Witch Fire (18 page)

Her magick sat in the center of her chest, just as it had since the first time Jack had triggered it with his kiss. It felt warm and comforting, a tiny ball of light residing in the heart of her.

It was there, so why couldn't she access it?

She reached into herself, parsing out a thread of it—just a thread—to pull out and form…and it slipped right through her mental fingers.

She tried again and again. Every time something dark and indefinable made her balk at the last moment and cause the tendril to slip from her grasp.

Mira sensed a presence nearby at the same time her magick flared a little stronger in the center of her chest. Maybe this time she could take it. Again she tried to pull a thread, again she failed. The flutter of stronger magick within her receded.

“Damn,” she muttered, opening her eyes.

Jack stood near her, foliage brushing the leg of his black trousers. He wore a gray cable-knit sweater that complimented his ice blue eyes. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, Mira,” he said in his low, whiskey-rasp of a voice. It sent a shiver through her.

“Hi, Jack. I haven't seen you around here in a while.” She hoped she sounded unaffected by his presence. Cool. Uninvolved. In reality she had her hands fisted so tight inside her too-long sleeves her nails practically drew blood from her palms.

He glanced away, into the tree towering above her. “Had to go away for a little while, but I'm back now. Are you doing well?”

He sounded so detached. It was like they'd never spent a twenty-four-hour period making love to each other over and over again, like he'd never covered her body with his, murmured sweet-dirty things in her ear, made her nearly scream as he brought her to climax.

She tried to smile, but didn't quite manage it. “I'm better than I've been in a long time.” In some ways that was true, but not so much in others. Mira was happy to have found this lost component of herself, yet she missed Jack. Damn him, anyway. He'd gone and caused her to break the promise she'd made to herself, had gone and made her care for him. “Except my magick's broken.”

“I doubt that.”

She shrugged and forced herself to relax her hands. She really was going to draw blood soon, and Jack was doing that well enough merely by his presence and flippancy. “I can feel it there in my chest, but I can't seem to access it. I can pull the thread, like you taught me, but I can't hold it. Serena thinks maybe it's burnout or stress causing the block. I don't know.”

“It could be that, but I have a suspicion I know what's causing it.” Jack glanced around at the conservatory. “Have you tried to pull magick anywhere but here?”

“No. Thomas suggested we use this space and cleared out blocks of time so we could do it undisturbed.”

“Well, there's your problem. You're in the wrong place to be practicing.”

“What?” She laughed. “This is the best place in the Coven for this.”

Jack licked his lips and smiled. He glanced around the conservatory, inhaling the flower-rich, fragrant air and closing his eyes for a moment. Mira's breath caught in her throat watching him. “Why do you like this place?”

She glanced around at the yellow and red orchids on her left and enjoyed the sound of the nearby stream. “It's beautiful, tranquil. This is an absolutely exquisite area where all the elements work in unity.”

“I agree, and I understand how much you enjoy stability, tranquility, and order. But what happened last time you pulled magick?”

She shuddered and knotted her hands in her lap. “Chaos. Destruction.”

“Bingo.”

“You're saying that on some level I'm afraid to cause that here?”

He nodded. “Your subconscious is blocking your attempts to take the magick because of the respect you have for your surroundings.”

She glanced around, realizing he was right. She was afraid of destroying this beautiful place. Right now she was a little afraid of her magick, period, despite the rational pep talks she'd given herself.

Jack took a step toward her and held out his hand. “Come on, beautiful, let's blow this place for a little while.”

She put her hand in his, and he yanked her up so fast he pulled her right into his arms. Once she had her balance, she stepped away from him and pretended to smooth the hem of her sweater and adjust her too-long sleeves. She turned a fake-bright smile on him. “Let's go.”

Jack led her to a large, empty storage area in the basement. The room showed the age of the house and smelled damp. She wrinkled her nose as she stood in the center of the room, surveying the concrete floor and walls.

“It's not pretty, but you don't have to be afraid you'll damage anything in here. Try it.”

She closed her eyes and reached for her magick. Carefully, she pulled a thread and managed to grab the edge of it, but it slipped through her fingers.

Mira opened her eyes. “I almost had it, but I still couldn't catch hold.”

“You're afraid of it,” said Jack. “Don't be. It's your magick. You control it, remember? It does what you command it to do. You need to make it yours.”

