Magic Resistant (8 page)

“In the bathroom. Should be one still in its
package. I grabbed a few to stock up since you never know when you
might lose your toothbrush. Or, you know, abduct someone.” He
watched as she walked, or more accurately hobbled, to the bathroom.
He shook his head and realized he had it bad for her. Morning
breath, he hadn't even noticed.

If Markus was baiting him, he’d chosen
wisely.

As she hobbled away, he wondered if she’d
caused more damage to it during the workout. While the moves
weren’t overly strenuous, they did require balance and for her full
weight placed on one foot or the other. Perhaps he’d have to cast
another heal on her. He tried to ignore the thrill of desire that
thought gave him.

Turning back to the computer, he brought up
several files she’d be interested in. The main file contained
several crimes committed by demons, covered up and ignored.
Initially he’d investigated these crimes only to have his findings
buried, destroyed by unknown people. When he started digging into
that mess, everything blew up in his face and he went on the
run.

A surprised screech came from the bathroom as
he opened pictures for her to browse through. Worried she’d fallen
and hurt herself, he burst in without knocking and exclaimed,
“What’s wrong? Why did you scream?”

Flattened against the left wall, Julia was as
far away from the tub as possible. Still standing, she didn’t
appear in pain. A half-opened toothbrush hung haphazardly on the
edge of the sink.

An embarrassed cough of laughter as she
shielded away from looking at him. “Well, it’s silly, but there’s a
bee.”

“A bee? You shrieked and nearly gave me a
heart attack cause of a bee?” Jackson stared in disbelief. She’d
taken on a troll without flinching. A bee was nothing in
comparison. Where was his brave, bold warrior?

“It wasn’t a shriek. More of a battle
cry.”

“A battle cry?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Well,
it’s better than Victor’s. He likes to yell ‘Avenge my death!’
every time we corner a demon.”

“No he doesn’t.” Julia covered her mouth,
trying to hide her giggle. “Does he really? Does he expect to
die?”

“Nope. Says it confuses the demon. Thinks
he’s an incompetent mage and then they’re easier to capture. I
don't know if it makes a difference though. Never tried to banish
one without Victor next to me.”

A soft humming drifted past his ear. Turning
his head, he watched the fat bumblebee whirl in lazy circles
searching for nectar.

“This little guy scared you? He’s harmless.”
He reached out letting the bee rest upon his bare forearm. “Bet
he’s hungry.”

“Well you’re not feeding me to him; I’m not
sweet enough. Now please, get that thing out of here.”

He laughed a little and brought his other
hand up, placating her. “Okay, okay. I’ll get rid of it for
you.”

“Alright, good. Just don’t kill it.” She
shimmied closer to the door. With deliberate care, she walked
backwards towards the door, a sharp eye on the bee the whole time,
suspicious of its intent. Did she expect it to attack her from
across the room?

“What?” He shot her a disbelieving look,
wondering if he misheard her. Killing the bee hadn’t crossed his
mind. However, she wanted it saved? He hadn’t expected her to care
one way or the other.

“Well, it can’t help me being allergic to it.
Shoo it out the window or something.”

“You want me to shoo it out the window? Wait,
you’re afraid of a bee cause you’re allergic? That doesn’t make
sense. Heal yourself if it stings you.”

“They also die after stinging. I don’t want
to be the cause of their death. Now, hop to it, before it tries to
attack again.” She clapped her hands twice, trying to speed him
up.

A tiny sigh escaped him. Better to humour
her.

Moving towards the window, he brushed past
Julia. The bee fluttered its wings, lifting its fuzzy body before
settling again on his arm.

A small screech escaped Julia and she bolted
from the bathroom.

“Let me know when it’s gone!” She yelled from
the other room.

He chuckled, amazed a tiny, harmless creature
scared a woman who battled trolls and stared down a Fae.

He had to admit, he felt like a hero,
rescuing her from danger.

And, being a man faced with a woman’s
irrational fear, he did what any self-respecting man would do -
think of ways to tease her mercilessly about it. A wide grin split
his face as he swaggered from the bathroom to join his damsel in
distress.

