Forbidden Magic (6 page)

“No more. Let me die, just kill me,” the woman in his arms sobbed.

He dropped his gaze and saw brown eyes staring up at him with hopeless resignation edged with unending horror.

That horror was reminiscent of the way his grandfather had looked at him all those years ago when Ram’d attacked the witch at fifteen.

“Take her, Axel!” He bellowed the command.

Axel was pulling the witch from his arms before he’d finished the words.

Ram wanted to kill him. Needed to kill him and take her back. He fought the madness of the curse, turned and got the hell out of there.

Before he became the rogue he was committed to fighting.

***

“You aren’t going,” Eli blocked her path to the garage. He stood in his stubborn stance, legs wide, arms crossed, eyes glinting dangerously. “Get it through your head, Ginny. Ram doesn’t need you, he needs his mate. Shayla. This will force him to go after her.” Ginny had never met the witch and hated her with a green-tinged bile that made her want to hurl. Sigh…jealousy. Another emotion for her dad to steal from her. “I heard Axel tell you that Ram is in bad shape. He doesn’t have time to search for Shayla. I’m going.” She was strong, but then, so was Eli. Who would win if it came to a true test?

“He can find a woman for sex to ease the bloodlust. He doesn’t need you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you want? Just to be another woman to him?” She dropped her shoulders. She had told Eli everything her father said, but her brother just wasn’t grasping the situation. “Don’t you get it yet, Eli? It doesn’t matter what I want. It never did. My bastard father only let me have a brother like you, a brother I would die for, so he could use you to control me. He won. I’m going to Ram.” She shoved him aside and strode to the garage.

“Gin, damn it. You’ll ascend, and then we’ll both be screwed anyway.” She turned back. “Except you’ll have your soul.” She hated the bitterness she saw brewing in Eli. Her brother believed that if he found his mate, the one witch who had the other half of his soul, and bonded with her, then Lance would lose his hold on him.

But he hadn’t found the witch and time was running out.

She told him, “I’m going to find a way to negotiate your freedom, Eli. Or I’ll use my magic to help you find your witch. Whatever it takes, you belong to Wing Slayer. Not Lance.” She turned away, refusing to let him see the hot tears filling her eyes as she added softly, “Or me.” Because in the end, what would it matter? All her emotions would be gone. Eli wouldn’t matter to her then anyway.

Nothing would.

Chapter Four

Ram had run six miles, stripped off his clothes in his backyard, tossed them on the wrought-iron chair next to his towel, and dove into his ice-cold pool. The first light of dawn was just beginning to pinken the sky, but he kept swimming laps. Experience taught him that the burn in his muscles would ease the gut-cramping, vein-twisting craving for witch blood.

As he cut through the water, setting a merciless pace, he could still smell the scent of that witch’s blood. It had sunk through his skin to sear his veins.

Forever.

He’d struggled for so long to keep the dark, blood-craving creature inside him locked down.

Ruthlessly controlled.

But sometimes he was just fucking tired.

He thought of the other soul mirror couples; Axel and Darcy, Sutton and Carla, Phoenix and Ailish, and Key and Roxy. They all had love, a deep unending love that made life worth living.

What did he have?

A soul-mirror witch who didn’t want him or their bond, and who ran from him. Witches who ran from him tended to get hurt.

As he swam deeper, the watery silence amped up the memory of the witch that had run from him when he was fifteen. He could still see her long blond hair flying behind her, smell her blood.

Feel the small knife in his hand.

He broke the surface of the water and shut down that train of thought. He wasn’t going back there. He’d learned. And one of the things he’d learned? Don’t chase a witch. It brought out the predator in him.

Once more, he pushed deep under the frigid water, turned, and kicked off the side, slicing up cleanly through the water. Shayla, his soul mirror, wasn’t who dominated his thoughts. He’d crossed her path inside Roxy’s apartment without knowing it. It had set off a reaction in his tattooed bird and caused him to feel like he was forgetting something important. There was an urge to find her, but it was an abstract, undefined need. Like being hungry, but not knowing what he wanted.

But with Ginny, yeah, that was very real, very much about her. Just her.

