Sinful Magic (28 page)

He could hear each drip of his blood splashing to the concrete as he stayed there, bowing down before his god, hoping for help. The wind rushed, in the distance the waves broke, and second by second, Key’s desolation grew.

Each tick of time that he was away from Roxy was torture. He’d walked out on her. Abandoned her.

He’d had to. Because Dyfyr was enraged when she said she thought her mother had something to do with Key’s creation. Both of them had been furious, but Key wasn’t angry at Roxy. Not for that. She should have told him. God knows he had told her enough about himself. She should have trusted him.

But it was the Dyfyr’s fury that had made Key leave. Fearing the creature would wait until Key was close enough to her and do something to hurt her.

The dripping of blood slowed and stopped. He healed fast, so Key snatched up his knife and cut again, a deeper, longer line. He returned the knife to the ground, the symbol showing his submission to the god.

Prayed and waited.

Seconds later, he felt the shift in the atmosphere as the air crackled with power. The hair on his arms stood up, his skin pebbled, and a shadow fell over him. “Hunter.”

Key lifted his head. His god hovered inches off the ground, the moonlight illuminating him in all his power. Even his calves were huge, massive thighs, arms wrapped in bronzed bands stamped with wings, a wall of chest, and a face that was indescribably brutal and beautiful. He had gold eyes flecked with red. Spread out behind him were wings woven with gold feathers outlined in bronze. They must have spanned at least fourteen feet. He was too much to take in. “Wing Slayer. Can you save Roxy? Can you grant us immortality to stop the Tear from killing her?”

The god’s wings darkened to a deep bronze, and his face lost the beauty to pure rage. “No. The Tear has bound to her life force. The Ancestors and I cannot do the required shift in her life force to make her immortal while the Tear is in her.”

Hope crashed around him. He saw Roxy’s strained face when she whispered, Why does he hate me? “What do I do to help her?”

“Only Dyfyr can save her now. I can’t undo his magic, Kieran. But you and Dyfyr must save her.”

He didn’t know how. “The dragon was going to hurt her. I don’t trust him.”

“Find out why.” The god’s wings brightened, the air thickened with the scent of flowers, a scent much too feminine for the god. “Roxy must live, she’s vital. Guard her at all costs; do not let Liam or any rogue get her.”

His brother. “Liam claims to be blood-born. What does that mean?”

The building beneath him began to shake and sway. The stars in the sky dimmed. A sulfur smell burned Key’s nose. “He is an abomination, a work of Asmodeus! After you stabbed him in the heart, he was dying as he should. The rogues took him to Young, who, under Asmodeus’s orders, did this!”

The roof began to spin, and Key was caught up in a whirling funnel. He had no control over his body. Then suddenly, he was looking at a scene as it played out: Liam lay on a bed, a ragged, fist-sized hole in his chest where Key had cut out a chunk of his heart. On a gurney next to him lay a woman. She was strapped down, helpless, her eyes wide with fear as a big man with dark hair hovered over her. He was familiar; Key tried to place him when he saw the man’s right forearm: the black, shiny, squirming burn mark that was the Immortal Death Dagger.

Quinn Young!

Key watched as he jammed a needle into her vein. Blood filled a small tube, traveling

To Liam.

He looked back at the witch. She’d been stripped naked, and he saw beneath her breast the half-goddess mark. Fertility witch. As he watched time went by. Days with just his brother lying there in some kind of suspended state. Eventually there was another fertility witch. Then another.

The scene spun away.

Key opened his eyes, kneeling once more before his god. “Blood-born. They regrew his heart with witch blood.”

Wing Slayer’s eyes seared with vicious red. “I’d already taken Liam’s soul and destroyed it. So Asmodeus was able to keep his body going, creating a weapon to find the Tear. It took almost eleven years and the blood of many fertility witches to do it. The demon thinks to make me mortal and kill me.”

“Can Liam die?”

“Yes. The witch blood, as long as he keeps getting it, makes him faster and, if it’s fresh enough, gives him some advantages. Finish the job. Cut out his heart or burn him. He’ll go shade and be gone.”

“And Roxy?”

The smell of flowers swirled on the air, mixing with the strong, masculine, metal scent of the god. “Save her. Before all else, save her.”

Key blinked, and the god vanished.

He reached down and picked up his knife. The smooth handle was engraved with the wings of a dragon. His god had marked his knife. The traditional sign that Wing Slayer had accepted his hunter.

Roxy startled awake when she heard something move in the room. She held her breath and listened. She was in Kieran’s bedroom in the condo—she knew it must be his bedroom because she had found her clothes and laptop in there. She guessed it was close to four A.M. Her heart pounded, but she knew Liam couldn’t get into the condos.

Could he?