He could get used to her as a roommate.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Julia stood and worked
the kinks out of her body. Her muscles protested the inactivity,
unused to sitting still for long periods of time. An hour into
reading the files, she’d given up all thought of escape. No way was
she losing the chance to crack this mystery.

While still not convinced of his innocence,
the information he’d gathered fascinated her. Crimes covered up,
demons used as lackeys and so much political intrigue her brain
hummed with enthusiasm. Why, some of this appeared to be
un-redacted files directly from the Coterie. How he gained access
to them, she could only guess.

Markus would be so jealous she was studying
this material and not him. He loved complex mysteries.

This whole situation smacked of a frame job.
Too much didn’t add up correctly. Several crime scenes showed demon
activity, but then ruled as human actions. Once it had that label,
the Coterie and Enforcers pretended it didn’t exist. With humans
outnumbering the preternatural world, they required police that
dealt with solely human on human crimes. Unequipped to properly
investigate supernatural activity, the police floundered. These
crimes became cold cases and never solved.

While trusting Jackson seemed inadvisable,
what with him labeled as dangerous and to approach with backup, she
knew better than to blindly trust her superiors. She lived her life
in constant fear she’d be executed on the spot for being a vile,
horrible creature bent on destroying all mages due to a genetic
anomaly. She was living proof the “facts” didn’t paint the full
picture.

As for Jackson, he made no moves against her,
in fact, he’d been downright impersonal. Only when she asked him
questions did he come alive, expounding upon this detail or that.
Otherwise he ignored her, acted like she wasn’t even there. Someone
with murder or other nasty thoughts wouldn’t go out of their way to
avoid even touching their intended victim, right?

Earlier, she’d opened her inner sight,
surreptitiously examining him. Sadly, she wasn’t one of the rare
mages who could hear thoughts. Instead she had to rely on his inner
core and see if evil was at the forefront. It wasn’t a foolproof
test as many things could feature into a person’s capacity for
malevolence. Intentions and premeditated plans as well as enjoyment
for suffering factored in heavily. A serial killer who lived for
the kill would be predominately evil and twisted. A solider
fighting for the greater good and willing to sacrifice himself
wouldn’t.

Her stomach growled, reminding her with all
the excitement she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Wait, that was
wrong. It would’ve been the previous night, before Markus rudely
woke her up for this insane adventure.

“So, impolite as this is, though not as
impolite as kidnapping me, do you have any food? I’m starving.”
Glancing over at Jackson, she caught a peculiar look on his face,
one she couldn’t read. Perhaps he felt guilty about this situation.
Either way, she was getting food whether he liked it or not. She
was now his responsibility.

“Yeah, the cupboards and fridge are somewhat
stocked. I didn’t grab a ton of food since I wasn’t expecting to
have company. I’ll do a grocery order online and have it
delivered." He paused and made a face. "I don’t want to take the
chance of leaving this room so soon after Markus finding me.”

When he went to stand up, Julia waved him
back down. Her foot wasn’t bothering her. A tiny twinge of pain and
nothing more. Resting and elevating it for the past little while
had helped, along with Jackson’s previous healing. “Please, stay
put. I enjoy cooking and I find it relaxing. I’m assuming you
grabbed stuff you like, so whatever I make should be fine with
you?”

“Of course. If it’s not too much trouble... I
mean with your foot and all. I don’t want you to cause any more
damage to it.” He seemed genuinely bothered and she tramped down on
the snappy reply that bubbled to the surface. Her pain wasn’t
completely his fault and, after scouring through the evidence he’d
gathered, she was oddly glad she’d sprained her ankle. If she
hadn’t, she would’ve escaped by now, missing the opportunity of her
career.

“Actually, another healing on my ankle would
be great.” A part of her balked at asking him for a favour.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough concentration to cast a
healing while also forcing her resistance to drop. If he thought it
odd she wanted him to do it, he didn’t say. Instead he gave her a
half-smile and gestured to the bed.

“Make yourself comfortable and let me know
when you’re ready.” His attention wandered back to the computer.
Settling on the bed, she hiked up her pant leg.

