Forbidden Magic (9 page)

But he couldn’t kill an angel. Neither could Eli, and that’s why he’d come after Ram as a substitute.

Ram forced calm over his rage. His guilt. Ginny was what mattered. He had to help her.

If she were his mate, if she had the other half of his soul, he’d be able to take her pain and bear it for her. He’d seen the mated hunters do it for their witches.

But Ginny wasn’t a witch and she wasn’t his.

Fixing his gaze on Eli’s strained face, he said, “I’ll find a way to help her. You’re coming with me. Tell me everything you know on the way to Ginny.” He whipped around and ran hard for his truck.

***

Ginny had no concept of time.

Just icy, endless pain.

She was naked. Couldn’t bear clothes touching her. Her hair brushing over her shoulder felt like twenty nails slicing her. Flat on her back on her queen-sized bed, with only the fitted sheet beneath her and no covers, she struggled to breathe.

It hurt. Drawing air into her icy lungs burned.

Her thigh muscles cramped and twisted, forcing her to suck in air. The hot agony ripped through her quadriceps, then sliced through her knees and deep into her calf muscles.

Her legs twitched, scraping over the sheet.

She tried to just endure. Don’t fight it. Any resistance made it worse.

Tears welled up in her eyes. No, she thought desperately. But it didn’t matter. One tear spilled over and scraped horribly against her skin.

She had told Ram who her father was and was paying for that decision. Yet she didn’t regret giving Ram the knowledge of what she was. No, that she didn’t regret.

But right now, she regretted being born and existing at all.

Her bedroom door opened. Oh God! Any air movement would make it worse. Eli knew better. Besides, he hated seeing her like this—naked and suffering.

“Ginny.”

Shock made her twitch on the bed. Hot agony rippled over her skin. She shuddered violently, but still turned her head and saw him.

Ram. He moved into the room wearing only his black pants and boots. No shirt. His chest and arms gleamed with muscles, there was a fading bruise over his ribs, and she noted a thin line on his shoulder. His right hand had dried blood from a deep slice on it. But he couldn’t be here, was she hallucinating? Had her mind finally snapped under the pain and taken her to a better place?

Ram. He was the best place. She tried hard to mentally lock onto the thought and hold it.

He came to the side of the bed.

She felt the air move over her and gasped at the pain. Not her imagination then. He was real, and seeing her reduced to a mass of crying pain.

Ram leaned over her until his face filled her vision. “Eli told me what your father did to you.

I’m going to help you.”

“Can’t,” she croaked out. No one could help her.

Ram kept his face directly in her line of vision. “Eli said your muscles and nerves have been magically frozen. It’s the thawing that hurts. And a slow thaw is vicious. I’m guessing that your angel side doesn’t allow your cells to actually die, or the power he’s using doesn’t kill your cells.”

His calm, logical voice soothed her ragged nerve endings. And his eyes—steely blue and so capable. She remembered him staring at her as he orgasmed deep inside her. The color had warmed and melted into endless pools of swirling blue water. Now they looked like pure determination. She didn’t try to talk, just kept her eyes on him, on Ram.

“I need you to trust me Ginny.” For a second his jaw tightened, then he went on, “We have to get you warmed and thawed. Fast. I sent Eli away—it’s just you and me and we’re going to get you through this.”

A spasm in her lower back made her arch and jerk. Pain radiated in unrelenting waves. She heard her cries and despised her weakness. It took her a few seconds to realize Ram was no longer in her field of vision. Panic assaulted her, mixing with the pain. She was alone. Some part of her mind heard water running and then shut off.

Then Ram was back. Leaning over her again, he looked into her eyes.

Relief let her breathe. She realized he had stripped off his clothes, but all that mattered to her was that he was there. She wasn’t alone in this endless misery.

“I won’t lie to you,” he said. “This is going to hurt, but I won’t leave you. I’ll be there holding you. In a few minutes, the warm water will begin to help. It’ll be better, Ginny.” He paused for a second.

She saw every line in his body—his jaw, neck, arms and chest—all firm up and then bulge.

He was steeling himself to do what he had to do.

Then before she could blink, he leaned down, slid his arms under her and unleashed the fires of hell in her body.

