Demon's Triad (16 page)

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Authors: Anna J. Evans,December Quinn

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #Romance, #Fantasy

BOOK: Demon's Triad
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“No, you would never willingly aid that kind of black power. That’s why you did what you did in the woods. You were trying to free the spell from your body with sexual release. It’s more Amiantos magic than Gunera, but that’s the instinct you were choosing.”

“Right,” Aleeza said with a bitter laugh, wanting to believe him but no longer sure who she could trust. If one of her own coven, her family, had become a cold-blooded killer, and she’d had no clue, her instincts were complete shit.

“I am right, and I could teach you how to work that magic more effectively. You might even be able to ground your own power in time.”

“Thanks for the offer. Maybe after I figure out which of my coven members is killing your people, we’ll talk.” Aleeza finally succeeded in pulling away from him and leapt out of the car before he could reach for her again. His touch soothed her, but she didn’t want to be soothed right now. She didn’t deserve any peace of mind.

“I told you, it might not be your coven.” Dorand slammed the passenger door behind him and easily caught up with her as she set a swift pace down the street. It was nearly sunset and the air had grown much colder, cutting through her thin shirt and making her shiver. “A few years ago, Ferrin, Carantha and I were hired to raise a spirit that was causing trouble near the docks. We succeeded in raising a Pandorian man, but we couldn’t make him speak.”

“The spirit was too ancient?”

“That’s what we thought at first, but he was dressed in jeans, and his hair was cut in a style that Carantha said looked straight out of the 1970s.” Dorand’s voice caught slightly as he said Carantha’s name, but Aleeza tried not to notice. Criminals, magic, and violence were things she dealt with every day, but she had no experience with comforting the grieving. Gunera were experts at pretending grief didn’t exist.

Instead, she focused on the story he was telling.

“A modern Pandorian? That’s not possible, is it?”

“His magic was clearly Pandorian, and he even had part of the coven tattoo on his chest, the part that wasn’t shot up with bullet holes.”

“So he was a murder victim. That’s why you couldn’t get him to speak.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It was a strange case.” Dorand slowed his pace and put a hand at her waist, pulling her closer to his side. “Wait. There’s something wrong here. Your building—”

“Someone’s been working black magic. I felt it last night for the first time.

The…piece of your magic left inside me started to glow, and it burned when I tried to walk up the steps.” Aleeza moved closer to Dorand’s side, melting into him, letting herself enjoy the feel of his strong hand squeezing into her hip.

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“We call it a remnant. It’s not a permanent exchange, fades after a day or two.”

“So that’s why it’s not glowing now?” Aleeza asked, instead of the hundred other questions his statement brought to mind. Did that mean what she felt for him was real?

It wasn’t some leftover from his magic, the magic he shared with his dead lover, moving within her?

Dorand nodded as his eyes drifted from the steps up the length of the five-story building. “It’s an old spell, but it’s been active within the past week. How long have you lived here?”

“Since I moved out of my mom’s house when I was seventeen.”

“It’s not that old…maybe a year, maybe two. I’m going to have to go inside to know for sure.”

“Okay.” Aleeza started up the stairs, but Dorand pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing so her breasts pressed into his chest. “What are you—”

“You can’t go with me. If that spell has been working on you, you’ll be vulnerable.

Stay outside and wait for me or go back to the car if you get cold.” Then Dorand whispered a few words too softly for her to hear before he dropped his lips to hers. She parted for him immediately, melting into the feel of his tongue sweeping through her mouth with tender strokes that made every inch of her, inside and out, ache to be closer to the man. Whatever fears lurked in her mind seemed to disappear when he touched her, kissed her, like this. It felt much better than she wanted it to.

“What was that?” she asked, when he finally pulled away.

“A spell of protection, I don’t want you getting hurt while we’re separated.”

“Does all Amiantos magic involve sex in some way?”

“No, the kiss was completely optional.” He grinned, a sexy smile that would have been equally at home on Ferrin’s face, and released her, heading up the steps to her apartment with her keys in his hand.

