Bound by Magick 4-in-1 Box Set (Pentacles of Magick) (8 page)

“But—”

“I don't think so.” Graelen jerked her into his arms,
pressing her soft body against his hard frame. His lips captured her mouth with
an unexpected urgency, forcing his tongue between her parted lips.

Unable to wait another minute, his hands deftly began
removing her clothes so he could get to her skin. His hands caressed her soft,
curving flesh until he reached a tightly beaded nipple. She arched her back
into his hands while his mouth sought that heated tip. Nipping with his teeth,
he increased the pressure until she writhed in his arms, her little whimpers of
pleasure soothing his soul.

“Please stay, Rena.”

Her body stilled at the seriousness of his words. His
erection strained for release but he would deny himself the freedom of burying
his cock in her body until she agreed to stay.

“For how long?” She had no idea how sensuous her voice
sounded when she asked him that question. It was like a cool drink flowing over
a parched throat.

“Forever.”

The prolonged anticipation of her answer grew unbearable.
This was one time she held all the control. He couldn't force her submission.
Although for her own safety he was prepared to hold her there against her will.

“For now, Graelen, for now.

Epilogue

The Reverend paced the perimeter of his compound. His anger
bubbled close to the surface, and in an attempt to control his urges he walked.
Movement would help clear his mind and heart. The use of his magick left him
cold and dark for days. He abhorred the necessity of it. He frequently didn't
remember what had been done while he was under the influence. It was a
by-product of touching the dark magick of those boys. If not for their evil he
would never have to suffer.

For years he'd searched through the history of their family
records, seeking a way to bind them. But so far, nothing. It seemed an
impossible feat, until now.

Every instinct he had screamed Tarot. The answer was in
those fucking cards. It was just a matter of time before he figured it out.
When his sources informed him that the historian he'd hired to dissect the
family Tarot had traveled to New England, he'd followed her to learn what she
was up to. He now waited her out on his own family estate.

Unfortunately some of his employees had gotten carried away
and forced him to reveal his presence. Why had his nephew protected the woman?
What did she have or represent that would feed his darkness? He'd meditated on
those thoughts for days, seeking answers.

The extra power his nephew had used from his brother pushed
Scott to pain. To protect himself from death, he'd broken the spell with
nowhere for the darkness to go but back inside himself. The resulting suffering
and madness he'd been forced to endure for twenty-four hours had come close to
killing him.

Waking up with dust and grit in his mouth, he'd found
himself on the dirt floor of his cellar with no idea how he'd gotten there or
how long he'd been out. The last thing he remembered was his nephew taking the
woman.

The dark aura swirled inside him, churning his anger and
hatred throughout his system. His throat ached and burned from his thirst.
Rolling onto his back, he stretched his stiffened limbs. Thank God his
instincts brought him home at times like this. Those boys did this to him and
would continue to do so if he didn't find a way to soon end this. It was up to
him to break this evil curse contained in the four men. One by one, Graelen,
Cash, Dennison, and Noah had to be extinguished.

For centuries his family had been tainted by an evil that
needed to be destroyed, but by its very nature protected those who harbored it.

He was close this time. His instincts cried with the
knowledge. He'd found a strong coven that could help.

“Excuse me, Reverend.” His lieutenant's voice pulled him
from his thoughts and plans. He turned back to glare at the man for intruding.

“Not a good idea to interrupt me right now, Giles.”

“I'm sorry, sir. I wouldn't under normal circumstances.
I—”

“What is it?” He cut off the man from what would no doubt
become a drivel of ass kissing if allowed to continue.

“She has arrived. Ms. Gallagher is waiting for you in your
office.”

“Ah. That I will allow this time. But be warned that next
time you may not be so lucky. You might want to think twice or even thrice
before interrupting again. It could be painful for you.”

“Yes, sir.” He slunk back, easing his way in the general
direction of the house.

So the historian had returned, no doubt to discuss her
findings. He couldn't wait to hear what she had to offer up with regards to his
two nephews, Graelen and Cash. The elder twins. Cash was a headstrong
troublemaker already well on his path of destruction. It wouldn't be long
before he turned. After connecting briefly with his brother, he'd disappeared.
None of Scott's considerable resources had been able to turn up his whereabouts
or even a whisper of what he was up to. It was troublesome to say the least.

Graelen, on the other hand, had holed up with Ms. Gallagher
on his estate. No one in or out until now.

