Forbidden Magic (2 page)

She shivered. More heat colored her skin, making her eyes nearly shimmer in contrast. She caught a deep breath. Her breasts strained against her shirt. Her scent filled his nose and throat.

This was what Ram loved, learning the sensuality of a woman as he held himself in rigid control. It was so fucking hot to get a woman’s trust to follow his orders and unleash as much pleasure as she could take.

But with Ginny?

Explosive.

Ram fought hard for control. For her. He’d show her a kiss that would sear her dreams. Fuck the warning flares going off deep in the jungles of his mind.

He wrapped his hands around her knees and pressed her legs open.

Wide.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she obeyed.

Ram stepped in. Tight. He gave her no escape. He wanted to fill her vision, fill her senses.

“You’re going to kiss me again. A real kiss, Ginny.”

She tilted her head back, staring at him. “A dangerous kiss.”

“It’ll be wet, Ginny.” He leaned closer, until he knew she’d feel his words as well as hear them. “I’m going to take command of your mouth. All of it.” Her eyes glazed. And her mouth, Christ. Her pink tongue darted out, sweeping over her lips then disappearing. “Exactly what I’ve dreamed of.”

Damn she was killing him. He lifted his hands, cupping her face. Then he brushed his lips over hers. Pure heat blazed through Ram. He gave her a second and then he angled her head back and touched his tongue to hers.

She tasted so damned good. So fresh and bright, like clean water in the desert. Ram flexed his thighs and fought to keep control of the kiss.

Of her.

Of the wild blazing lust snapping between them. Sliding an arm around her waist, he pushed her back until she lay on his arm and he consumed her. Tasted all of Ginny, learned every little shiver.

Felt her nipples tighten and bud against his chest.

Then he felt her slide her tongue into his mouth, at first tentative, but growing bolder.

And bolder. She reached up, burying her fingers into his hair, throwing herself into the kiss.

Damn, he wanted to strip off her clothes and keep tasting her.

Soul mirror
! The words screamed in his mind.

He ripped his mouth from hers, lifting her upright. “Shit.” He reached out, grabbed the beer she’d opened for him, and drained half of it in a couple swallows.

It did nothing to cool his raging desire for her.

He drained the rest of the beer. Set it down, then looked over at her sitting to his left.

She met his gaze. “That was a hell of a kiss. Is it always like that for you? Are you that good?” Wonder tinged her tone, while desire thickened her voice.

Tearing his gaze from her swollen lips, he answered. “No. Never like that.” He wouldn’t lie to her. And he wanted the truth in return. “You’re a virgin.” With her hands braced on the counter where she sat, she closed her eyes, dropping her head.

“Yes, and I need to stay that way.”

He froze beneath the sizzling, nearly uncontrollably possessive need to
make her his
. But she wasn’t his, would never be his. He forced out the words, “All the more reason for us to quit the charade. We can’t just be friends.”

She looked up at him. “I could have gone on as friends. But now…” she trailed off. Then she slid down to her feet and went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

Ram noticed the cut on her finger was completely gone. Vanished. So not mortal.

She glanced at him and said, “That kiss changed everything.” Ginny opened the bottle, drank some, then lowered it and added, “This sucks. You’re the only real friend I have. Aside from my brother anyway.”

Goddamnit. He was a scum-sucking bastard. A total tool. Every cell in his body wanted to pull her into his arms, kiss away her sadness, bring her mind-bending pleasure.

He wanted to be the man she seemed to believe he was.

But he wasn’t. Never had been. Never would be.

Tell her
. Make it clean and simple for her. He spit out the words that would end it now. “I found out tonight that I have a soul mirror.”

Chapter One

Two Months Later
:

Ginny Stone carried a drink order and skirted the dance floor packed with writhing bodies gyrating beneath the violently pulsing red and purple strobe lights. That was easy.

The feel of Ram’s gaze on her from across the nightclub? That made her heart race. The memory of their kiss still haunted her as she resisted the urge to turn and meet his stare.

Two months and she still couldn’t forget. Couldn’t let him go.

