Tegan's Magic (The Ultimate Power Series #3) (20 page)

“You didn't have to. You could have just forgiven me.”

“I wasn't ready to do that.”

“Are you ready now?”

“I think I just might be.”

Suddenly realising we're a breath away from our mouths colliding, I pull back and try to cool off. He has this way of making me get all hot deep down in my belly.

“Well, that's a good thing if our friendship is going to work out,” I say, my voice annoyingly breathy. I step away to get the scissors. He's grinning again, but this time I ignore it.

I begin trimming the ends of his hair. Ethan tends to have this 30's style, long on top, short at the sides do. I try my best to recreate the look with the scissors, but I can't get it very close at the sides without an electric shaver. I'm used to cutting men's hair, since I did it so often for my dad. I work through it quickly, the muscle memory coming back to me.

I get so lost in the cutting that it takes me a minute to feel something tugging at the shirt I'm wearing. When I look down I find that Ethan has pulled one of the buttons open to expose the upper part of my breast. He drags his knuckles across my skin and my breathing quickens.

“Stop that. I'm trying to concentrate.”

“You're good with hair,” he says, dropping his hand but leaving the shirt button open.

“I told you I was.”

“You're good at being under me, too.”

I drop the scissors and stare at him, open-mouthed. Instead of trying to tell him off, I pick up the towel I used to dry his hair and dust off the back of his neck and around his ears. Then I pull the towel that was around his shoulders away, keeping the bits of hair from going on his clothes.

“All done,” I say.

“Thank God,” he mutters, before grabbing my wrist and pulling me onto his lap. I'm suddenly aware that I have absolutely no underwear on beneath the shirt. Ethan drops his face to my neck and licks me right over the spot where I've got the bite marks from Eliza. I go limp in his arms.

“We can't do this,” I protest, gasping when his hand slips inside the shirt and cups my breast.

“Yes we can,” he argues, pushing my thighs further apart. He's so calm and collected and I'm a heaving, breathless mess.

He claims my mouth with his tongue, his hand travelling up to hold my neck. His thumb brushes back and forth over the bite marks and I feel it deep down in my centre. His other hand slips under the hem of the shirt and he groans when he touches me, realising I have no pants on. He slips his fingers right inside of me and I tremble against him.

“I take it you're pleased with your haircut,” I manage to say, as his fingers move in and out.

“More than you can imagine,” he answers, thrusting so deep this time that I cry out.

I fumble with the waist of his jeans, trying to get them off him. In the back of my mind I know that what I'm doing is so very wrong, but I just need to lose myself in sensation right now, forget about all the bad things that have happened. As Ethan once told me, we can help each other to forget for a little while.

A few minutes of hungry kissing and groping later, I have his jeans undone. He removes his hand and in one smooth motion lifts me and moves himself inside me. I bury my face in his neck as I moan, moving up and down on him.

“You're one of those women aren't you,” I hear him say past all of our noises.

“What women?” I gasp as he fills me.

“The kind who never make eye contact during sex. The kind who you never know what's going on inside their head. The kind who don't want you to know,” the words tumble out of him. For a brief moment I see something beyond the controlled Ethan I've always known. For one second he seems completely lost in me.

“I make eye contact,” I protest.

“Never for long enough,” he counters, pulling my chin to him so that our gazes meet. I never knew how powerful that could be, just looking at him.

“You make me crazy,” he growls, using his fingers to rub me as he pumps into me.

“You make me crazier,” I whisper, burying my face in his neck again, unable to take the intimacy of looking at him. I orgasm against his hand and he reaches his own release, gripping my hips as he comes. I slump in a heap against him, unable to believe that I just had sex with Ethan on a chair in a bathroom.

We stay like that for a while, our bodies joined so intimately. I begin spreading little kisses across his neck and suddenly he lifts me up and carries me stark naked into his bedroom. Thank God Delilah and Lucas aren't around to witness it.

Laying me in his bed, he enfolds me in his arms and holds me close. One of his hands cups my breast and the other rubs lightly at my stomach. His breath on the back of my neck is soothingly meditative, and after a while, with our hearts slowing down, we both drift to sleep.

Taking Back The Number Of The Beast

I don't wake up until around eleven the next morning. Ethan's scent is all over me and I can't help the shivers that shoot through my body when I notice this. We're still in the exact same position that we fell asleep in. I don't want to leave. Outside this room the real world is waiting for me, and it holds absolutely no appeal.

I stay cuddled into Ethan for a long time, but I know I can't stay here all day. Finn and Gabriel are probably wondering where I'd gotten to last night. Thoughts of Finn make my stomach twist with discomfort. We're not together, have only shared one or two moments of intimacy, yet I feel guilty for what happened with Ethan. It's like I've broken the bond we've been building and there's no going back now.

Whoever said that having two men interested in you would be a dream come true was obviously a cold-hearted bitch. It's not a pleasant situation to find yourself in at all. It actually makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I leave the bed slowly, making sure not to disturb Ethan, and go to find my clothes in the other room. I dress quickly and leave the house, making my way over to Finn's place. Rita's RV sits still and lonely in front of the house. I let my hand drift over its metal exterior, wishing I could click my fingers and she'd be the old Rita again.

