Wild Magic (42 page)
Authors: Ann Macela
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Suspense
“She’s correct,” Sabel said, “or we would have gone in with a large force, possibly suffered a lot of injuries. Worse, we would probably have left the mansion as a burned-out shell and been on the evening news. No, if you hadn’t shot the damn Stone, there’s no telling what destruction Ubell and it would have caused. No Defender would have thought of using a gun. We certainly don’t carry them. We’ve always used magic weapons.”
“I was aiming at Ubell,” Jim said, certain beyond doubt his face resembled Irenee’s red hair. He wasn’t used to such compliments. He and Irenee had been damn lucky, too. “He turned the Stone into my line of fire.”
“It doesn’t matter how you shot it. You did, and both of you are safe,” Catherine said. “Since all the excitement is over, I have a more pressing concern.” She gave Irenee a penetrating look.
Irenee must understand “mother-speech” better than he did because she blushed now. “Mom, give us a break. We’re exhausted. Everything will work out fine. You know that. Right, Jim?”
Jim didn’t have the slightest idea what she was talking about, so he simply nodded.
Sabel grinned at him, then gave his wife a kiss. “Let the kids get some rest, Catherine. Irenee’s pale and Jim’s about to pass out.”
“All right,” Catherine sighed. “I understand I’m pushing. Yes, Irenee, I know you and Jim need to talk. We love you both.”
She gave both of them a hug and a kiss.
All Jim could do was smile and hope Irenee could get them up to her place because Sabel was right, he was about to fall over. Whatever Catherine and Irenee were talking about could wait.
When they got upstairs, Irenee made him take a shower. He did feel more human, but all he could do afterward was fall into bed. The last thing he remembered was her kiss.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Jim opened his eyes to darkness. Closed them again. Nothing to see.
Plenty to feel. Irenee was curled up in his arms, her head on his shoulder, her arm across his chest, her leg draped over his. He ran his hand up and down her back, enjoying the silken smoothness, the curve of her hip, the lushness of her butt.
No, he wasn’t simply enjoying. He was ... relishing, that was the word,
relishing
.
relishing
.
Plenty to smell, too. He took a deep breath, let the scents run around in his lungs. Flowers from her shampoo and soap and the indefinable something that was pure Irenee.
No, he wasn’t only relishing. He was ... savoring. A better word,
savoring.
savoring.
He gave her hip a little squeeze.
“Hmmmmm,” she purred and snuggled closer, just like a cat would, rubbing herself against him. Her fingers lying on his rib cage flexed to give him a little scratch back for the squeeze.
Taste. He’d taste her in a little while, when he conjured—now, there was a great word—
conjured
up the energy to move. He’d taste her all over. He licked his lips in anticipation.
conjured
up the energy to move. He’d taste her all over. He licked his lips in anticipation.
Right this moment, he’d indulge himself by simply lying here with his soul mate. He’d certainly earned it.
He tested some of his muscles, the ones that had been aching from Leroy’s punches. Nothing hurt. He wiggled his jaw and felt not even a twinge. Those healers really knew their stuff.
He checked his magic center. It was full to overflowing and vibrated like it was quite happy.
The damn thing should be ecstatic.
Just like he was. He smiled in the dark. Petted Irenee’s back again. Gave her bottom a little pat and a little squeeze.
“Hmmmmm,” she purred again, and her hand began to roam, across his chest, over his magic center—where it paused until he felt her heat warming his entire torso—and down toward his cock, which was already reaching for her.
No, he wanted to be able to think a little longer, and he captured the hand before it reached its destination.
She raised her head, gave his shoulder a little kiss. “How do you feel?”
“Fine. What about you?”
“Blissful.”
A perfect word. “Yeah, me, too.”
She put her head down and snuggled closer. He felt her relax into sleep.
He smiled and followed.
When he woke the next time, a glimmer of light was cutting around a corner of the curtains. He turned his head to the clock. Six thirty. The room was still dim, but enough light came in so he could see.
Good. He really liked to look at her.
Slowly he shifted to roll Irenee onto her back and to raise himself up, propped on an elbow. She was so damn gorgeous, with her red hair spread on the pillow and her fair skin so creamy and smooth. And her breasts, with their rosy tips, just begging ...
He leaned over to give the nearest one a kiss, a lick, another kiss, and, when the temptation grew too great, he suckled. His hand roamed automatically to play with her other side.
Irenee stirred, hummed, arched, and moaned when he sucked harder and used his tongue. Her fingers tangled in his hair and held his head to her.
He kissed his way across her breastbone—he could feel her center vibrating—and concentrated on her other nipple for a while before reaching to cup her dark red curls at the apex of her thighs.
When his finger slid between her wet folds, she groaned and pulled on his hair until he raised his head. “Come inside me, soul mate,” she murmured.
“Yes, ma’am.” He moved between her legs to stop on his hands and knees, poised at her entrance. He put a hand on her center, and his began to vibrate in sync with hers.
When she placed her hand on his chest, heat spread all over him.
Sliding into her in one smooth thrust put him exactly where he wanted to be—home.
He held himself still and looked into her eyes. He needed to make sure she understood him. “Irenee, I meant what I said at the end of the fight. I love you.”
“I love you, and I meant it, too.”
“I’m yours, and you’re mine, and we will belong to each other forever.”
“Forever. We’ll keep each other safe. You’re not alone anymore.”
The words reverberated in his skull, and a wonderful, miraculous warmth of satisfaction, contentment, and delight spread throughout his body.
“Jim,” she whispered and tugged his head down.
“Irenee.” Her name came out of his mouth like a prayer and a pledge. He kissed her and began to move.
