Soulbound: A Lone Star Witch Novel (29 page)

I press my face against his hard chest and simply breathe him in. He smells like he always does—of clove and lemon balm and rain—and though I’ve spent the last eight years telling myself that I hate him, I want to stay right here forever. I feel safe here, in a way I haven’t felt since the night in the forest all those years ago.

Eventually he pulls away and I have to force myself not to cling to him. “Let’s get you out of here,” he tells me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against his body. “You’re shivering.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a solution for that.” He starts to propel me back the way he came, but at that moment two police cars show up, sirens blaring. He turns in the opposite direction.

I don’t move. I can’t, and probably won’t be able to for hours—not until the morgue finally takes her away. Declan learns this the hard way as I make it to the edge of the fence and not one inch farther. He urges me along and I crumple in on myself, arms wrapped around my midsection as my legs refuse to cooperate any longer.

“What the hell?” Declan mutters, his arm sliding down to my waist to tug me along.

“I can’t go. I have to stay here, until they take her body away.”

“What are you talking about?” He looks incredulous.

“It’s part of the spell. The compulsion doesn’t ease until the woman’s been seen to.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at me. Then he drops his arm from around me, steps back. Immediately I’m bereft—then I’m angry. How can he make me feel like this so easily?

“It’s not a spell and you know it,” he mutters, right before he lifts his arms and calls to the goddess.

“What are you doing?” I hiss at him as I look wildly around. We’re on a public street for goddess’s sake, where anyone can see.

“Getting rid of the compulsion.”

He starts a chant—it’s a simple one that I remember from childhood—but as he speaks, I feel the tangled webs that are wrapped around me start to ease. I relax, breathe a little easier though the pain engendered by the attack makes it difficult to actually enjoy the act of breathing. Still, it’d be nice to get out of here. If Declan can break the spell—I refuse to think of it as anything else—than maybe I can go back to my normal routine. My normal life.

The spell winds down and I feel the pulse of Declan’s magic as it brushes over my skin. It’s as powerful as the compulsion, maybe even more so, but when I try to take that one extra step, everything inside me clamors for me to stop.

“It didn’t work,” I tell him.

He looks almost comically shocked, like he can’t imagine a world where his power doesn’t take over everything. “You still can’t leave?” he finally asks, demanding clarification.

“Nope.”

Down the street, two more cars pull up—they’re familiar to me as I’ve been here, done this before. Sure enough, Nate and his partner pile out and head straight
for the main gate, which Brett has since opened for them. They don’t spot Declan or me halfway down the block, lurking in the shadows, which is exactly how I want it.

I’m not sure how long it will last, but I’m going to go with it as long as I can. Besides, we’re in the middle of downtown at the beginning of one of the busiest nights of the year. People are already starting to gather on the sidewalk as they try to see what’s going on. With any luck, I’ll be able to just stand here, unobserved, until the coroner takes her body away.

Declan pulls me deeper into the shadows and now that the adrenaline has worn off, it hurts to have his arm wrapped around my waist. He must have found a particularly bad bruise to rest against.

For a moment, her naked body flashes across my mind and I experience—again—what she did in those final moments. It’s too much. I can’t stand the oily feel of him against me, inside me. I punch out with a blast of power that blocks the sensory details. The images are still there, but this time I can’t feel them. I don’t know how I did it or where the magic came from, and to be honest, I don’t care. All that matters is, for the moment, I’m free from what that monster wants to do to me.

Declan turns to look at me sharply—almost like he felt the surge of power I used—but before he can say anything, my phone starts ringing. I fumble it out of my pocket, check the number carefully. The last thing I want to do is stand here and listen to him gloat over his latest handiwork.

But it’s just Donovan, and he is pissed. “Where the hell are you?” he demands the second I answer the phone.

“In front of the Capitol.”

“Bullshit, because that’s where I am and I don’t see you at all.”

“I’m down the street some, in the shadows.”

“Okay, I’m coming. Don’t move.”

I bristle a little at the tone in his voice, like I’m some recalcitrant child who wandered away the second his back was turned. He’s the one who left me and it’s not exactly like I enjoy my little forays around the city after dark.

I see him emerge from the crowd down the block, cell phone to his ear, as he reads me the riot act. “What the hell are you doing out here, anyway? I told you to stay put.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” I bite off the words, as annoyed now as he is.