“I’m ready.” A steady breath, bracing
herself.

Approaching the foot of the bed, he knelt and
laid his hands on her ankle, soft and gentle. Eyes closed, she
tried shutting out his touch and focused on lowering her
resistance. She pictured the brick wall surrounding her, protecting
her, but also hindering beneficial spells. Brick by brick, she
removed it, exposing herself to the healing. Energy washed over
her. The tingle in her ankle worked its way up her body and
engulfed her with warmth. Opening her eyes, she smiled, riding the
wave of pure bliss.

The heat in his eyes confused her and her
smile faltered. Unsure of what to say, she murmured, “Thank you. It
feels better now.”

He let go of her ankle, almost reluctant, his
fingers lingering before he made his way back to the table. Her
skin tingled where he touched.

Due to the magic
, she told herself,
and not because she yearned for more
.

His back to her, Jackson dived into his
notes, dismissing her. A little peeved he could ignore her without
a single glance her way, she adjusted her pant leg, covering up her
calf. The temptation to smack him with an itching spell snuck into
her mind. She decided such a spell was childish and beneath her
(damn it!) and dissipated the magic twisting inside her.

Head held high, ignoring the gorgeous
jackass, she strode to the kitchen.

As she rummaged through the cupboards and
fridge, French toast won the food battle. Easy, filling and tasty
with a bit of cinnamon. Oh, of course he didn’t have cinnamon.
Fine, easy and filling then.

A huff of irritation escaped as she glared at
her new nemesis. The mixing bowls on the upper shelf taunted her.
Why did he put them up so high? Plenty of empty shelves closer to
ground level.

Nosing around, she found no step stool and
hopping up on the counter with a sore ankle didn’t appeal to her.
Getting up would be a breeze. Getting down worried her. Landing
with all her weight on her ankle would set back the progress she’d
made.

“Uh, Jackson. I need some help in here,
please.” She gritted out, striving hard for pleasantness. She
failed.

Forced to rely on someone else galled her.
Either she asked for help or hurt herself due to pride. Both
choices sucked.

Several themes kept recurring in her life as
of late and she didn’t like them one bit.

He sauntered into the tiny kitchenette. Even
in her irritation, she appreciated his fluid motion, the lethal
predator lurking under his civilized veneer. A man confident in his
abilities, willing to tangle with rogue demons when most mages
shied away from them. Only the strongest mages, mentally and in
magic, hunted demons, handpicked from hundreds of applicants.
Demons were tricky bastards, breaking any rules necessary to stay
on Earth.

Tearing her eyes away from him, she pointed
to the bowls on one of the upper shelves. A second too slow, she
didn’t move out of his way. His body caging her, he stretched to
his full length. Trapped against the counter, his firm chest
brushed against her shoulder, sending tiny bolts of lightning along
her spine.

The faint smell of wood smoke curled around
her senses, tantalizing her.

Ignoring him while sitting at the table had
been difficult, but she’d successfully buried her lustful thoughts.
Total focus on the puzzle at hand helped her forget, if for a few
hours, she found him attractive. A shame it’d also shown her his
keen intelligence. Why did she have to find smart men so damn
sexy?

She tensed and gripped the counter, her
knuckles turning white. Touching something she shouldn’t, no matter
how tempting, was a definite no-no. The sneaky glimpse she’d had
earlier this morning and during their workout burned every inch of
luscious stretched muscle into her mind. She’d almost given away
her naughty spying with that damn moan.

His stomach muscles clenched, molded against
her back, as he grabbed the bowls. Suppressing the shiver of
desire, she blankly stared at the bowls now sitting on the counter
in front of her.

“Pick one and I’ll put the rest back.” His
voice husky and deep murmured next to her ear, his breath tickling
her skin. Fumbling, she latched on the second one from the top,
hoping it was the appropriate size. Metal rung loud in the still
air and she twitched.

Steadying himself with a hand on her opposite
shoulder, he reached upwards, his full length pressed firmly
against her. Her nerve endings oversensitive, each minute movement
he made fanning the burning flame within her. All told, it took him
less than a few seconds to put the bowls away.