Magic energy flowed through them and around them, sending the usual sparks throughout his body, but it felt different this time. No frenzy to mate drove him, no desperation to climax took over his mind or his body, no uncertainty about their feelings for each other frightened him. In this moment, only she and he existed, demonstrating their love and commitment to each other.
Release, when it came, overwhelmed him with its heat and depth and power, fused them together in a long moment of sheer ecstasy, and filled his heart with joy.
He was hers, and she was his. What he had done to deserve her, he didn’t know. He was sure, however, he’d spend his lifetime keeping her safe and making her happy.
He rolled to the side and gathered her in his arms. They snuggled while their breathing slowed, he cupping her breast, she running a hand up and down his back.
After a while, his mind started working again, and he leaned enough to see her face. “What happens next?”
“Hmmm? Next? ... Breakfast, I guess.”
“No, honey, next with all this practitioner stuff? Where do we go from here? While I’d be perfectly happy to stay here in bed with you forever, I assume Whipple and the rest have plans.”
“Oh, that.” She thought for a few seconds. “Yes, you need training, and we need to have you evaluated by the masters who study talents. I think your specialty will be hunches, but you may have other secondary ones.”
“I hope they can help me get control of the damned things. Oh, I almost forgot—you remember how so many of my hunches seemed vague? Ubell’s Stone was suppressing them. Before you came, he told me the thing was trying to tell him about another magic source—me.”
“We need to see about your robe, too,” she said. “How can we represent hunches? Maybe a moire pattern.”
“A what?”
“It’s the pattern you see on silk with wavy lines that also look like ripples in water. It seems to change or move if you look at it from a different angle. I think your hunches come from you looking at the evidence from different angles than everybody else. You’ll recognize it when you see it. As for the color, maybe a green with some gold to match your eyes.”
Oh, brother. All he said was, “Whatever.”
“Speaking of hunches, do you have any right now?” she asked with a wide-eyed expression of false innocence.
He focused on the back of his brain—not a wiggle of the antennae. “No, why?”
“Nothing about us?”
“No ...” What was she talking about? Then he remembered ... “Your mother said something about our needing to talk. You and she exchanged funny looks. Is that what you mean? Am I supposed to have a hunch about us? Let me tell you, it’s not a hunch. I have a certainty we’re supposed to be together.”
She turned as red as her hair, and he was fascinated to see her blush reached down to her breasts. Her words brought his eyes back to hers. “What about marriage?”
“What about it?”
“What about it? Are we going to get married?”
He stared at her. So that’s what this was all about. He opened his mouth, but shut it again when he remembered her dislike of commands. He gave her breast a small caress and her mouth a tiny kiss. “Irenee Sabel, will you marry me?”
She must have been prepared for an order, not a question, because her eyes went wide, and her lips went from an
O
to a broad smile. “Yes, I will.”
O
to a broad smile. “Yes, I will.”
“As soon as possible.” He made it a firm statement.
“Yes ... only...”
“What?”
“Mom will want to help, and she’ll have a guest list as long as your arm.”
“Do we have to go through a big hoopla? You’re an event planner. Plan a small one.”
“No wedding is small,” she replied. “There’s the place, and the dress, and the flowers, and the cake, and the reception, and the food, and the mmmph ...”
He shut her up the only way he could. By the time he raised his lips from hers, she was wrapped around him like the paper on a gift.
“We’ll worry about all that later,” he murmured. He reminded himself he needed to talk to Whipple about being a practitioner on the job, and his thought brought up another possible problem. “Irenee, how do you feel about my job?”
“As a DEA agent? Well, I’m not happy about the idea of your being in danger, but I can’t imagine you being anything else.”
He gave a silent sigh of relief. He couldn’t imagine being anything else, either.
Then she asked, “What about me and my being a Sword?”
He had to answer this one honestly. “I’ll admit, it scares the hell out of me. I can live with it, though—as long as you always work with your team.”
She gave him a wonderful smile. “Good.”
He turned onto his back, and she did the same so they were lying side by side. “I sure hope I can cast some of those spells Johanna was telling me about. If I’d known ‘unfasten,’ I would have been able to get out of Ubell’s ropes.”
“We’re back to your need for training again. Having gone through it, I can tell you it won’t be easy. But if you have the talent, the spell will come.”
“Yeah, I look at all the stuff you and the Swords can do, and I start drooling. Right now, the only one I’m sure of is
lux.”
As he said the word, he held out his hand, and his blue-indigo lightball formed and floated above them.
lux.”
As he said the word, he held out his hand, and his blue-indigo lightball formed and floated above them.
Irenee pointed, and hers appeared, glowing violet and indigo.
The balls began to merge.
Irenee shifted to prop her head on one hand and run her other across his chest, his center, and down. She gave him that oh-so-innocent look again and kissed his shoulder. “It’s not only the men who have secret smiles on their faces, you know.”
Her hand reached the part of him that had awakened when the lightballs touched each other.
“Come here, soul mate.” His voice was rough when he pulled her on top of him.
As their lightballs merged, so did they.
ANN MACELA
DO YOU BELIEVE IN MAGIC?
According to lore, an ancient force called the soulmate imperative brings together magic practitioners and their mates. They always nearly fall into each other’s arms at first sight. Always ... or so the story goes.
But what happens if they don’t? What happens when one mate rejects the other—in fact won’t have anything to do with him? Who doesn’t even believe in magic to begin with?
Computer wizard Clay Morgan is in just such a position. Francie Stevens has been badly hurt by a charming and good looking man and has decided to avoid any further involvements. Although the hacker plaguing her company’s system forces her into an investigation led by the handsome practitioner, she vows to keep her distance from Clay.
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