“Where are you?” he asks again, though he’s striding straight toward us.

“I’m right in front of you.”

Declan murmurs something I can’t hear, then steps out of the shadows. I go to follow him, but find I can’t move. That’s when I realize he’s done something to hide us from police eyes. I’m grateful—I really don’t want to explain this to Nate—but at the same time I’m livid that he’s so easily holding me in place. Like there isn’t enough of that going around right now?

Donovan spots him and jogs over at the same time I shove Declan in the back. He doesn’t even stumble, though he does cast me an amused look over his shoulder. The bastard.

“What the hell are you doing here, Chumomisto?” Donovan is decidedly hostile as he takes up a position to the right of me.

“Watching out for Xandra.” The answer is mild, but the implications aren’t—and Donovan’s eyes narrow at the veiled accusation.

“Well, I’m here now. She doesn’t need you.”

Except I do. I can practically taste the killer’s malicious intentions in the air all around me. Down by the lake, they hammered me, even while I waited in Nate’s
car. Here, it was the same—at least until Declan showed up. Oh, he isn’t stopping everything—he can’t touch the compulsion or those flashes of memory that I have—but he is stopping the endless waves of misery and sadness that battered me the other night. Right now, it’s enough.

“I think that’s up to her, isn’t it?” Declan raises a brow.

“Stop it,” I snarl at them. “I’m fine. I was fine before you got here and I’ll be fine if both of you leave—so stop with the cavemen routines.” I turn to Donovan. “How did the meeting with the Council go?”

“You went to the ACW with this?” Declan demands.

Donovan bristles. “Damn right I did. There’s a dark warlock killing women and putting my sister right in the middle of it. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t demand that she go to the Council last night, after she nearly burned to death?” His eyes narrow dangerously. “Unless you’re somehow involved in this?”

“Trust a prince to see everything in black and white.” When Declan sneers it, neither the word prince nor the term black and white sound like a compliment. “The Council is dangerous and I don’t want them anywhere near your sister.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t get to make that decision, do you?” Donovan’s hand clamps around my upper arm and I gasp from the pain. It’s not his fault—he doesn’t realize that he’s squeezing one of the worst of my bruises.

But Declan doesn’t wait for an explanation. He shoves me behind him even as he rips Donovan’s hand off my arm. “Don’t touch her.”

“She’s my sister.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t the Middle Ages and that doesn’t mean much these day, does it?” He deliberately uses Donovan’s phrasing and I can see it pisses off my brother enough that I’m afraid he’ll take a swing at Declan. Or worse, pull out some magic that can’t be undone.

“That’s it!” I hiss at them in a furious overtone. “Declan might be concealing us, but that doesn’t mean either one of you gets to act like a moron.” I turn to Declan. “Whether or not my brother chooses to go to the ACW is none of your business.”

“You’d be surprised what’s my business when it comes to you.” He smirks at me, like I’m amusing him, and suddenly I realize why my brother wanted to punch him. It’s a hard look to walk away from.

“And you.” I turn to Donovan with a scowl. “Stop antagonizing him. You’re just making this whole thing worse for me.” I deliberately inject some of the shakiness I’m feeling into my voice and Donovan immediately melts.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I went nuts when I got back to Beanz and couldn’t find you.” This time when he reaches for me, I let him hug me.

“Now that that’s settled, why don’t you enlighten us?” Declan drawls. “What did the wise and wonderful ACW decide in terms of our…situation?”

“They’re going to look into it,” Donovan tells him between clenched teeth. “There are only about twenty warlocks in the world capable of doing everything this one has done, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find them.” His eyes narrow. “I find it interesting that both yours and your brother’s names are on that list.”

“Along with eighteen others,” Declan drawls.

“Yeah, but none of them are in Austin.”

“One of them is.” He gestures to where the CSI team has begun photographing the body and looking for evidence. “Or we wouldn’t be here.”

Just then, a black Mercedes roars around the corner and slams to a stop in front of us. Which makes me wonder how the driver can see us. Donovan tenses beside me, but Declan just sighs irritably. All of which makes sense when the passenger window rolls down and Ryder is there, leaning across the passenger seat.

“Come on, man,” he tells Declan. “The show starts in ten minutes. We need to go.”