She was the one who stealthily crept into his thoughts whenever he let down his guard.

Her expression earlier tonight when he’d sent her away with her brother had made him want to grab her, pull her tight, and kiss that look—the disappointment and grief—off her face. She made him want to promise to fix her world.

He wanted to make love to her.

Not because her father gave her some kind of fucked up order. But because both of them craved it, both wanted it.

He turned again, pushing himself hard through the water. Trying to cool his lust. Sex between him and Ginny wasn’t going to happen. If it came down to a choice between Ginny’s well-being or Eli’s soul? Ginny always came first.

He increased his strokes, cutting through the water, trying to outdistance all the needs riding him. Then he heard a sound.

Ram stopped swimming. Treading water in the deep end, he tracked a noise coming closer to his yard. Then he heard a latch click on his back gate. Instantly, he switched to full alert. It was probably Axel coming by to check up on him, but Ram didn’t take chances. He powered over to the side of the pool, and then went predator still. Watching the gate in the barely breaking dawn, he readied his muscles to shove himself out of the pool and attack.

His visitor came through the gate.

His chest went hot, and that heat spread through his veins at the speed of a supersonic jet.

The burn of the throbbing bloodlust drained.

Right. To. His. Cock.

There, on his stamped concrete patio, close to his oversized wrought-iron table, stood Ginny.

She had changed into low-cut black yoga pants, and a t-shirt that left an inch or two of her belly bared. He could see the bumps of her hip bones, making his mouth water to taste that warm skin there.

Fuck. What was she doing here? Planning to ream him out for the power play he and Eli pulled on her?

Or was she here to ask him, again, for sex? Oh hell no, he wasn’t that strong. No man was that strong.

Forcing his gaze up, he saw her hair was down, and she wore a look of pure determination.

He knew exactly what she wanted.

What they both wanted.

The colors of dawn slipped down from the sky, bathing her in pink light. She looked ethereal and real, sexy and touchable.

His
.

Swallowing once, he tried one last fucking time to do the right thing. The sane thing. “If you’re smart, you’ll leave. Now.”

She took a step closer to him. “Get out or I’m coming in.” Bad plan, his mind screamed. Shitty plan.

His lower half however disagreed with a hard, throbbing vehemence.

Ginny was watching him, watching his mind working. “You need sex, and I need you.” By some fucking miracle, he kept a tight rein on the raw lust coursing through him. “I told you, I won’t risk hurting you. If I shock you badly enough, you could burn.” It hadn’t happened yet, but the witches thought it would eventually.

“That’s an excuse. You didn’t hurt me when you touched me earlier tonight. I’m tougher than you think, Ram.”

He knew she had a spine of steel, he’d seen that when Eli was hurt and when she dealt with difficult customers. But showing it to him? Now? When he was so close to losing control from the bloodlust that it made the predator in him rise up and demand to prove its dominance? She was taunting danger.

“Damn it, Ginny,” he growled low in his throat. The need for her, only her, strangled his balls. Made his chest burn beneath the tat. “Leave.”

She kicked off her sandals. Then she curled her long fingers around the hem of her t-shirt and lifted. Exposing the smooth expanse of her belly.

Then higher.

Revealing the contours of her ribs.

Christ, he was going to explode. Heat raced down his spine and filled his cock. The water might be cold, but his blood was hot. Too hot.

“Stop.” He forced sheer command in his voice that made hardened witch hunters take notice.

She yanked the shirt off, freeing her breasts in a perfect bounce that made his hands itch to touch her. Rounded globes with dark nipples that hardened to delectable points as the cool morning air touched them.

Ginny tossed her shirt to the chair where he’d laid his clothes after stripping. She shook her head once, letting her dark hair fall around her.

Ram dug his fingers into the concrete. His mouth was dry and raw, fiery need clawed at his belly and seared his balls. Too dangerous. He was always in control, always. He was a demanding, controlling, dominant sexual partner. He carefully chose women who were a little damaged and needed him to take control to give them pleasure. He could handle that—the two damaged people taking from each other.

