Married (24 page)

He pressed against her mouth, sliding his tongue over hers, cutting off her words. Her softness drove him on. Silviu caught her tongue and sucked until Georgie’s hips shifted on the edge of the cabinet.

He drove his hands over her knees, up her thighs. The simple black dress Georgie wore—no frills to mar the powerful lines and make her appear weak before the Ngozis—fluffed over his knuckles. There was no finesse to Silviu’s touch, no gentle seduction. There was only need and urgency, a drive to prove to his senses that she was there, safe and exactly where she ought to be.

Georgeanne didn’t protest. Her palms seared his neck as she curled her fingers around his throat and pulled his mouth to hers. She sucked on his lip, pushed her tongue between them with a groan. Her thighs lifted to his hips, gripping hard as she arched against him.

Silviu’s fingers found the edge of her panties, sliding beneath before he could stop himself. He slipped over her warm folds and had the pleasure of feeling her blossom beneath his touch. She softened and swelled, the humid heat of her building against his fingertips.

He circled her opening, teasing them both as he willed her body to ready itself for him. Like touching live wires, her power sparked against his with a hot golden glow, her hips jerking, her thighs clenching. Her pussy flexed around his fingertips. Cream slid from her, coating his fingers in a silent, effective plea. Silviu drove two deep into her body.

She released his lips with a deeply indrawn breath. Her head tipped back, emphasizing the tantalizing curve of her jaw. Her curly hair swung against her chin and slid away, revealing the delicacy of her features, the gleam in her half-closed eyes, the ripe lines of her kiss-swollen lips.

Georgie’s body enclosed Silviu’s fingers, squeezing against his knuckles. Beauty incarnate. He pushed into the tight channel, pulled back, and sent his magic deep, feeling the outer ring of muscle tense. A spasm tore through her body. Her nails dug into his nape.

She wriggled against him, arching to bring her hips closer, easing his entry, even as she stretched up to find his lips. Need hammered in Silviu’s skull until he lost all reason and devoured her mouth, thrusting his fingers into her harder.

He felt her breath catch, then her clenching pussy liquefied. She was close to release, her need for him rivaling his for her, and Silviu reveled in the power she gave him. His magic swelled to swirl around them both, a warm golden light that slipped under her Bane shields to fit over her skin perfectly. Her magic answered his call, pulling his power beneath the blocks that tried to hold it back, weaving them together into a force that bound them for all time. She gave a broken moan, shivered around his fingers.

“Georgeanne? Could you call down to room service for some tea?” Margaret’s voice entered the room a moment before she did, swathed in a silk gown and robe.

Silviu froze, snarls echoing in his soul. Georgie pressed her face to his chest. He stared at the wall, reality crashing down on his head and reminding him that he was standing in Madeleine’s sitting room. The Davenold Matriarch was not more than thirty feet away, with no door separating her from them.

“Oh, um, when you get the chance, dear.” Margaret’s voice was strained, containing both disapproval and humor.

“Of course, Margaret.” Georgie managed to lift her red face and smile over his shoulder. “I’ll do that right now.”

“It’s best you do, I think.”

A soft swishing of silk and a patter of footsteps signaled Margaret’s departure. Silviu shuddered, too close to the edge to pull back easily. Georgie released his nape and dropped her hand to catch his wrist where it disappeared under her skirt. She fought for breath, refusing to meet his eyes.

He slowly, so terribly slowly it scraped every nerve he had raw, pulled his fingers out of her. Then, equally slowly, drove them back in. She gave way beautifully. Georgie gasped, her eyes flew to his. He withdrew from her body completely.

“Silver.”

He lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked until the sweet taste of her desire left his skin and coated his tongue. Her dark eyes went jet black. She swayed.

Silviu caught his control in an iron grip and lifted her off the cabinet. He held her close while she regained her balance, then stepped away.

It took every ounce of willpower he had not to drag her from the room and toss her into his bed.

Georgie staggered to the phone and placed the order for room service. Silviu threw himself onto the sofa. He slammed a lid on the bubbling cauldron of lust and willed his painful erection to subside. To his surprise, when Georgie hung up the phone, she joined him, snuggling into his side.