He was right. It was only the fear that stopped her. She knew she could get over it, if only…“Will you spot me?” The question stuck in her throat from a combination of desire and apprehension, but she knew that if Jack was ready to help her control her magick, she might be able to maintain a hold on it and get over her mental block.

Jack just stood there looking stunned. Mira regretted her question in that moment a million times over. Obviously, he hadn't intended to get that close to her.

She felt her cheeks flush. “I mean—never mind—”

“No, I'd be happy to spot you,” said Jack, interrupting her.

This was awkward. “No, really. I'll be fine—”

He walked to her. “Mira, shhh. Turn around.”

She turned, and he moved in close to her back. His warm masculinity enveloped her and the faint scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. He brushed her hair away from her shoulder, making her feel warm, making her long for more of his touch. She had to focus, she reminded herself. He touched her because he wanted to help her access her magick, not because he wanted her.

Mira let her eyes drift closed and sighed when his arms came around her, his fingertips finding the seat of her magick nestled between her breasts.

“All right?” he murmured. Jack's warm breath disturbed the hair that fell over her shoulder. Despite the uncomfortable moment they'd just shared, Mira relaxed instantly in his arms. With Jack so near her she felt safe, protected, secure enough to draw her magick and use it.

“Uh, huh,” she answered absently.

“Go ahead,” Jack said softly near her ear. “I'll help you control it if you draw too much.”

Mira found a thread, grasped, and pulled it without even a flicker of hesitation. She brought it up and shaped it with her mind into a nice breeze. It blew through the room, hitting both of them and making Mira shiver in Jack's arms.

“Again,” Jack whispered.

Mira did it again. Then again. Then again. Sometimes she would make the breeze blow harder, or softer. Sometimes she made it go from the left to the right, or the right to the left. Once she created a gentle downdraft. She lost herself to the creation and release, tweaking here and there, learning the subtleties of her power. Mira found herself immersed in it, endlessly fascinated by the ways she could shape it to perform the task she set for it.

She didn't know how long she spent standing there in her concrete sanctuary, but when she finally opened her eyes and came back to the world around her…Jack was gone.

J
ACK CAME BACK TO HIS ROOM AT THE
C
OVEN IN
the middle of the night to find his door ajar. He stood in the corridor, his duffle bag hanging loosely in his hand, and contemplated it. He'd just returned from a trip to Minneapolis to handle the final cleanup of the destruction in his apartment and had taken a late flight back to the Coven. He was pretty sure he'd turned off all the lights before he'd left, and he was certain he'd closed and locked the door.

He pushed the door open and walked in, considering the glow of light coming from his bedroom. For a moment he imagined Mira in there, warm light spilling over her bare skin as she lay across his bed waiting for him. It made him take a step forward and then rooted him in place. If it was Mira in there, he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk away.

Who was he kidding? There'd be no way he'd deny her.

A mixture of desire and trepidation kept him standing in the living room. It seemed Mira had put a spell on him from day one. Fully immersed in it, he was doomed.

“Jack?” queried a husky feminine voice from the bedroom.

Disappointment and relief flared within him at the same time.
Ingrid. Not Mira.

He dropped his bag on the floor near the couch and walked down the short hallway to the bedroom.

He and Ingrid had an on-again, off-again affair. They were both in it for the sex. No strings. No commitments. As two fire witches, the sex was great, but their magick made them a bad match in most other ways. They ended up at each other's throats anywhere besides the bedroom. Fire witches, as a general rule, didn't work or play well with other fire witches unless it was between the sheets.

She lay on the bed with her long, silky blonde hair spread out against the black comforter and a sultry expression on her face. Ingrid looked like a pinned-up librarian a lot of the time, but once she took her hair down and relaxed, she was a knockout. Now she wore only a pink lace demi bra and matching silk panties. Candles on the small round table in the corner of the room, his dresser, and the night table beside the bed cast a golden glow through the room. Soft music played on his stereo system.

He leaned against the doorway and took in the pretty sight of her laying there in just her silk bra and panties. She'd already secured the long pieces of hemp rope to the eyebolts in the wall over his mattress. Ingrid knew how he liked to fuck her best, and she liked to be fucked that way.