Entering the room noiselessly, he took a moment to take in
her appearance. Her pretty long hair was pulled into a simple ponytail, the
ends just brushing her shoulders. She was dressed in a conservative white
blouse and long denim skirt that fell to her slim ankles. Even her shoes were
plain brown loafers. If Scott hadn't recognized the intelligence in her eyes at
their first meeting he would have dismissed her outright.

“Ms. Gallagher.” He paused to observe her further as she
turned toward him. Her petite features were partially hidden behind her
glasses. You could tell a lot about a person by the way they dressed. And right
now Rena appeared nervous. “It's nice to see you again. I really appreciate you
coming all the way out here to give me an update.” He shook her hand and was
again pleasantly surprised by her firm, confidant touch.

“No problem, Reverend. I'm sure you must be anxious to see
what I’ve found.” Her reply lacked a ring of conviction.

“Indeed.”

“Although I'm not sure you’ll be happy with my findings.” He
arched his brow at that statement. “Well, first off, I have discovered that
these cards are directly tied to the Scott family. As in Graelen Scott.” She
hesitated.

“Yes, I know who he is.”

“Upon learning that these cards depicted the Scott family
history, I opted to go there and discuss these with Mr. Scott and see what
information he could offer. Imagine, if you will, my surprise when Mr. Scott informed
me that these cards were stolen from his family last year.” Her comment
contained a strong suggestion of distaste.

“And you're wondering if I knew that too?”

“Yes.”

He admired her simple, straightforward approach, even as he
realized she would no longer be useful to his quest.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters. My work was everything to me and you
ridiculed that by bringing me unknowingly into your scheme.” Her tone chilled.
“This scheme you have against your nephews is wrong. I can prove it in time.”

Scott ground his teeth and locked his jaw to control the
anger. He absolutely would not tolerate her knowing about his familial ties.
“You really have no idea what you're talking about, Ms. Gallagher.” His voice
hardened. “You should have stayed in your museum like you were supposed to. Now
things are complicated.”

Something in his demeanor or voice must have frightened her.
She started taking steps backwards. Stupid move. His magick came up. Killing
her would definitely be an inconvenience, albeit necessary. Motivated by her
fear, his energy built. He took a few steps forward and stopped cold. His
nephew Graelen stood in the doorway.

“Don't even think about it, Uncle. She is protected. Trust
me, you won't like what happens the next time you try to hurt her.”

“How the hell did you get in here? Evil such as yourself
shouldn't be able to cross the wards of my threshold.”

Graelen laughed. “What? You're not happy to see me? Maybe
you should rethink your definition of evil once and for all before someone else
gets hurt. I'm only here for one thing, and then I will go. I've come for my
brother. Where is Cash?”

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about,” he
countered icily. “I haven't seen your good for nothing twin in years and that's
too soon for me.”

“Two weeks ago he left with plans to visit you, Uncle. He
hasn't been heard from since.”

“And you think that has something to do with me?” He watched
as Graelen's eyes blackened as dark as midnight. Energy crackled the room from
them both.

“Stop it, both of you, before someone gets hurt. This is
about Cash.” She stepped in between the two of them.

“Get out of my house now.” Despite his strong magick, he
knew his nephew to be the stronger witch. Now was not the time for
confrontation. He was a patient man and he had some new information to think
about now.

“Let's go, Graelen. Cash isn't here. I can't feel even a
trace of him.”

The Reverend caught the look that passed between them,
telling him what he needed to know. He watched them go as he reviewed what had
transpired. There was a bond between the two of them. She was of the prophecy
and he'd led her straight to them.

Interesting…

Now, Cash was missing and somehow played an important role
in this puzzle. This called for drastic measures. He needed to find Cash before
they did, and he knew just the woman for the job.

To be continued…

Magick Ignited

Book two of the Pentacles of Magick series

a novella of erotic romance by

ELIZA GAYLE

Prologue

Wild grief tore at Cash as he drove away from his family
home. Once again a tiresome prophecy and his vindictive uncle had driven him
from the only place he cared about. As his motorcycle ate up the miles in front
of him, the hollow place inside his soul widened as he left his twin and the
woman Grae claimed as his empathic mate behind.

For his brother's sake, Cash hoped Grae was right. If she
could balance Grae's magick then he could avoid their fate. As for his own
fate, well, he had made his own choices and pushed his dark magick at every
opportunity he could. Using had been his comfort and best friend for too long
now—he couldn't turn back, couldn't stop using.

But he could confront the bastard that refused to give up.
Find a way to stop him before one of his brothers got killed, or worse, used
their black magick against him. No, Reverend Scott Cunningham had to be stopped
before something really bad happened.