Chapter Seven

Ram refused to waver in his task, even as her pain-filled screams tore through his head. He moved with preternatural speed, rushing into the adjoined bathroom and stepping into the tub.

The water steamed and swirled around his legs.

It was going to get worse for her. He’d rather cut out his own liver than do this, but he didn’t hesitate. He lowered them both into the hot water.

Another scream ripped from her, followed by a choking sob. Tears poured from her eyes.

Tremors racked her body.

Ram was going to figure out how to fucking kill that angel for this. He wrapped his arms around Ginny’s slim, shaking body and anchored her to him. He lay back so the water covered her up to her neck.

He felt her tears on his throat. Her chest heaved as sobs choked her.

At least he wasn’t throwing sparks right now. He lifted a hand and stroked her back.

She flinched, but he kept going, warming her skin. After a few minutes, the shaking and spasms stopped. Finally she began to relax.

While his muscles were so tense, he was ready to snap from the tension. He stroked her hair, playing with the strands floating in the warm water. In his mind, he could still hear her screams when he had lifted her, then when he’d put her in the water. Her sobs would stay with him until the day he died.

He’d changed out the water several times, keeping the temperature up. But it was cooling again. “Ginny.” He cupped her head, tilting her face up.

Her swollen eyes looked bruised.

The sight made his chest ache. If he was her mate, he’d never have let her feel this pain.

Never. “This was my fault. You warned me that you couldn’t tell me about your father. I shouldn’t have asked.” He’d been so shocked at learning what he had about her—that she would leave earth and lose all her emotions—he’d blurted out the question.

And she suffered.

His neck ached from tense muscles.

“I wanted to tell you. Wanted you to know…me,” she answered in a ragged voice.

He brushed her hair back, relieved that his touch didn’t seem to hurt her. “I know you, Ginny. You’re my angel.” He leaned forward, brushing his mouth over hers.

She tasted of Ginny.

Desire flared low in his belly and swelled his cock, but he pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Don’t do it again. Don’t tell me anything that will cause your father to hurt you.” He didn’t let her answer, but shifted her into his arms and stood. He stepped out of the tub, set her down, and grabbed a towel.

Drying her was a test of his self control. All her sweet skin, her breasts tempting him, the nipples peaking from the friction of the towel.

And when he drew the cloth down her belly and between her legs…

“How did you know the bath would help?”

Her voice helped him jerk his thoughts into line. His cock was huge and throbbing, but he ignored that. “Eli researched on his phone as I drove us over here. The only thing we could liken it to was frostbite. But your brother,” Ram said, moving the towel to dry her hair, “he wouldn’t be able to bear your screams when he touched you so he left.”

“But you could,” she said softly.

He turned away and hung up the towel. “I had to stop your pain.” Whipping back around, he felt his icy control slip. “Your father is a goddamned coward. If he wanted to hurt someone, prove what a badass angel he is, he should have come after me. Not you.” Unable to stand it, he slammed his hand against the marble counter.

Sparks sizzled all around his fingers. When he lifted his hand, there were ugly black scorch marks on the marble.

He clamped his jaw tight. Guess he’d recharged, and the electricity was even stronger. He stared down at his hand, hating that the thunderbird, the tat that he had chosen, was now betraying him. Trying to force him to go after the witch he didn’t want. Or at least that he didn’t want to want, didn’t want to feel anything for. The difference between her and Ginny was stark and vivid to Ram.

Shayla had run from him.

Ginny had come to him with full trust.

His angel put her hand on his shoulder and asked softly, “Does it hurt when you spark like that?”

She stood close enough for him to inhale her scent warmed by the bath, and feel her breath on his skin. “Hardly noticeable. Witch hunters are built to withstand a lot of pain.” The need to touch her was an ache in his chest. But he had hurt her enough.

In too many ways.

“Come on, let’s get you in bed. You need to rest.” He reached for his pants, yanked them on, and strode out into the cooler air of the bedroom where he snagged a tank top and a pair of panties from the floor. He walked back into the bathroom and stopped.

Ginny stood at the mirror, drawing a brush through her damp hair. She was still nude, her flesh rosy. Her hair fell to the middle of her back. He loved her breasts, small but so full and sensitive.