“Are you all right, Silver?”

He pulled her close, resting his chin on her mahogany curls. “No. I won’t be all right until I have you spread beneath me and filled with my cock.”

She cleared her throat. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

She pressed closer and he realized what she was doing. Another man might confuse the situation, thinking the woman needed a strong shoulder to lean on, that she needed a solid wall of human heat to comfort herself after a difficult situation. But Georgie wasn’t weak, and she almost never took comfort for herself. It took a lot more than two dueling Ngozis to ruffle her feathers enough to have her looking for security from any man.

She was comforting him. Silviu let her.

He loved the feel of her small body against his, so he accepted the gift. The fact that she was trying meant a great deal. It meant that she considered him worthy of her respect and care, worthy of her affection—which was typically reserved for her Family, and usually only Adam and his twin, at that.

She loved him, she just refused to admit it.

“Silver,” she hesitated, then rushed on, “you can’t kill Graves or Muso.”

“If that’s what it takes to keep you safe, I will. I told Muso I’d help him. Muso wondered if that meant I’d be willing to kill Graves, but a Father should be strong enough to take down his own rabid dog.”

“Why would you offer to help?” Her voice quivered and Silviu recognized it as anger. “Why would you involve yourself in another Family’s squabbles? That could come back on you. On us.”

Silviu drove his fingers through her hair, cupped her skull and pulled her head back until she had no choice but to meet his eyes. He let his own fill with all the emotion tearing at his sanity. “Because Graves is a threat to you. Because he is determined to gain power over you, and thereby me
and
the Davenolds. And I don’t yet know why.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Lucky for you, I can take care of you, too.” He narrowed his eyes, his tone hardening. “You are a matriarchal witch with little power on this side of the Schism. This is my world, Georgie. When we have to deal with the Motherhouse dramas, I’ll follow your lead.”

She stared at him for a long time before she nodded. “Deal. But you better remember that, in the future.”

He dipped his head to brush a light kiss over her still-swollen lips. Before he could forget himself again, Silviu set Georgie back and got to his feet. “I’ll reinforce Adam’s spell on the door.”

“What are you going to do?” She followed him across the room.

“I’m going to track down Eliasz and see what we can discover. There are too many odd things happening around here, too many plots in motion.”

“I know. Shit’s getting thick around here.”

“Graves is determined to marry into the Levy Family and Daniel seems happy to have him. Muso let Graves have power all this time, but now he’s looking to kill him. Tulah is being bargained away to whichever Ngozi will further either Graves’ or Muso’s plan, and yet she’s making a stand against it and dragging your cousin down with her. Madeleine’s ill and possibly under attack.”

“You think so?” Georgie suddenly looked both scared and ready to wage war on the patriarchal witches around her. “Grandmother is under attack, and not just…”

Silviu dragged a finger down her soft cheek. “I don’t know. She might be reacting to the different spells Graves has created all over this damned hotel, but it’s suspicious that she started feeling bad shortly after she got here when no one else has suffered any ill effects.”

“Tonight’s drama made it worse.”

“I noticed.”

Georgie’s eyes sparked with the intelligence she’d never bothered to hide, sending a flush of pride through him. “I don’t think Graves is strong enough, Silviu. The exit spells didn’t bring Eliasz down, just injured him a little, and Grandmother’s a hundred times stronger than him.”

“But she’s the only one going through this, and that’s way too close to being targeted not to check into.”

Georgie hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether to say what was on her mind or not. Finally, she leaned close and whispered, “Tell me first if you discover it’s Margaret.”

Silviu stilled. “You think she would do that?”

Georgie shrugged. “She’s never done anything like it before, but Madeleine’s old and getting closer to naming her heir. This is a perfect opportunity to kill her and blame it on a patriarchal Family—while Suzette still has a chance to claim the power.”

Silviu sighed and reached for the doorknob. “Keep your eyes open. If I find out it’s her, you’ll be the first to know.”

* * * *

Eliasz answered after a single knock, letting Silviu know he wasn’t interrupting a private moment. Stepping over the threshold, he immediately understood why, as Christiana paused mid-stride in her pacing. He took a deep breath. They didn’t typically get along, but he admitted the other Davenold heir had her uses.

