Forgotten Magic Page 22

  And then, like dominoes falling, the memory unfolded.

  He kissed me, taking and taking until I could not breathe. It was an overwhelming, unbelievable moment and I prayed for the endlessness, for the seconds to twist and stretch and never stop. Bane was large and beautiful and tasted like something that would fill me completely. I was greedy for each touch, each taste, and my heart became something that sped and pumped like I had just run a race and needed the extra blood flow.

  “Jani,” he said again, eager to have me backed up to the wall with his mouth nibbling against my neck. “Jani. Damn, what you do to me.”

  “Please…please don’t stop…” And he didn’t and that thick, warm tongue drew circles into my skin, his hands gripping and pulling, and for once I was needed, wanted more than I could have ever imagined.

  “Touch me,” he said, moaning, happy when I obliged.

  And I did, just then, my nails down his neck, over his chest, my teeth skimming across the wide contours of his chest. He seemed to really like my fingertips against his hard nipples and my lips and tongue wetting down the center of his throat. There was a heat, some sort of spell cast between our bodies, a hum that mirrored the heartbeat of the earth, the faint, but constant purr of the ley lines pulsing through the Cove. That’s what zipped around the room, the sensation foreign to anyone mortal. Bane tilted me back, his large, strong hands holding me, my head as he smoothed his mouth and nose down my neck, in the valley of my breasts and my hips moved, grinding against him, making our centers touch. Just then I felt it, him, long and hard and gloriously hot through my thin shorts.

  We had let ourselves go on too far. There was too much touching, too many months of pent up attraction that we could not see the light flickering through our limbs or hear the slow thump of each other’s hearts beating beneath our skin. Bane’s low, hurried groan of pleasure, my eager, needy moans grew louder, stronger until that great whip of electricity between us moved hard and easy through our touching bodies.

  “Shit,” he said, stilling completely when I slowed my hips so that my center rode his straining cock. “I…shit, Jani…”

  And just then, I knew Bane would stop me. He wouldn’t let me have the only thing I wanted before I left Crimson Cove. He’d let me have a taste, but only a brief one.

  “It’s okay,” I told him, already stuffing down my disappointment. “It’s fine.”

  But as I tried to disengage from him and step away to retrieve my bag, Bane pulled me against his chest with his large arm hooked around my waist. “It’s not fucking fine,” he said, burying his nose in my hair. “It’s not fine that I have to sell myself to some girl I don’t know because your coven is…”

  “Poor?”

  He held me tighter, surer, as though his touch would erase reality from the moment. He wouldn’t marry for love. He’d marry for power, and my coven was small, too young to have any real clout. There was no way I would ever be suited for Bane.

  But that didn’t make me want him any less, and it didn’t stop him from spreading his fingers over my stomach, along my hips. “Right now I don’t really care about anything but the way you feel against me.”

  I leaned back, resting my head on his shoulder as I scrubbed my fingers through his hair. “Gods, neither do I.”

  That growl did something to me, had my body clenching and pulsing, and I couldn’t help but arch against him, kissing him again, desperate, eager and then, it happened again.

  That quick, smooth light, the flow of magic from the lines, the red pulse of energy, our skin firing sharp, bright, and I shuddered. Suddenly I was being opened up completely, and in a blur of heat and energy, my nexus unfastened, colliding like a hammer with Bane’s, and he and I both laughed joyously from the thrill of it, from the notion that this had been waiting for us for years. This had been what we were meant to do, to be, from the beginning.

  “I claim you,” he said, but it wasn’t his voice. It sounded foreign, unreal.

  “And I claim you,” I mimicked, not sure why I sounded so sure, so ethereal.

  And then, with Bane holding me tight, with our nexuses melding together, merging, in the red glow of togetherness, the door flew open and I was being dragged away, torn from his arms, the sensation of Bane’s energy, his warmth slipping further and further away from me.

  “No! Don’t take her!”

  “No, son. Don’t fight me.” Carter Grant held Bane back as my father kept a tight arm around my waist. “Lundi, I told you this would happen. You promised. That was the only reason I let him stay in this damn class. You said you could control her pull.”