I’d forgotten all about Declan’s show. “Go!” I tell him, shoving him toward the car.

He doesn’t move. “They can wait.”

“They waited thirty minutes for you yesterday! Which is understandable,” Ryder quickly backtracks when both Declan and my brother narrow their eyes. “It’s not like we want Xandra to burn to death.” He shoots me a grin I can’t help but return—Ryder’s amusement is too infectious to ignore. He’s so much lighter than Declan that I’ve often wondered why he chose to become a warlock instead of a wizard. Following in his big brother’s footsteps? If so, I can understand the appeal.

“But she’s fine now. Right, Xandra?” He shoots me a questioning look.

Fine is a bit of an overstatement, but I’m not about to set Declan or Donovan off. “I’m good,” I say, reaching over and squeezing Declan’s hand. “Go do your show.”

“Yeah,” Ryder agrees. “Come do your show. I’m sure Donovan’s got everything under control. And I have people from the event promoter’s office crawling all over my ass after last night. I’d appreciate it if you would get in this car so I can shake them off.”

“Do I look like I give a shit about the event promoter?” Declan asks. “I’m not leaving Xandra alone.”

“I’m not alone. Donovan’s here. And he’s not going anywhere, right?”

There’s a strange look in Donovan’s eyes as he watches Declan, like he’s seeing something he doesn’t expect. “I’ve got her,” he finally says. “No one will get near her.”

“Including those assholes from the ACW,” Declan growls.

Donovan looks set to argue, but I step on his foot. There’s no way Declan’s leaving unless he agrees, and I think we’re all smart enough to know that.

“Fine, no Council. But you’d better have a damn good explanation for this.”

“I do.” He turns to me, grabs my hand in his own cold one. I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Declan affected by the weather. Even last night, when I was freezing, he was perfectly warm.

He leans forward, brushes his lips over my cheek in a soft caress that makes my stomach jump, even as he coasts up to my ear and murmurs, “Don’t trust anyone but your brother. Do you understand?”

I don’t, no. But again I’m smart enough not to say it. Instead, I just nod.

“I’ll see you soon.” He kisses my cheek again and then he’s gone, sliding into the sleek, black car and speeding into the night.

Donovan and I watch him go and then my brother turns around and demands, “What the fuck is going on between you and Declan Chumomisto?”

If he’d asked me yesterday, I would have said that nothing was going on. That I despised Declan. Now, however, I don’t have a clue what to say. Am I wary of Declan? Absolutely. Do I trust him not to leave me high and dry again? Not in the slightest. But now there’s a different question, one I can’t help asking myself. Do I trust him to help me through this? To keep me safe from a force I have yet to begin to understand? The answer, unbelievable though it is, is yes.

But I can’t tell Donovan that, at least not without my brother flipping out completely. So I just shrug and say, “I have no idea.” It’s the truth, after all.

I
t’s nearly two o’clock in the morning when the medical examiner’s van slowly pulls away with the girl’s body. Just like that, the compulsion lifts and I’m finally able to go home. Thank goddess. There’s nothing quite like celebrating New Year’s Eve standing outside a murder scene, praying that you aren’t spotted. I can only hope this isn’t a portent of things to come in the new year.

Donovan stays with me the entire time, and he doesn’t say another word to me about leaving the safety of Beanz. I guess he’s figured out just how real this compulsion is, and that I can’t fight it—even when I’m desperate to.

Once we get home, I kiss Donovan on the cheek and send him to the guest room to sleep. Neither of us have had dinner, but we’re both too soul-weary to eat, though I offer to make something for my brother. He just pats my head and goes down the hall to his room. He’s got his cell phone in his hand and I know he wants to call his fiancée. Just one more thing I feel guilty about.

Lily’s asleep on the couch, television on and a text on Hekan history dangling from her fingertips. I turn off the TV and cover her with a blanket before picking up the text with the intention of marking her spot. As I do, a little sizzle zings along my fingertips and I glance at the page, just to see what’s up. The term “soulbound” jumps out at me. Lily has underlined it twice and written
“curse?” in the margin of the book. Despite my exhaustive training when I was young, soulbound isn’t a term I’ve ever heard of. I skim the page, looking for a definition, but it’s only mentioned that once, a passing reference in a chapter devoted to an ancient priestess of Isis and her mystical lover.