“I can protect myself, Dorand.”

“I know you can, but now I’ll worry less while I’m inside.”

Worried about her, the man was worried. That meant he cared, didn’t it?

Aleeza’s heart did a strange, aching little flip as she watched the door swing closed behind him, and then she turned and ran back toward her car. She wasn’t cold, but she needed to move, needed to run until she was out of breath, until she forgot how wonderful it had felt for a moment to imagine herself as a person Dorand would truly care for.

* * * * *

Ferrin pulled the navy blue sedan into a red zone across from Aleeza’s building.

The message on his machine had been brief, but when Dorand said he was going into town with Aleeza, Ferrin had assumed they would be heading to her place.

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He’d been right.

Your brother, your clan mate, so eager to get the woman alone that he’s taken her off
Amiantos lands. He won’t rest until she’s bound to him, and then what will become of you,
what—

Ferrin shook off the voice and muttered the liberation incantation for the tenth time in less than a few hours. Something was wrong—there was no doubt about it—and a part of him ached to go to Dorand, to tell him about the black power and seek his aid.

The other part of him, a part that had nothing to do with the wicked voice in his head, was too angry with his brother to ask for help.

He’d gone inside alone, it was true, but not before he’d kissed Aleeza like she was the last breath of air left in the world. Dorand didn’t kiss anyone that way. He was falling for her, hard and fast, and if Ferrin knew his brother, it would be forever. They’d both loved Carantha, but neither had ever given her his whole self. It wasn’t the nature of their threesome for any of them to lose their heart so completely, but Ferrin had always suspected that was how it would have been between Carantha and Dorand if he had been out of the picture. Dorand was a man who had been waiting to give his heart and soul to a woman for a long time, and it looked like he’d chosen Aleeza as that woman, whether he realized it just yet or not.

Stolen her is more like it.

The voice was faint, but it was still there, mere seconds after the incantation. If it continued like this he would run mad. Run mad or give in, sink into that voice and let it guide him to whatever dark purpose it would have him serve.

“No way in hell.” He spoke the words aloud, giving himself a stern look in the rearview mirror just in time to see the two men slip between his car and the one behind and run across the street, following Aleeza.

They were witches, but of what gods-forsaken coven he had no clue. Their aura was a faint, sickly yellow, their hair shaved to within an inch of their heads. Something about their clothing bothered him as well…too new, too…what was it? Ferrin emerged quietly from the car and slipped his black leather jacket on as he crossed the street behind the pair.

Too identical, that was it. Their jeans were the same brand and even looked to be the same size though the men themselves were vastly different heights. One was barely taller than Aleeza while the other was pushing six feet. The smaller man had cuffed his jeans, and the taller one’s ankles showed between the bottom of his pants and his cheap black shoes. They both wore black hooded sweatshirts that still held the creases from the factory, never even been washed.

They disappeared around the corner of the building and Ferrin followed at a trot. If the men had been human, he still would have followed. Aleeza’s building wasn’t in the safest part of the city and muggings were a regular occurrence. The fact that they were witches, however, brought his suspicions to a different level. Had the Fire Festival killer 83

Anna J. Evans & December Quinn

already learned of Aleeza’s investigation? Could he or she have sent these two thugs to make sure she didn’t get any closer to the truth?

“Shit.” He cursed as he rounded the corner and found no sign of Aleeza or the two men. He broke into a run. If the two men were out to stop her investigation, an investigation she’d only been signed on to run for a few hours, that created an entirely new set of problems.

There had to be a leak somewhere. Whether it was on the Gunera side or gods forbid one of his own coven mates, this was starting to look like an inside job. Someone had tipped the killer off, someone close to the Amiantos coven. Someone he would kill swiftly, as soon as he could wring a name from the men’s throats.

Ferrin reached the end of the building where the road turned into a bridge over the river. Nothing, not a sign of them on the bridge or the street that stretched beyond. He was getting ready to run back to the front of the complex to find Dorand and tell him what had happened when he heard someone cry out. The sound came from behind the building, down the sloping hill that led down to the river itself.