  “And I will, damn it, Carter. I will.” Then my father was holding me, brushing his fingers over my temple, soothing. “Take the memory, Janiver, mon petit bebe. Take it from him so he will not suffer.”

  Bane’s face was a mixture of shock and despair, and his uncle whispered continuously in his ear, words that sounded old, foreign. It had to be the only thing keeping Bane steady. “It’s for the best, Janiver,” Carter told me. But his smile was really a sneer, and the way he looked at me, looked through me, made my stomach twist.

  “Janiver, please, mon pet. For the good of the Cove. Take his memories.” My father pulled me close, pressed his mouth against my ear so only I could hear him speak. “Stay with him and your life will not be your own.”

  The door crashed open and Bane jerked back, my chest on fire as I blinked, my face wet and hot with tears.

  “Bane! You must come now, son,” Grant said, his face twisted up in a severe frown. He glared at me as he grabbed Bane’s collar. “We’ve discovered the creature. We must go. Now.”

  “Who?” I said, wiping my face dry, but Grant ignored me, pulling Bane away from me toward the door.

  “Bane.” I tried moving after him, but stopped when Papa entered the cabin, holding me back as the wizard paused in the door, his head shaking.

  “Finish the job, Miss Benoit,” Bane told me, not looking directly at me. “The sooner you find the Elam, the soon you can leave. That’s what you’re best at.”

  I had another outside-of-myself moment. I floated above us, looking down as Bane glared, as his gaze finally moved around my features as though he would never see them again. I watched him, watched myself and could nearly make out the thick weight of tension that flitted between us. The heat, the anger, the rage all mixed and pulsed together with the lingering scent of sex and the memory of what we’d done in that room just a short time before. It was an intoxicating brew that made my head feel weighted and my heart heavy. When Bane stepped back, taking his gaze from my features and his warmth from the room, I came back to myself and jumped into that crumbling body as it fell to the floor.

  My insides twisted and despite my anger at him, I let my father hold me. “My girl,” he said, patting my back. “He is hurting, no doubt, and will hurt still more.” I shook my head, looking at Papa’s face, head turned as I tried to catch his meaning. He wiped my wet cheeks with his handkerchief, releasing a long exhale. “It is Malak. He has been turned. Ethan is dead at his hand and he’s responsible for the other deaths as well.”

  Eighteen

  “Breathe, mon petite. You need only to breathe.”

  “How can I? What he did…Malak…”

  My father’s hands were soft, his fingers kneading on my shoulders, kind, and the touch made my limbs tense and my stomach tighten. “Stop…just please, don’t touch me.”

  Blame needed to be assigned. I needed to find a villain that hadn’t been sweet, kind to me when he was a boy running after his cousin, flattering me with obvious grins and wide-eyed stares.

  Malak killed Wyatt.

  He was a monster.

  He decimated Freya.

  My…sweet Freya.

  “Please, Jani…”

  Papa’s voice went soft, the tone placating and light. There were the marks of an incantation in the cadence I recognized and when I jerked away from him, stepping back as we moved further away from the cabin,
he held up his hands, eyes round and shocked.

  “I wasn’t trying to…”

  “You were. Hera save you, Papa…you damn well were.”

  He didn’t bother defending himself as I walked away, marching along the trail, pushing back my shock and the rage that boiled inside me at the news that Malak had been turned. That he had destroyed so many lives with his deception.

  There would be time for vengeance and anger, but it wasn’t now.

  Now I had to find the Elam.

  It began with a melody.

  It was like a song I only half remembered. So clear, so haunting, and all I needed was to float toward it, feel it, touch it, hold that power in the palm of my hands. If I’d only reach the Elam, secure it, then I could be rid of the guilt flooding my mind. Restoring the Cove to the way things were before I came here would make things right. Bane would have his place in the coven leadership and my family would no longer have to struggle against the effect of the lies and damage Ronan had caused.

  So I followed the simple, sweet song that called me forward as Papa and I left the cabin and the night behind us as it led me to the Elam.

