean close and speak tersely to the youth. The lad pointed his finger accusingly at London, saying something she couldn’t make out.

Finally, Donovan turned toward London, his glare as stone-cold in his insanely handsome face as the rage had been uncontrolled in the youth’s. He pinned London with that glare like a cobra. She forgot to breathe under the power of it. At last, Donovan murmured something to the young man.

As immediately as the rage had taken him, the young man seemed to chill out. He jammed the knife back in the sheath. Without another glance at London, he turned and wove through the crowd and out of sight.

Donovan watched him go and then turned back toward her and Kieran. He gave Kieran’s state a quick assessing glance. Though the wounds no longer bled, blood and dirt still smeared his chest. The punctures from Stephan’s claws had begun to scab over. “You two. With me.”

They followed him on a direct path through the crowd that parted for them. A hallway she’d not noticed appeared before them as they passed through a layer of Glamour. Donovan pushed open a door and strode through it. London and Kieran followed. The office was nice-sized and expensively furnished with solid oak and leather. “Close the door,” Donovan instructed and Kieran complied.

The Sidhe leaned against the front of the desk, his arms crossed, his expression stone-serious. “Explain.”

London cleared her throat. “I just want to start—”

“Not you,” Donovan cut her off. “I want to hear it from Kieran.”

Kieran released her hand and leaned against the door. London felt the uncomfortable certainty that he meant to block her escape. “This here’s London, a human of the enchanted variety. Figured she could take the Touch by force. Snatched me off the street with a gun and a pair of silver handcuffs. Only, turned out a pack of werewolves were squatting in the love nest she planned to use.” He waved toward the wounds on his chest. “We barely got out of there with our skins more or less intact.”

Just bloody brilliant. She stammered, “Look, I didn’t—”

“Silence.” Donovan didn’t need to raise his voice to cut her off. He didn’t even look at her. “Anything else?”

“She’s mates with a vampire.” Kieran crossed his arms and cut a less-than-friendly look her way. “Not a fan of vampires, just so you know.” Then he shrugged, giving Donovan his attention. “I think that covers the basics.”

Donovan gave a curt nod. “Have Dawn take a look at those wounds.”

Dismissed, Kieran spared her a moment’s glance. “Silver burns like hell, by the way.” He pulled her handcuffs from his back pocket and dropped them on the bookshelf by the door as he left. She hadn’t known he’d kept them.

When the door closed, the full power of Donovan’s direct gaze hit her. London decided then that she preferred when he’d ignored her. “Do you have anything to add?”

Here it was. What did she have to say for herself? London crossed her arms protectively. She wanted to retreat to the farthest corner away from him, but forced herself to stand her ground. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I was desperate and hurting, but that was no excuse for what I did. I endangered Kieran with my carelessness, but then I risked my life to get him away from there.”

London paced, looking at the ground and hugging herself tighter. “Kieran said something to me, that enchanted humans were meant to serve the Sidhe. That’s what Rico demanded of me when he attacked me, Touching me against my will. Now Rico’s dead.” London forced herself to meet his eyes. “A while back, I spoke to someone else who’d been Touched and he said the same thing. That I should seek out a Sidhe to serve.” She left it at that, hoping he’d fill in the blank, maybe even volunteer to take her on. When he said nothing, just continued to wait for her to finish, she added, “I could be useful, you know. I have contacts. Investigation skills. It wouldn’t be charity.”

Donovan didn’t give any indication that her argument had softened his opinion of her in the least. “How do you know Malcolm?”

“Malcolm?” She shifted and ventured a guess. “The young man with the knife?”

Donovan didn’t answer, just glared at her with those cold eyes.

“I met him just one time.” More than anything, she wished she had some weapon on her right now. She felt vulnerable. This Sidhe was no earthborn youngling. No one needed to tell her that. This Sidhe was Mounds-born and there was no guessing how ancient he might be, though he looked less than a handful of years older than Kieran. “I did a job for him.”