But she had to. Focusing on her customer a few tables ahead, she kept moving. Kept going.

Didn’t look back to where Ram had paused on his way through the club beneath one of the archways made up of carved gargoyles, dragons and demons.

One foot in front of the other, she reminded herself. Away from Ram and toward her goal of escaping her father’s clutches.

Hatred for the angel that had sired her gave Ginny the strength to resist. If she caved, if she and Ram gave into the fiery desire that burned between them, Ginny would fall in love with him.

And then her father would force her to ascend.

Not this Halfling—she was keeping her feet, body, and soul firmly planted in the mortal realm. And that meant staying away from Ram.

That was how they both played it now. If Ginny was working, Ram didn’t hang out in the club, but just took care of whatever business he had and left. In spite of her determination, she shot a quick look to the spot he where he’d been standing.

Gone. He’d vanished through the door to the warehouse next door.

Damn it, two months and she still felt a jolt of disappointment burn her chest. Ignoring that, she approached her customer’s table, smiled and said, “Here you are, Shane. One Chivas neat.” She set the Scotch glass in front of him.

The man didn’t bother looking at her.

People seldom did as long as she kept her sudden surges of power hidden. Plain as wood paneling, even the witch hunters with their oversized sex drives rarely noticed her. She was as alluring as the chair Shane sprawled in. Brown hair, hazel eyes, on the tall side at five eight, and utterly unremarkable. Just…there. Easy to keep what she truly was hidden when so few actually noticed her at all.

Except for Ram.

Stop
. Not going there. Not thinking about how much she missed him coming into the club after closing while she was finishing up. The way he made her feel by just listening to her, like she mattered.

She reminded herself that nothing, not even Ram, was worth being forced to ascend. If she got involved with Ram, she’d fall in love with him and ultimately get her heart broken. Love and heartbreak were the two requirements left that her father had demanded of her before he would take her from this world. And once that happened, her father would then strip away all her emotions, leaving her an empty servant.

“Put it on my tab.”

Shane’s voice jerked her out of the straying thoughts. She slipped the black folder with the tab and pen from her apron pocket and set it on the table. “Sure thing, just sign and—“ The man grabbed her wrist. “I told you to put it on my tab.” His fingers bit hard into her wrist, but she barely felt the pain. Instead, a sudden buzz began in her head, increasing so rapidly she couldn’t get her breath. Her heart sped up and slammed against her chest wall.

Need.

Pain.

Bloodlust. It seared through her veins. Only the powerful kick of witch blood would cool the
burn. Had to have it. Now
.

Oh God, it was happening again. Her Halfling magic was surging uncontrollably. Blind panic hit Ginny at her total loss of control.

Witch blood.

Need it
.

These weren’t her feelings or thoughts. She was picking up on Shane’s turmoil of emotions.

She couldn’t even focus her vision. Instead, everything in the club blurred, then the flashing red and purple strobe lights began to spin in a sickening blur of color.

Alarmed by this new twist to her power, including the inability to jerk her hand back, she squeezed her eyes shut. Ordering herself to calm down, she sucked in a breath and slowly opened her eyes.

Then wished she hadn’t. She didn’t see the club any longer, but a cold cement room with an obscene-looking drain in the floor. A woman wearing only panties was clamped into a set of shackles anchoring her to a wall spattered with dried blood. Her mouth moved but no sound came out. Silent prayers?

Ginny could smell the sweet and spicy scent of power in the blood. It made her own veins twist in need. Her belly cramped, sweat popped out all over her body. Violent nausea roiled in her gut.

She felt herself moving forward.

The woman cringed back against the wall. “Please, no.” A sob broke in her throat.

“Ancestors, help me!”

Ginny looked down and saw the knife in her hand. But it wasn’t her hand, it was a man’s hand.
No
! She screamed but there was no sound.

Understanding blazed through her with sickening clarity. Up until now, she’d occasionally gotten flashes of telepathy when she touched someone. But this time, when Shane had grabbed her wrist, a surge of her uncontrollable Halfling magic buried her deep in his mind. She was feeling his bloodlust for the chained witch.