  “Something is off here, Jani, can’t you feel it?”

  “No,” I told my father, too distracted by the song, by the pull of that energy as we climbed into the deepest part of the wood. “No, I don’t feel anything but the Elam.”

  Distantly, I knew he was right. There was something off, something that did not fit together as it should. The air was too thin up there on the hill. The maples around us were too still. But I could no more give attention to the things that were not right than I could ignore that song pulling me close.

  “Perhaps we should call…” Whatever my father’s suggestion would be died quickly, silenced by the loud rattle of an explosion and billowing smoke that arose from the town. We couldn’t see anything but the smoke rising, despite Papa dragging me near the ridge to look down into the valley toward the groves. There was nothing but the empty woods and the rustle of branches within them. “Fire?” he asked, already moving down the trail.

  “Dunno. Probably.” My skin was dry, itching as though the Elam knew we were walking away from it and protested by thinning the air even further. “Papa, we’re close.”

  “Wi,” he said, but didn’t look at me, keeping his attention on the empty ridge and the sirens that began to sound. “Probably just…”

  “Go check it if you want. You can get a signal from the cabin. It’s not that far away.”

  “And leave you on your own?”

  “What’s going to hurt me out here? I’m protected by the lines and anyone who wants me needs me so there’s nothing to worry over. You said Malak was sent to kill me. He’s in custody. He’s no threat to me now. Besides, I can take care of myself. Go.” I nodded toward the trail, knowing it wouldn’t take much for my father to quell his curiosity. “I’ll be fine.”

  Papa looked at me for a long time then. It reminded me of the day I arrived home after our mother died. He’d taken me on the trail because I was his daughter. He’d leave because he knew I could handle myself. Still, the frown he gave me was too stiff; the low lidded cast of his eyes was too apologetic. I’d never seen my father looking so ashamed.

  “What?” I asked him, eager to put some distance behind me.

  “Perhaps…” Papa stopped, glancing once more down the trail as he ran his fingers through his hair. “If the higher covens are in need…but I should not leave you…”

  “They come first, Papa… This is your way.” I waved him off, already walking away when he called after me.

  “Mon petit…” But what Papa wanted to say, I never found out. Yet another explosion sounded behind him and he lowered his shoulders, nodding once before he ran down the trail toward the cabin. “I’ll return,” he said over his shoulder, but I knew he wouldn’t. At least, I knew I wouldn’t wait for him.

  I was close to the Elam, and the further into the woods I walked, the louder that sweet song sounded.

  The wood broke up then, just a few feet further and the pulse of the Elam grew even stronger. It was like pure energy, something that tinkled against my skin and made my flesh pimple. Sound went numb, and I could only make out the low hum around me as I walked close toward a small outcropping of trees circling a bare patch of grass, and there, lying in the center, all alone on the ground, was the Elam.

  It pulsed and hummed the closer I walked toward it, singing sweetly, like a lover I’d forgotten I’d had and wanted again. I wanted to touch it, take it, keep it with me always. The stone was a brilliant turquoise shaped like a strong, fine tortoise, and it would fit perfect in the center of my hand. I just knew it would be smooth to the touch, warm as I held my open hand over the top of it. It was mine. Somehow, merely looking at it told me as such. All I had to do was pick it up, grip it once, and claim it. No one else would dare touch it once it was mine. Stretching my fingers towards it, I noticed the fine, small hairs on my arm standing up and a small brush of chill peppering around my wrist. Nearly there, nearly mine.

  But, like most things I wanted, it was out of my reach. Suddenly I was on the ground with some smelly, heavy weight pinning my hands at my side. “Don’t you damn well touch that thing.”

  “Damn, woman, don’t you recognize a thrall when you see it?”

  Until Hamill said it, I actually hadn’t known the thrall for what it was. Feeling stupid, I stepped out of his grip, moving back into the wooded area of the forest and away from the Elam on the ground.

  “That obvious and I missed it.”