He darted down the hill, slipping on the wet grass in his damned dress shoes. He hadn’t bothered to change after the coven meeting and now regretted the choice not to change into his hiking boots. Not only would they give him better footing, but they would hurt more when they connected with the other two men. He hadn’t fought hand to hand with another witch in a long time, but right now he was spoiling for a fight and certain that rage would more than make up for his lack of practice in the ring.

Ferrin made it down the slope in time to see Aleeza twist free of the taller man’s grip in a move that made him stumble and nearly lose his footing.

“Ammon! Come back!” The man screamed the words to the back of the shorter one, who was already making swift progress down the trail that ran beside the river. He was limping and holding a hand to the side of his head, but his injuries didn’t keep him from hauling some serious ass.

“Yeah, come back, Ammon. We’re not done playing yet.” Aleeza followed the words with a wicked roundhouse that connected solidly with the taller man’s chest. He grunted and flew backward at least five feet. She was packing a magical punch as well as a physical one, and the weaker witch was no match for her despite his larger size.

“Who are you?” Aleeza asked, stalking toward the man who scuttled away from her in a backward crab walk. “What do you—”

Her words ended in a gasp, her hands flying to clutch the sides of her head. The man at her feet took advantage of the shift in her attention and struggled to his feet. He turned to run but she caught the back of his sweatshirt in her fist.

“Wait, you’re not going anywhere until—”

This time she cried out and fell to her knees, releasing the man who immediately fled in the same direction as his friend. Her cry turned into a moan and she clutched at her head as if she would pull the offensive thing off her body and hurl it into the river.

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Ferrin reached her side in seconds. He couldn’t pursue the men until he knew she was all right. If she’d sustained a head injury from her scuffle with the other witches, she might be in need of immediate medical attention. She had healing skills, but he hadn’t a clue if could she heal herself from something as serious as a possible concussion.

“Aleeza are you—”

As soon as he knelt and touched her arm, he knew he’d made a very serious mistake.

Eternity. You will have eternity, sitting at the right hand of those who hold the reigns of the
world. Power, such power, the power of blood, the power of the ancients, never again to fear the
pain of death or the abandonment of those who you hold dear.

The voice crashed through his head with crystal clarity, no longer a mere whisper that could be shoved away. Even more powerful than the words themselves were the images, images of him and Aleeza, nude and anointed with oil, the power of the gods themselves shimmering across their skin. There was a babe at her breast and a little boy by Ferrin’s side, and somehow Ferrin knew these were real children, the real offspring Aleeza would bear for him, for their clan.

The children fairly glowed with power, their dark eyes fathomless, holding ancient knowledge that no mere mortal or witchling could possess. Around their heads hung a vapor of pale gray, a mist that was as much a part of them as their very skin. Ferrin and Aleeza had the same halo around their temples, a sign of the magical union they had made with each other and with their Protectors.

The Protectors. They had waited so long, aching to join with a mortal witch, to give them the gift of everlasting life and unheard of power, as well as enjoyment of the thousand different pleasures of the mortal realm. It was the perfect arrangement, a magnificent exchange, a blissful way of life that had been driven to the edge of extinction. But he and Aleeza had brought it back, could bring it back. They only needed one more. One more of their kind must be born into the physical realm, so there were two generations existing at once, and then the magic could be wrought. The second coming of the most powerful coven the world had ever known. The most—

“Ferrin, please, you have to let go. Please.” Aleeza’s thin voice somehow reached him through the roaring in his head. He opened his eyes and found her beneath him on the ground. Their clothes were still in place, but his hips were between her spread legs, grinding against her as if they could find a way to fuck through the fabric that separated them.

The bright green-gold that had shone around them in the forest bloomed around her face, so bright he could barely see the grass beneath her. Her eyes glowed as well, gold mixing with the dark brown in a mesmerizing play of color. Ferrin felt himself being sucked into her gaze, and suddenly knew he would die if he didn’t kiss her lips, didn’t rip away their clothes and push inside her, getting as close to her as was physically possible while still in separate skins.

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