“I take it you stayed with her last night,” Finn's voice pulls me from my thoughts.

“Huh?” I say with a start, glancing away from the RV to find him standing in the doorway with a cup of tea in his hand.

“Rita, I assumed you stayed with her for the night. You never came back to the house.”

I stare at him now, my heart filling with guilt. I could simply lie and say that yes, I did spend the night with Rita, but that wouldn't be fair to either of us.

“No that's not where I was. I went for a walk yesterday and then Ethan came looking for me...” I trail off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

I glance away from him, staring down at my boots like they're the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Why are you acting so weird?” asks Finn, taking a step forward and studying me. Suddenly his face changes when understanding hits him. He shakes his head and tightens his jaw. “Ah for fuck's sake, Tegan. You spent the night with
him
, didn't you?”

“I didn't plan it.” That one little sentence sounds so ridiculous.

“Nobody ever plans that shit. I thought you were stronger than this. I thought we had something. I was so bloody right to hold off.”

His voice is cutting, but he's not as angered as I thought he'd be. It's almost like he half expected me to let him down, and that makes me feel even more worthless.

My heart aches like it's being torn in half. I'm not sure if I'm in love with Ethan or Finn, but they both have a place in my heart and it kills me to have to choose between them. All of a sudden I feel like not choosing either of them if this is how it's going to make me feel, all horrible and guilty. Dirty, even.

“I'm a joke,” I tell him, my voice heavy with misery.

He gazes at me, shaking his head. “You're not a joke. You're just easily led sometimes.”

“I suppose I should go pack my things,” I say, making a move towards the house.

“Eh, why should you do that?”

I don't know what to say, so I simply throw my hands out in front of me in the direction of Ethan's house and sigh, “Just because.”

“Just because nothing. I'm not an egotistical psycho like he is. I can handle you choosing him over me. Shit happens. You're staying put, so get those thoughts of leaving out of your head.”

“I haven't chosen him. I'm not choosing either of you.”

Finn laughs and folds his arms. “Ah, feminism has taken its hold has it? You gonna sow your wild oats wherever your little madam takes you, are ya?”

“No!” I exclaim. “And leave my little madam out of this.”

I hold in my need to snicker at Finn's name for a woman's private parts. How on earth does he manage to make me feel like laughing when I was all but hating myself? If I lost him as a friend over sleeping with Ethan I'd be devastated. “It was just one of those slip ups. To be honest I don't think I want to be with anybody, romantically that is. That way I can avoid feeling like such a shithead.”

“We all have to be shitheads from time to time,” Finn chuckles, but there's a sadness in his eyes – sadness and disappointment. He turns from me now to look over at the RV, swiftly changing the subject for fear he'll show me the emotions that are bubbling up inside him. It's selfish, but I'm glad of this.

“If you didn't stay with Rita last night, that means nobody did. Alvie spent the night with Gabriel. I hope she's okay.”

He walks toward the motor home and raps lightly on the door with his knuckles.

“Rita, you in there?” he calls. There's no answer, and when he goes to try and open the door it won't budge.

“She never locks it,” I say. “Not unless she's going out and she hasn't been out since Noreen's funeral.”

“Maybe she decided today was the day to stretch her legs,” says Finn, pulling harder on the door handle. This time a little bolt of purple electricity slithers over the metal and shocks his hand. “What the hell?” he says, staring at the handle in confusion.

“I think she's put a spell on it to keep everyone out,” I tell him.

“Jesus, did she get that idea from Emilia or something? And why would she want to keep everyone out?”

“Well, she practically bit my head off yesterday when I tried to hold a conversation with her, and basically told me to get the fuck out of the RV.”

“She did
what
? I thought she was getting better after the Empath worked on her.”

“So did I. Apparently the effect was only temporary.”

“This isn't on. She can't just keep herself locked up in there; it's not good for her. We need to get her out.” He stands back and puts his hands around his mouth, before bellowing, “Rita! Get your skinny arse out here now and undo whatever spell you've cast.”

At this my eyes are drawn to one of the windows, through which I can see Rita standing in the kitchen, making a cup of tea and completely ignoring us.

I walk up and knock on the glass. “I can see you in there. Please let us in. We only want to help.”

Her back is to me. She turns her head ever so slightly, but then returns to making her tea, pretending not to have heard me at all. Her coldness makes me shiver a little.

Glancing at Finn, I suggest, “Maybe we should just leave her for a while. I'm sure she'll come around.”

He watches her through the window with narrowed eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

We don't say it, but it's clear that we both have our doubts about Rita coming around at all.

Later that day, while I'm doing something as mundane as taking care of my dirty laundry, the absolutely extraordinary occurs. As I'm standing by the washing machine, sorting my whites from my coloureds, (or in my case my whites from my blacks and very few coloureds) a little speck of golden light buzzes in my face and flits around me like an annoying wasp.

I swipe at it, but it continues flitting around my head, growing in size. One second it's the size of a pea and the next it's a golf ball, another second it's a football and another it's a hula hoop. It fizzles and crackles, sputtering actual physical sparks like you'd see come off of a bonfire.