His balls tightened at the memory of her reaction when he’d touched her nipples with the tiny shocks, then licked and sucked them. Then had continued down her belly until he got to the sultry curls and had spread open her thighs.

He dropped his gaze to the curve of her hip and his mouth watered and his cock strained against the zipper of his pants.

She set the brush down and turned.

Ram forced his gaze up to her face and saw how damned tired she was. Cold anger dampened his lust. What the hell was he thinking about? She’d been tortured, suffered, and he’d hurt her more in the process of helping her.

Then there was that tiny little factoid that he was the fucking reason she’d been tortured.

Wordlessly, he set the shirt and panties on the counter for her. Then he went back to the room, picked up the covers she’d kicked to the floor, and quickly remade her bed.

Ginny walked out, her movements slow. Ram lifted the sheet and blanket for her. “Get in.” She slipped between the sheets he’d smoothed to military crispness. Ram covered her, then pulled his phone out of his pocket and made the call.

“Tell me,” Eli snapped.

“The hot bath worked. Ginny’s better, but very tired.”

“Should I come home? I’m…shit man, I’m wired, the curse is eating my guts.” Yeah, Ram knew what that was like. “Kill some rogues, find a woman. Ginny will sleep now. I’ll stay with her until you get home.” He didn’t wait for an answer, just handed her the phone. “Your brother.”

“Eli, I’m okay,” she said and fell back against the pillows. Exhaustion was evident in her sluggish responses to her brother. Periodic tremors shook her body as she answered her brother’s questions.

She was still cold.

Unacceptable.

The driving need to care for her, to make absolutely sure she was comfortable and content, pushed Ram into action. Going to the other side of the bed, he lifted the covers and slid in.

Ginny watched him as she said to Eli, “Need to sleep. We’ll talk later.” Ram took the phone from her hand, careful not to touch her with his fingers and shock her.

He set it on the bedside table, then turned back to her. “Sit up for a second.” She pushed herself up.

Ram stretched his arm out across the bed, then said, “Come here. I’ll keep you warm. Just try not to touch my fingers, I don’t want to shock you.” He sure as hell didn’t want to scorch her skin like he had the marble in her bathroom.

She stared at him, her hair tumbling around her face, her eyes tired and swollen. Her gaze traveled down to his ribs. “That bruise, it’s gone.”

He was surprised. “You saw that?” It had been halfway healed by the time he’d gotten here.

His ribs felt fine now.

Her brows lowered. “And the mark on your shoulder and your hand. Eli’s whip. He had no right to go after you. I’m sorry.”

She’d been in agony, and yet she’d seen the marks and realized what had happened. “Forget it. Lie down and get some rest.”

She stared at him with trouble brewing in her hazel gaze. “You shouldn’t have come here.

You should just forget about me now and focus on finding—”

“Don’t,” he snarled, every muscle tightening in reaction to even thinking about Shayla.

And losing Ginny. He had no rights to her, no claim, and he hated that.

Color darkened her cheekbones and her eyes brightened with anger. “How’s that denial working for you?” She shot her hand out and caught hold of his.

Sparks burst from his fingertips, arcing up an inch or two and dropping down onto the bed.

Pinpoints of singe marks appeared on the sheet in a random pattern. He had a tingling sensation that traveled a path from the thunderbird’s closed eyes to his fingers.

Ram jerked his gaze up to hers. “Let go of my hand.” He didn’t yank his hand free, fearing he’d wrench her tightly clenched fingers.

She held on. “Lightning appeared on your tattoo after we had sex. The electrical energy is getting worse. You have to see what the witches can do to help you, Ram.” He saw worry in her gaze. For him. After what she’d been through, that humbled him. He looked down at her smaller hand wrapped around his.

She cared.

About him.

She’d trusted him twice now, first with her virginity and then when she was in so much pain.

But he wanted, needed, to take care of her. Since she had hold of his hand, he tugged her down onto his arm, then pulled her close to his chest. “They’ve tried, Ginny. There’s something off about this thunderbird, and when they attempted to use their third eye magic to see him, they hit some kind of wall. Carla said that they might have better luck once the bird wakes a bit more.