Cash nearly choked on the Reverend part of that. His uncle
had managed to dupe thousands of people into joining his crusade all while he
conspired against his own family. It seemed the closer to the edge he and his
brothers got, the worse Scott became. The latest strike against Grae and Rena
had turned deadly, leaving Cash to believe it was only a matter of time before
someone else died.

Now he had to decide what would be the best approach to fix
the issue. It would take a few days of riding to get there, so he had time to
come up with a plan. Despite what most people thought of him, he wasn't nearly
as rash and unpredictable as they said. He laughed.
They
was just another word for his nosy, interfering brothers.

His mind wandered back to Rena Gallagher and her theory of
balance. She'd been hired by their uncle to study the family Tarot. According
to her research, the Ten of Pentacles had clues depicted that meant more than
what the prophecy actually foretold. The symbol they'd believed to represent
the four brothers actually represented four women. Empaths. A woman meant for
each of them.

Despite his behavior with Grae and Rena, there'd been a
kernel of hope that had sneaked under the thick layer of rage he used to
protect himself. The ceremonial joining with his brother, Grae had pushed their
magick and experiences together, allowing him a glimpse into the power dynamic
that flowed between he and his empath. Proving that, at least for his twin, it
did seem possible, and his new mate could actually absorb the damage left
behind every time Grae was forced to call upon the much stronger but far more
dangerous, dark magick. That was all well and good for his twin. He however,
had gone too far, more than his brothers knew. The likelihood of him overcoming
his addiction to the dark had dissipated long ago. But if there was still a
chance for his other brothers, Denn and Noah, he’d take it. No risk too great
for family. If it was true…

Cash found it hard to believe that, after all these years, a
new piece of the prophecy had been found. Was there a reason they'd only
learned part of it? How had it gotten lost, and why did it take all these years
to solve it? Had no one in the family known? Or had his uncle known all along
and had only needed someone to solve the riddle of the Tarot?

These unanswered questions had him pulling his bike in a
sharp swerve across two lanes to reach the shoulder of the road. With his pulse
racing and his blood pumping hard it was difficult to concentrate.

“That's it. Someone does know. That son of a bitch. I'd bet
money that dear Uncle Scott knows a whole hell of a lot more than he ever let
on.”

Chapter
One

Selene raced down the highway, pushing her motorcycle to its
screaming limits. The wind bit at her around the full-face helmet she wore. Her
Busa roared underneath her, vibrating against her legs and arousing her like a
good man could. She needed this—the cool air, the rush of speed, and the
open road. Staying in one place too long was always a bad idea.

With the open road came the freedom she craved, allowing her
to leave all her troubles behind. At least, until they caught up with her
again. No matter how hard she ran it would only be a matter of time before her
past snared her once again.

Without warning a dark, powerful force slammed into her,
taking her breath away. With its intensity her bike wavered, losing control.
She white-knuckled the handgrips, forcing the bike to her own will to save
herself from a high-speed crash. Her foot slid on the peg before her boots dug
in, saving her from losing traction. Her limbs started to heat, an instinctive
reaction, even giving off a slight glow.

What the fuck?

Using every ounce of strength she possessed, she fought to
keep the bike upright as it leaned closer to the ground. The rough asphalt
loomed in her vision. The muscles in her arms and shoulders stretched and
burned with the extra effort. Damn, this is going to hurt.

As her body inched closer to the highway she felt the loose
rocks bouncing against her helmet. She couldn't stop it now, the bike was
sliding to the ground in an irreversible slow motion as she continued to race
down the highway.

A flash of light to her left side startled her as she bumped
against a soft but invisible barrier, which stopped her fall. Someone—or
something—was holding her up from the pavement.

“Take my hand.”

The command startled her as she turned her head away from
the pavement and saw a hand reaching out to her through something, a bubble of
sorts, that surrounded his arm with a crackle of blue energy. Unable to stop
and think about what the hell was going on around her, other than she was about
to become a lump of road rash, she grasped the offered hand. More than
anything, she didn't want to eat pavement tonight.

When her hand connected with his skin, the darkness she'd
felt slammed into her, stronger than before, consuming her. She looked past the
hand pulling her up into the most intense brown eyes she'd ever seen. No, not
brown, a dark amber. Mesmerized, she held his gaze as her body heated in
defense pushing back against the darkness threatening her.

As he pulled her and the bike upright again, their forward
motion on their bikes helped them come sliding to a stop. She let go of his
hand and tumbled to the ground, rolling away in time before her bike fell on
top of her.