  “It happens,” Hamill said, leaning against a tree, winded. Almost perversely, he pulled a crumpled pack from his pocket and withdrew a cigarette; his long fingers were narrow and smudged at the tips, stained with tobacco. “You can’t know what it is when it happens. Not always.” He lit his cigarette, taking a long drag as he watched me. “Why’d you take off?”

  “You threatened me.” When he didn’t react to my accusation, I kept explaining. “I might miss when something is enthralled, but I don’t miss when someone hates me and my family and wants to do us harm.” Feeling a little calmer, somewhat more relaxed, I stood in front of Hamill. “I wasn’t going to stick around and wait for you to attack.”

  Hamill was cool then, smooth, taking his time with his cigarette, inhaling deep and releasing his smoke through his nose as though he needed a second to figure me out. “Don’t recall threatening you.”

  “You said…”

  “What I said was, ‘If I could, I’d rip you all to pieces.’ There’s a difference to what I think should happen and what I’d actually do.”

  “Why?” Hamill didn’t stop smoking, didn’t even pause as I stepped closer. “What did we ever do to you?”

  He took a second to spit on the ground next to my foot and when he spoke, his words were weighted, as though he hadn’t gotten rid of all the phlegm in his throat. “Your father is responsible for my cousin being in jail.” Hamill flicked his spent cigarette on the ground, stomping on it as he walked toward me. “Ronnie’s a good shifter, just ran with the wrong crowd, and when he got pissed drunk and passed out at a fire—stuck in his wolf form—and then woke up to the cops asking questions, well, your father couldn’t get him out of it. That’s what he’s supposed to do, isn’t it? Get us out of tight spots?”

  It was an assumption everyone made. My father’s business was smoothing over messy situations to keep the mortals ignorant. It wasn’t his job to cover up for idiots who couldn’t control themselves. “No, Hamill, that’s not what he does, and if your cousin was too stupid to keep away from mortals when he shifts or when he drinks, then he deserves to be in jail.”

  “Say that again, woman,” Hamill said, darting toward me. There was a wicked shake to his hand and a small, wild glint in his eyes. “I fucking dare you.”

  “Calm yourself,” I started, stretching my fingers in case Hamill came any closer, but before anything could happen, the shifter stiffened, then slumped to
the ground at my feet with Joe Arvel standing over him, the butt of a revolver in his hand.

  “Got tired of waiting.”

  It was a shock to see him, out there with no one around, away from the search parties, away from anyone I trusted. The thought lingered then, a little distant, that I should keep my edge, worry how and why Joe had just knocked Hamill to the ground. Maybe if the Elam’s song hadn’t sounded so sweet, kept me calm, my awareness would have been sharper. Still, I thought fleetingly that it was good to see Joe, he had a kind face, but I felt a strange shiver of alarm when I spotted the smudges and tears on his clothes and the soot and ash covering his knuckles.

  “Joe?” I asked, nodding to his hands. “What happened?”

  “Fire. Big one.” He walked toward me, stepping over Hamill’s inert body. I kept my attention on the gun in his hand. “Had to get your father away from you. Knew he wouldn’t stay here if he thought more of the Cove was going up in flames.”

  “Why…” I walked backward, careful to keep enough distance between us that I’d be able to twist a hex at him if I needed to. “Why did you want Papa gone?”

  The shifter looked genuinely surprised, tilting his head as though he needed a second to make certain I wasn’t teasing him. “I needed you.”

  “Me? Whatever for?”

  “To destroy the Elam.”

  He didn’t wait for me to run off. Joe, in fact, seemed very determined to get on with the task at hand and, despite my fidgeting away from him, was still able to pull me out of the woods to sit near the Elam pulsing on the ground.

  “You’ll want explanations, I suppose.” He sat across from me, leaning his arms on his knees. “That’s alright. I’d want them too.”

  Around us the morning was dying but there was no activity from the animals or birds—not even insects—in this part of the forest. It gave the clearing an eerie, disturbed vibe that unsettled me more that I wanted to admit. “You did this? The spelling? The storm last night?” I waved my hand around the still sky and shook my head when Joe’s smile stretched wide. “You stole the Elam?” He nodded. “You knocked Bane out?”