Before he'd met Mira he would've had those little pieces of silk nothing ripped off Ingrid in an instant. Now, his lust and emotion centered in another direction, she was just an obstacle between himself a good night's sleep. Still, he had to do this right. Ingrid didn't deserve to have her ego crushed.

“Ingrid, you're a nice sight for a man to come home to,” he greeted her truthfully, “but, honey, I've been up since 4
A.M.
”

She rolled off the bed and sauntered toward him. “I'll give you sweet dreams, Jack,” she purred in a low contralto as she came to a stop in front of him.

“I'm sure you would.”

Ingrid smiled and reached out to touch his cheek. He caught her hand gently and kissed her fingers.

“But really, I'm tired,” he finished.

Anger flashed through her eyes, and his fire responded with a little involuntary pulse in his chest. “I bet you wouldn't be too tired for that air witch you brought to the Coven. Mira? That's her name, right?”

Jack sensed no jealousy in her, only displeasure that her plans to get laid tonight were being thwarted. Ingrid had no romantic feelings for him, as far as he knew.

“Why would you say that, Ingrid?” Was he that easily read?

She walked to the chair, where she'd discarded her clothes, and pulled her cashmere sweater and linen pants on. “I saw the way you looked at her in the limo on the way to the airport in Minneapolis, while she was injured and you were worried about her.” She grabbed her glasses from his night table, shoved her feet into her shoes, and then paused to stare at him. “I've never seen you look at a woman that way before, Jack, and I've known you many years.”

Damn
. He was that easily read.

Ingrid walked past him, but he grabbed her hand before she could leave the room. “Ingrid?” He just wanted to make sure she was okay. He'd basically just kicked her out of his bed.

She stopped and looked up at him with a smile and a soft expression on her face. “It's okay. I was glad to see it. Made me think you might not be a lost cause, after all, Jack.”

M
IRA AWOKE WITH A JOLT AND SAT STRAIGHT UP
in bed breathing hard. Panting, she focused on her surroundings. She was at the Coven, alone in her room.
Safe
.

Still, she reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp.

She couldn't remember the nightmare she'd had, but it clung to her like a cobweb she'd walked through. There had been whispering, whispering about plans to kidnap her, drain her of her power and her life.

Mira shuddered and hugged herself. It was possible she'd heard Crane and his minions via her still uncontrolled air magick. Once she was able to control her ability, Serena said she'd be able to tune into conversations and noises from a great distance. It had happened spontaneously as she'd been growing up, though she'd always explained it away as a dream. These days it was happening more and more frequently.

Crane probably hadn't given up on her.

She glanced out the window, where the clear sky showed a scattering of bright stars. In Minnesota a night like this in winter, without any clouds to insulate the earth, meant it was frigid outside.

It was nights like this she missed Jack's apartment and Jack's presence even more. Mira missed the scent of his skin and the feel of his arms around her. She missed the sound of his voice and heated look in his eyes. It hurt that he seemed to have no interest in her now, though she appreciated his help with her magick. Apparently, there was still some part of him that cared whether she lived or died.

It had been over a week since she'd seen him last. He'd pulled another disappearing act after the basement incident. When she'd asked Thomas where he'd gone, Thomas had said he'd given Jack another job that required travel but hadn't revealed anything more specific than that. Thomas didn't seem to want to talk about Jack much.

Mira sighed, feeling disgusted with herself.
One year
. Was one year really such a long time? Here she'd gone and fallen for someone within the first six months. Plus, her feelings were unrequited. That made the whole thing extra stupid.

She brushed her fingertips over her nipple and it tightened immediately under her touch as she remembered his hands on her…his mouth.

Hell, she'd take what she could get from Jack. If it was just sex, that was fine. She'd pick up the broken pieces of her heart afterward. It wouldn't be the first time she'd nursed an emotional wound.

Mira reached out and took the empty water bottle on her nightstand. She'd go down to the kitchen and get a fresh bottle. Maybe when she returned she'd be able to fall asleep again. Perhaps, miraculously, Jack McAllister would somehow be wiped from her brain.

Yeah, right.

She pushed the blankets away and found the silky black bathrobe to wear over her matching nightgown—another gift from Serena. After she closed her door behind her, she headed toward the kitchen through the darkened hallways of the Coven.

It amazed her how safe she felt here. Ostensibly, perhaps she should've felt a little more on guard. After all, the house was filled with lots of people she didn't know and therefore couldn't trust. However, Thomas had explained the system of warding and spells in place around the building and property, assuring her of her safety. She believed him. In fact, the very energy of the building felt comforting and secure.