The heat built in her fast, whipping up and out of control
as she fought to rein it in. Her head buzzed with the overload of energy. It
was too late. She jerked her helmet off, struggling for deep, cleansing
breaths. Control. Have to stop it. Flames erupted from the ground around her,
circling her.

“What the hell?” The stranger ripped off his own helmet,
revealing dark, wavy hair that curled around his head at the edges. His face
looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days, and when he turned his killer eyes
back towards her she felt the full effect of his good looks. He was devastating
in that dark bad boy way she managed to fall for every damn time. But this time
dark took on a whole new meaning as the flames leapt higher and he rushed
forward to pull her free.

“Stop!” She motioned for him to stay away. “Give me a few
minutes and I’ll get this shit under control.” She closed her eyes, not
doubting that he would listen to her. As the darkness crept through her system
she fought the pain and anger that came with it. The rage transferring from him
to her stormed inside her. Pooling all her energy against the darkness, she
pushed it up and out, directing it away from them.

“Holy fuck! Not my bike!” She opened her eyes to see his
Harley on fire across the clearing from them. She watched in horror as he ran
to it, and the bike exploded before them, knocking them both on their asses.

Her skin instantly began to cool as all the emotions behind
the episode were directed outward. She hadn't intended to blow up his damn
bike, but at least hers had not been close and they wouldn't be stranded
here—together. For some reason that one word had her whole body tingling.
Something about him compelled her.
Crazy,
that's what that is.

She scrambled off the ground with a quick glance around to
ensure all the flames had extinguished, and ran over to the sexy stranger. “Are
you okay?”

He lay there on the ground staring into the night sky
scrubbing his hands over his face. “That was a vintage bike, you know.”

“Yeah, I do know.” She watched his bike burn, wondering what
the hell had just happened. How had she lost control of her power? That hadn't
happened since she was an angry teenager. Suspicion curled in her mind,
threading through her and filling her with doubt. “Who are you? And why the
hell were you so pissed when you touched me?”

“Who am I? Are you freaking kidding me? Who the hell are
you? And what just happened here?” He sat up, motioning to his now charred and
smoking bike.

“The name is Selene, and I'm sorry about your bike. I’d buy
you a new one if I could.”

He stood, unfolding his tall muscular body, at least, from
what she could tell under the leather he wore. The dark look he threw her sent
a tiny shiver down her spine.

“Well, Selene, I don't think that'll be necessary, but you
can, however, start with an explanation of what happened.” He watched and
waited as she thought about how to explain it. Not many believed the truth so
she often lied.

“Pretty simple, really. I rode a little too fast, lost
control, and you came along and saved me from becoming roadkill.” She doubted
he would understand that a force of dark power slammed into her and nearly
incapacitated her. Unless, of course, he was the one responsible. He had to be.
The source had radiated from him in an angry wave.

“That simple, huh? His voice vibrated in anger as he waited
for the rest of the story. But he would be waiting till hell froze over before
she told her secrets to a stranger who obviously had some pretty big secrets
himself. ”No explanation for the fire that surrounded you or the fact that my
bike just got blown to bits?"

She bristled at his tone. Damn smartass.

“What about you? How did you stop my fall and then pull me
and my bike back up, all at a high speed?” She looked him straight in the eye.
“Don't get me wrong. I'm extremely grateful, but I can't even begin to
understand what happened out there.” Well, that wasn't exactly true. At the
institute she had seen some pretty freaky shit. Nothing surprised her these
days.

He stared at her for several long moments as they squared
off with each other like two rivals over the same prize.

“Well, Selene, it seems we have a bit of a standoff here.
How about a truce for now? You keep your secrets and I’ll keep mine.” His deep
throaty voice rolled over her like smooth brandy on a cold night. He held out
his hand in offering. Afraid to touch him again, she strode over to her bike
and picked it up.

“I'll take that truce—I don't even know your name.”

“Cash.”

“Well, Cash, it looks like I owe you a ride. We aren't that
far from Boston, why don't we hit it together on my bike? The least I can do is
get you someplace that can provide you with a new ride.” Although the thought
of him leaning against her on the bike frightened as well as excited her, she
really had no other option here. He'd saved her and she wasn't about to leave
him stranded here. And if he was someone after her, what better way to keep an eye
on him? After all, this wasn't the first time she'd run from her prison and she
wouldn't put it past them to get creative with her recapture or death this
time.

She’d been repeatedly warned that one more escape would be
her last. Her usefulness to them had officially come to an end. Selene shook
the recent past from her brain. It was past time to focus on the
future—her future.