Not like Ginny. Smart, sexy, self-confident, and too fucking innocent to know what she was tempting. He opened his mouth to tell her when her fingers went to her belly, then slid into the waistband of the low-riding yoga pants. She lowered her chin slightly and gave him a look that smoldered with her will. “Guess I’m going to get wet,” she said softly and slid those pants down an inch.

A rush of need slammed him, snapping the last of his resistance. Ram heaved himself out of the pool, his feet barely touching the concrete before he was moving.

He strode to Ginny, caught her wrists and easily locked them in one of his hands. Then he slipped his hand into her hair, cupping her head and tilting her back over his arm. Some part of his brain told him to stand down. Let go, let her run. Normally he seduced women into the kind of trust he required. But Ginny challenging him, stripping in front of him, had snapped his control. He stared at her, searching…

Her aura flared around her, illuminating her in a soft glow. Damn. She wasn’t afraid. He could feel her nipples against the skin of his chest, see the rapid beat of the pulse in her neck. Her tantalizingly sweet scent was stronger.

Not fear.

Excitement.

He leaned down to her ear, “Do you want to get wet, Ginny?” She sucked in a breath. “Already am. Got wetter when you rose out of the pool like a naked god.”

Another shudder of need ripped through him. He tugged her head back and slanted his mouth over hers. He had to taste her, had to feel the warmth of her mouth, her tongue, against his.

Not enough. Not nearly enough. Breaking the kiss, he grabbed his towel from the chair, and snapped it out on the huge Tuscany-style-wrought-iron table. Then he turned to Ginny.

Her lips were already swollen from his kiss, her hair tousled around her flushed cheeks. She lowered her gaze, tracking over the thunderbird tattoo on his chest, then lower until she locked onto his erection.

Her cheeks burned, and her eyes widened. Her pink tongue darted out to touch her top lip, still wet from his kiss. She lifted a hand, trailing her fingers along his cock from the tip to the root.

Hot pleasure seared him. The need ballooned deep in his gut. He reached out and settled his hands on her waist, above her pants. He lifted her, turned and pressed her ass to the towel covering the table.

She put her hands on his shoulders.

A slight shock shimmered around his hands holding her waist. Hot anger arced up with the electrical impulses snapping through him and hurting Ginny. Ram started to pull back.

She moved fast, linking her hands around his neck and tugging him to her.

Ram felt her true strength as she leaned back and pulled him down over her. His surprise muted the electrical charges.

Ginny wasn’t lying, she really was strong.

Damn strong.

Oh yeah, he liked that. A hell of a lot. So did his cock. He stood pressed between her thighs covered in those thin pants. He could feel her heat bleeding through, caressing his dick and balls.

But he had enough reasoning ability left to finally understand why she thought she could handle sex with him. She believed, wrongly, she could overpower him if things got out of hand.

He let her think she had him until she was flat on the table. Then he reached back, grasped her wrists in his fingers and used just enough strength to break her hold.

Her eyes flared at the realization that he was truly stronger than her. He watched as he gently stretched her hands up over her head and locked them into one of his hands.

She squirmed slightly, the pulse in her neck fluttering.

Ram looked down at her stretched out on the table below him, her arms over her head with her wrists secured in his hand, and felt his chest squeeze. Ginny had an elegance to her, along with all that hidden strength he’d just discovered, and that amazing internal light that made her stunning.

She stared back at him, her eyes full of temptation. She wasn’t fighting him, not resisting in the least and that made him burn hotter.

He laid his fingers over her jaw. Tiny pulses of electrical energy pinged. He started to pull back, disgusted at himself.

“Don’t stop,” Ginny said, arching her back.

Ram felt her reaction right to his balls. She liked his touch, even with the electrical shocks.

His Ginny liked a little bit of edge to her pleasure. Shifting his gaze to her breasts, he saw her nipples were dark, swollen and peaked. Sensitive. Tender. What would happen if he touched her nipple?

With a little shock?

His head buzzed, his veins screamed as blood pumped and seared through them. And Ram moved his hand.

Slowly.

Not touching her, not making contact, sliding just above her skin until his thumb and index finger was over her throbbing nipple.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze to her eyes.