As she passed through one of the many sitting areas throughout the Coven, she glimpsed a man in a chair. He leaned over with his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands, looking deep in thought or troubled, perhaps. There was something about the shape of his body and the way he held himself…She stopped near him.

“Jack?” she queried in a soft voice.

The man moved his hands and looked up. “Mira?”

“Why are you sitting out here all alone in the middle of the night?”

He pushed a hand through his hair. “I just got in and felt restless, thought I'd get a little change of scenery before I went to bed.”

“I couldn't sleep either.” She motioned toward the kitchen. “I was going for a fresh bottle of water. Can I get you something?”

“No, thanks.”

Uncomfortable silence.

Mira shifted from one foot to another. “Well, I'll see you—”

“How's your training going?” he asked, interrupting her. “Thomas told me you're making progress.”

“You solved the problem for me. Thank you. My training has been going wonderfully since then. I'm gaining a lot of control.”

“That's great.”

“Yeah.” She smiled and nodded her head, feeling stupid. “Yeah, it is.”

God. Small talk.
She was reduced to making small talk with this man who'd made her yell his name fifty times in one night. This was just wrong.

Mira hesitated a moment and then sat down in the seat beside him. He eased back away from her. She masked the pang of hurt she felt by leaning down to set the empty water bottle on the floor. “It's actually pretty fortunate that I ran into you. I've been wanting to talk.”

“Okay,” he said. “About what?”

The dark velvety interior of the sitting area seemed so intimate. Moonlight streamed in through the windows above where they sat and shadows slanted across Jack's face, making it impossible for her to read his expression.

It was better just to come to the point, she supposed.

“Can we just quit all this bullshit? I hate feeling uncomfortable around you.” She drew a breath before plunging into the speech she'd been preparing in her head for days. “I said a couple of stupid things before, and I think I gave you the wrong impression. So we had sex. So what? It's not like I want to have your babies or anything—”

“Oh, now I'm offended,” came his low rumble from the opposite chair.

“Jack.” She sighed. “I'm just saying there's no reason we can't be friends. We had sex, er, a few times, and it was great. But things got weird afterward, and I feel like you think I'm on the verge of pulling an emotional psycho-stalker thing on you and, frankly, while I do think you're beyond hot and great in bed, I don't think you're
that
hot or great in bed. Not enough to make me stalk you. Anyway, I'm really not an emotional psycho-stalker type because, you know, coming off a bad marriage over here, remember?” She gave a forced little laugh. Wow, her “prepared” speech had turned into a kamikaze mission. “I'm not making any sense, but you know what I mean—”

“Mira, stop babbling.” He leaned across the two-foot space between them, eased his hand to the nape of her neck, pulled her to him, and kissed her. She gasped against his mouth and stiffened in surprise.

Jack threaded his fingers through her hair and slanted his mouth across hers with a sexy-sounding groan that made her quiver. She relaxed against him when his tongue glided into her mouth to lazily swipe against hers.

Her body reacted immediately to the press of his body on hers. She'd missed the feel of his hard chest against her, and the flex and bulge of his biceps under her hands where she held on to him.

He pulled her lower lip through his teeth, and Mira shivered in his arms. “If you think I don't want you anymore, you're wrong,” he murmured. “Hell, I can't get enough of you. That's the problem.”

“But…I'm confused. What about that day in the basement? You just left me there without a word.”

“Because I wanted you to see that you didn't need me to spot you in order to use your magick. That's why I left.” He paused. “I also left because I knew I couldn't trust myself alone with you.”

She bit her bottom lip for a moment. “But why do you feel a need to resist me, Jack?” she whispered.

He took a moment to answer. His warm breath stirred the fine hairs around her face. “I don't want to hurt you.”

She narrowed her eyes, feeling a flash of annoyance. “Do you think I'm made of porcelain or something? I'm not that fragile. I don't expect marriage or anything. I meant what I said in the airport. I'm through with serious stuff for a long time. I'm a big girl and can make my own decisions.” She paused. “So why have you been avoiding me?”

Jack groaned and tightened his arms around her. “Because I want you,” his voice shook almost imperceptibly. “I want you so much, and the only way to resist you is to not be near you.”