Now if she could just get the tingling in her body to stop
every time she imagined this new stranger touching her…

 
“I'll drive.”
He held out his hand, waiting for the keys and the smart ass comment he was
sure would follow. This one had quite an attitude to go along with that chip on
her shoulder. That wasn't a problem for him, though. He could totally identify.
One black sheep could easily identify another.

“Are you high? Do I look like the kind of person who would
allow another to drive her bike? Uh uh. No way. Not gonna happen.”

“I'm sorry, but were you not just about to become roadkill
out there before I managed to stop it? Now you think I should let you drive
me
? Where's the logic in that?”

Lifting her foot to mount the bike, she paused but didn't
turn. A sudden blast of heat rushed him, hot but not enough to burn. He'd let
her play for now. But if she kept this up he'd be more than happy to teach the
little firestarter a lesson. He'd never actually met one of her kind before, so
he would be careful not to underestimate her power, but he doubted she could
overcome his magick if need be. When it came to fire, his little brother Noah
had taught him a trick or two.

Still, caution seemed warranted under the circumstances.
She'd lost control of her power after the crash, and if they weren't careful
someone could get seriously hurt. For now it was up to him to maintain that
control, which meant driving.

Calling for a wisp of his own power, he pushed back in her
direction a cold blast of air to cool her down.

She turned to face him. “How did you do that?” Looking into
her cool blue eyes, he noticed genuine curiosity.

“Do what?” His lips twitched, holding back a smile. She
glared back at him.

“Fine. Don't tell me. But hear this: you will
not
be driving my bike. Call me
obsessive, whatever, but no one's hands other than my own touch those
handlebars. If you have a problem with that, then you can stay here and wait.
I'll send someone out for you as soon as I reach Boston. That should only be
about a four-to-six hour wait. Your choice.”

A smile breached his face as she ended her tirade. Annoyance
with him clearly whipped up a strong response. He'd love to test all that
passion she exuded in his bed, and wrap his hands in the fiery hair of hers,
tugging her head back to expose her throat to his mouth.

He imagined kissing a trail along the neck to the curve of
her shoulder before traveling down her torso to the lush curve of breasts that
already made his mouth water. With all her heat he'd bet she would have a spicy
flavor. Like chocolate with a cayenne pepper kick blended in. One that would
burn him alive and make him crave more. His cock twitched in his leathers with
a fierce longing to sample her wet heat. He hadn't even touched her and already
he was burning up. He dug deep for a shred of control. This wasn't the time or
place for thoughts like these.

He had a mission to carry out, and taking time away from
that for sex, even if he would lay odds it would be one of the best experiences
of his life, seemed wrong. Not that he wasn’t about breaking every rule he
could given half a chance. No, he had to do the right thing, which right now
meant getting to Boston and procuring some new wheels. He grimaced. He was sure
Grae would give him hell over losing his bike. Even more so if he knew it was
because of a woman. He had a knack for finding the trouble in women.

Although at this point, his twin didn't have much room to
talk about things happening because of a woman. He'd gone and fallen in love
with the woman their uncle had hired to hurt them. Granted, she didn't know why
she'd been hired, but still… He shook his head, not wanting to think about Grae
and Rena right now. Their theories of balance still sounded too good to be true
and even more impossible for him. He knew without a doubt that he’d already
gone too far, used too much magick. He might not be able to save himself from a
certain to be short life, but he could help with the asshole they were forced
to claim as uncle. The bastard had tortured him and his three brothers every
chance he got and even now seemed hell bent on destroying them one way or
another.

As he watched Selene's leg slide across the set he marveled
how her body curved and molded perfectly to the seat. She looked briefly at
him, long enough for that shock of heat to flare between them. This time she
didn't push it at him, instead it wove them together. She broke the eye contact
quickly, but the damage had been done or more like the heat had flared.

She slid forward on the seat, making a little more room for
him on the bike. She turned the key and flicked the switch, the engine roaring
to life beneath her. It was a powerful bike, one not many women rode, but it
suited her perfectly. Strong, sassy, with attitude to spare. Nothing like
getting a nut over a Busa babe. She looked like trouble and he had enough of
that on his own.

What the hell am I getting myself into?

Kicking his own leg across the bike, he slid into place
behind her, his semi hard cock nestling between the cheeks of her ass. He
groaned inwardly, knowing this ride would kill him. That little bit of contact
between them through clothes and all stirred something deep within him. His
magick moved.

Well, hell, that was
new.

His body tightened when she turned to give him one last
glance before putting on her helmet. That knowing look in her eyes made him
want to pull her whole body back against his, skin to skin, to explore, to
tempt and taste her…