I back up against the washing machine, my hands braced against it and my heart pounding. My heart rate increases further when a blue foot sticks out of the golden circle, followed swiftly by a blue leg. That's when I recognise Edwards in his demon form and a huge smile lifts my features. He made it back! He falls to the floor with a sizzling thud, and then another body emerges, a human one, thudding to the floor right after him.

My dad's skin is blistered from head to toe, and his hair is all patchy, like parts of it have been singed off. Emotion floods through me at seeing him like this. He lies on the floor, unconscious but breathing. I'm distracted from staring at his horrendous state by Edwards coughing loudly, “A glass of water, please, if it's not too much trouble.”

Wide-eyed, I go and pour him a glass, handing it down to him. Then I go and crouch before my dad, who groans when I touch his burned skin but doesn't wake up.

“Is he going to be okay?” I ask desperately, tears clogging my eyes as I turn to Edwards.

“Human skin is not made to withstand the atmosphere in hell. That's another of the reasons why I changed into my demon form before venturing there.” He hands me the glass of water and I refill it before handing it back. He downs it in one long gulp and I get him another.

 I really want to comfort my dad in some way, but every time I try to touch him his entire body shakes as though in pain. I sit on the floor beside Edwards instead. “I almost lost hope that you'd be back. What took you so long?”

“The dimension didn't want to let your father go. He had taken the place of a sorcerer, a very powerful player indeed, and it was angry at the unequal exchange. A human for a sorcerer is not a fair swap. I had to take my time in order to rescue Martin and leave a cat in his place, which is an even more unequal exchange. When the dimension realises your father is gone it won't be happy.”

I get a chill from the way he describes hell as this living, breathing entity with conscious thought.

“So how long were you actually over there, if time doesn't move the same as it does here?”

“Months,” he answers. “It was tough, but I truly had a ball of a time.”

I raise a brow at this strange little fellow. “I think your version of a good time is a lot different from mine.”

Edwards chuckles. “I'm half demon, dear, of course it is. We demons delight in mayhem.”

My dad chokes out a strangled cough and I rush to his side again. I try not to let the tears flow when I ask, “Is he going to recover?”

A wary expression comes over Edwards' features. “Nobody recovers fully from what he's been through, but with my help he can come close.”

He gets to his feet and I suddenly realise that his blue self is still naked. “Now, could you bring me my suitcase?”

His suitcase? Damn, I think it's still in Ethan's car. “Um, I'll go get it for you. Is there anything else you need?”

“Yes, a clean room with a bed for your father. I may have retrieved him, but he's far from being out of the woods yet. I have medicines and ointments in my suitcase that will assist in his healing.”

At this, Finn, Ira and Delilah walk into the kitchen. Seeing me standing there with a little naked, blue skinned man at my side and my equally naked, completely burned father lying on the floor, Finn exclaims, “For the love of God! What's happened?”

He has his hand half covering his eyes, like he doesn't want to see Edwards' nakedness, but is morbidly intrigued all the same.

Edwards steps forward with a smile, entirely unashamed of his naked form, like those Naturists you see on TV. “E.J. Edwards, at your service. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Finn stares at him, bug-eyed. “Uh, the pleasure's all mine?” he says, high pitched. It comes out sounding like a question. Ira and Delilah grin at Finn's startled expression. Unlike Finn, they've clearly encountered their share of demons in the past.

Delilah leaves to retrieve Edwards' suitcase from Ethan's car and I escort the little demon up to my room, while Finn and Ira carry my dad to the bed as carefully as they can manage. We don't bother putting any clothes on him, because it would only irritate the blisters. Instead I find a soft cotton sheet and lay it over him.

Emotion catches in my throat as I again study how badly burned he is.

Delilah walks into the room, carrying Edwards' suitcase. Miraculously, he still has his leather satchel intact. Remembering how he said sugars aid him in his change from human to demon and vice versa, I run downstairs and grab him a coke from the fridge. He smiles at me gratefully as I hand it to him, swallowing it down in a few quick gulps. He gathers some clothes as his body changes, his blue skin turning back to its human shade and his tuft of grey hair returning.

He dresses quickly and efficiently, and I'm more than surprised at how able bodied he is, given his age and the fact he just spent the equivalent of months in a hell dimension.

Next he pulls several corked glass bottles from his suitcase, all containing blue and green coloured mystery liquids.

He glances at me. “Before I begin, could you please return my token to me?”

“Oh yeah, of course,” I reply, pulling out the small coin and placing it in his outstretched hand.

He squeezes his eyes shut and beams with pursed lips as he clutches his token, doing a little sway of happiness. I have to say, it's extremely cute.

“It's so good to have my token back,” he sighs and slips it inside his pocket for safekeeping.

He pulls the sheet from my dad's body and pops open one of the bottles, before pouring what looks like green paint over his skin. He rolls up his sleeves and begins rubbing it in. You know your life has taken a turn for the surreal when you find yourself standing in a room while a half demon is massaging your father with green paint. However, there's no doubt this isn't paint. It solidifies into a skin-like substance, sort of like a face mask.