Ileana sat cross-legged on the bed, looking beyond tired with disarranged hair and troubled eyes. Eliasz looked angry, taking up Christiana’s halted pacing, moving in small circles in the center of the room, the muscles of his arms bulging against his silk shirt.

Silviu flicked a silencing spell toward the door and waited for the magic to enclose them. “What did you find out?”

Ileana shook her head. “Nothing. We were too late.”

He couldn’t help but glare at Christiana, who immediately wagged her finger in a jerky, irritated motion. “Don’t you dare accuse me of trying to harm my grandmother, Silviu. If I have to hear even one slanderous comment come from your mouth, I might have to kill you.”

He lifted a brow, but held his tongue. He’d accused Christiana of trying to hurt Georgie in Poland, only to have his own grandfather proven the villain. Silviu knew better this time—he may not trust the woman to cede her claims on the Davenold power to her cousin, but he knew without doubt that Christiana loved Madeleine as fiercely as Georgie did. Madeleine excelled at inspiring devotion within her Family members.

Instead, he asked, “What type of spells can dissipate so quickly, yet still linger within the targeted witch?”

Christiana blew out a harsh breath. “I’ve been wracking my brains to figure it out, and I can only come up with two. Both black magic, and I have no proof that’s what we’re dealing with.”

“
Black
magic?” Silviu ran a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

Christiana folded her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. Her features blanked, but her fear was still easy to read. “I don’t have black magic skills.”

Eliasz stopped pacing. “I thought dark magic was something a witch just did. A choice to use more destructive spells.”

“Dark magic, yes.” Chris grimaced. “Black is worse and not many know much about it. It’s a talent, not a choice—and very, very rare.”

When magic became so specialized within a witch that it infected the way a witch lived everyday life, it was considered a talent. Silviu shared a talent with his sister and father—the ability to read and manipulate magical energy, a talent to influence. Eliasz had the talent of rumors, listening to a phantom wind that did nothing but gossip all day long. Not very reliable, but still better than nothing.

Silviu followed his thoughts with a question. “Have you heard anything, Eliasz?”

“No,” he snapped. “I listened as hard as I could, but the wind only told me what we already knew. There’s danger here.”

“We tried to find the source, Silver,” Ileana added. “We couldn’t.”

“Try again.” Uncaring that he revealed his talent to Christiana, Silviu commanded them into action. “All of us together, and maybe I can magnify our efforts.”

“You think that will work?” Though he wasn’t technically Silviu’s to rule, Eliasz’s tone held no defiance. Eliasz held his own power in the Levy Family, but he wouldn’t gain any more without Silviu’s help and accepted Silviu’s authority.

The fact that Christiana so readily moved toward the circle they were forming, however, blew Silviu’s mind. His answer was predominantly for her. “I think it’ll help, but I don’t know if it will reveal everything I want to know.”

Eliasz climbed up on the bed next to Ileana. The two of them projected a bond far stronger than their two-week-old relationship should have warranted. Together, they had found what Silviu wanted with his own betrothed.

Fighting his jealousy, Silviu held hands with his sister and Christiana, completing the circle of power. Silviu let his magic rise until he blazed silver, letting it flow out to wrap around the others. Ileana’s magic met his, so similar in strength and form that it had been the next best thing to being Matched. Christiana’s also added a hefty boost, being one half of a strong Matched pair herself.

Phantom wind roared through the room, playing through Eliasz’s golden hair. His face scrunched tight, brows pulled together. Extreme concentration etched his features. Silviu followed the wind, shafting his power into Eliasz’s until their magic writhed into a darkness teeming with jewel-tinted light.

Unfamiliar strength formed a heated glare against Silviu’s senses, searing the interior of his eyelids, challenging him for dominance as it pushed against his magic. Sweat popped out on his forehead but Silviu refused to submit—until his magic hit a brick wall.

“Oh, shit,” Christiana breathed brokenly.

“There’s a block.” Eliasz’s eyes popped open. “The wind can’t carry secrets beyond it.”