Anxiety clawed at her, but she couldn’t escape. She had no choice but to ride it out.

She felt her own hand shake, but it was his hand that held the knife. Ginny could do nothing to stop what was going to happen. Or what had already happened—this was his memory. She felt it.

She saw him lift the knife. Horror racked her but she couldn’t escape.

Then Shane jerked to a stop. His hand holding the knife trembled. For one hopeful second, he stared at the witch.

Tears poured down her face. “Fight it,” she begged. “You’ll lose control and kill me if you keep doing this.”

He seemed to hang there for a second longer. Then he doubled over, his fingers around the knife turning white. “Can’t. Have to have a hit.” He straightened and moved in a blur, covering the space between them. Before Ginny could process it, the gleaming silver blade flashed in the overhead light as he cut the witch with three vicious strokes.

Pain-filled screams ricocheted off the cement walls.

Then Shane ripped off his shirt, pressed his body to hers. In seconds, hot pleasure and power from her blood ripped through him. His entire body lit up, and he shuddered beneath the onslaught. A deep groan rumbled up his chest.

It was the most addictive feeling ever.

As the high took over, Ginny got a barrage of images from Shane’s head. She saw that there were three different witches chained in this place. Their bodies had healing cuts and open wounds, while their eyes screamed terror.

Worse, she heard Shane telling a friend about the witches, that they were being held as blood slaves. Hunters could pay for hits of their witch blood. If the witch died, they were charged a killing fee. She even saw the route Shane took to get to the place where the blood slaves were held.

Her mind stretched like a rubber band as she writhed under the terrible realization of what the witches were enduring. Suddenly, she felt an internal snap. In the next instant, she was back inside her own head, staring at Shane’s fingers wrapped around her wrist.

The same hand that had held the knife and cut the witch.

Repulsed, Ginny jerked her hand back, breaking his hold way too easily with her supernatural strength she usually kept carefully hidden.

Red rage roared through her. She wanted to kill him. Wanted to take her serving tray and beat him bloody for what he’d done.

But she was forbidden. She could not interfere, nor could she ever reveal what she was.

Because she’d been told, that doing so would cause unintended consequences in the world order of things. She could only observe, experience and feel. If she did manage to break that rule before her father could stop her, then she was made to suffer for it. She’d endured his brutal punishments enough times to learn the lesson.

Ginny panted with helpless fury, sickness and hatred as she glared at Shane.

His brown eyes widened as he saw something frightening in hers. “What are you staring at?

Get me another drink.”

The vileness of what he had done to that witch killed her ability to censor her words. “You’re an animal. A sick, twisted fuck.”

Shane shot up out of his chair, his face blazing with fury. His entire body shook.

Ginny hoped he’d come after her. She wouldn’t need to do a thing…her brother was in the club and he would kill Shane before the man took his next breath.

Shane looked around, his dark gaze burning with rage. His mouth tightened.

She knew then that he’d spotted her brother.

He jerked his gaze back to her. “Be careful with that mouth of yours, bitch. Or I’ll shut you up for good.” He turned and stormed out.

As he brushed by her, the contact seared her brain with images of those three chained witches covered in gaping wounds and blood. He was going back. Oh God, he wasn’t going to stop.

Her stomach heaved and tears filled her eyes. She turned and ran for the bathroom.

***

The glare of the harsh lights spilled over the dead witch hunter. Ram Virtos kept his fury on a tight leash as he wiped off his knife, sheathed it, and looked around the convenience store parking lot. The young witch, maybe nineteen or twenty years old, sat on the dirty curb, holding her hand over the bleeding wound on her arm.

Her blood smelled like the snickerdoodle cookies from The Cookie Witch Bakery that he loved. He could see it squeezing between her fingers, tracking a glistening red trail of raw power.

Vibrant pleasure.

Her magic rose and punched him in the chest with pure bloodlust.

Shit. He hated the dark need that urged him to attack the helpless witch. Hated the violent desire slicing through him, ripping apart his every belief until all he could think about was the blood.