She lay frozen, panicked when she realized anyone could see the lights pulsing from the Tear embedded in her chest. She had a black tank top on, but light still leaked out. She pressed her hand over the spot.

“It’s me, Roxy.” Key pulled the covers back and slid into the bed. “Go back to sleep.”

He was getting into bed with her? Dropping her hand, she scooted to the far right and lay there, not sure what to do. It was his condo, his bedroom. The gulf between them ached like a wound. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, trying to reach across that chasm. “I should have told you about my mother.”

He was silent, then said, “I told you

things about what my mother did to create me, about Viv. I thought that’s what a relationship is

showing the other person who you really are and hoping that maybe they could care about you anyway.”

She’d hurt him and that made her sick. “You’re right. I had all these reasons, but at the very core of it, I was a coward. I suspected my mother when you told me how you were created because she’d once told me that she’d done a spell so incredible it was bigger than the miracle of birth. But I didn’t want to believe it. I just

didn’t. Then in the gym, the feel of my mother’s magic was a faint thread, but so familiar. Why else would I feel that touch of her magic unless she did the spell? Or was part of the spell?” She fisted her hands at her side, her stomach burning with regret and so many other things. “I should have told you then.”

He turned on his side, facing her. “I’m not your father, sweetheart. I’m not going to leave you.”

“But you did.” She looked up to the ceiling, wishing she could call those words back. She had no right—

“Roxy, look at me.”

She shifted onto her left side. There was just enough light floating in to show her his face. “I left because I felt the rage of Dyfyr. When you said you believed your mom was involved, the dragon grew furious. I was so damned afraid I’d lose control of him and he’d hurt you that I left. But it’s killing me, right this second I want to touch you. Need to touch you.”

Her chakras slipped open, reaching for him. Her schema itched, wanting more of him. And her heart just ached. She wanted to comfort him, wanted to ease him. “What if I touch you?” She scooted closer, reaching her hand out and touching his face. The warm contact of his skin against her palm felt like a full breath of sweet air. She rubbed her thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone. His eyes had more blue in the faint light.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t understand Dyfyr. Why he would try to hurt you.”

“We have to ask him.” She trailed her hand below his jaw and around the back of his neck. Feeling the tension, she rubbed the muscles.

“I know.” His eyes gleamed. “I saw Wing Slayer.”

As Roxy recovered from surprise, she listened while he described his encounter with his god.

“Blood-born. He was reborn with fertility blood.” Her stomach turned over at the horror.

“Roxy, we’re going to find a way to get the Tear out. I won’t stop until we do. I don’t know how when I’m afraid to touch you, but we’ll do it. Wing Slayer said I must save you above all else.”

“Me?” She dropped her hand to the sheet, close to where his hand rested.

“Yes. And he marked my knife.”

She forgot about herself at the sheer wonder in Kieran’s voice.

“He impressed dragon wings on the hilt, showing that he’d accepted me as his hunter. He believes in us, Roxy. He can’t give us immortality until we get the Tear out, but he believes we can find the way to free you.” He dropped his gaze to the bed between them and slid his hand until he touched hers. Then he wrapped his fingers around hers, holding her hand with such care. He lifted his gaze. “The dragon’s not angry now. He’s letting me touch you.” He released her fingers and edged toward the curve of her left breast. “I need to touch you, starting here.”

Roxy looked down as his finger skimmed the swell of her breast over the tank top. The Tear pulsed softly, pinks, reds, blues

all the colors sliding over her skin as the lights shifted in a slow easy rhythm. “It looks so strange. I can feel a vibration to it. But I feel the touch of your finger more.” Her magic streamed out and curled around his touch. Tingles rippled through her center, and her schema began to throb.

He skated his finger up to where the V of the chain pierced her skin. “It’s nestled over your heart, mirroring your heartbeat.” He looked up, heat warming his eyes. “Do you trust me? I swear if the dragon tries to hurt you

”

“Yes,” she breathed the word. She had trusted him from the moment he’d seen her schema and walked away when she’d asked him to. He’d respected her choice, her needs, her wants.

He reached down and caught the edge of her shirt, and Roxy lifted her arms as he pulled the shirt off.

Key rose, slid his right arm beneath her shoulders, and pulled her to the shelter of his chest. She quickly realized he was naked and aroused. His skin was hot, his scent filled her lungs. And then he kissed her, his warm mouth covering hers, his tongue easing in, tasting her while he cupped her breast and teased her nipple with his thumb.

Her magic began to race up and down, fluttering around their joined mouths, seeking the heat of his hand, even grazing where her side was pressed into him. Her thoughts broke apart and drifted away, replaced by the feel of Kieran. He kept up the sensual onslaught to her breasts, circling them, petting, soft tugs on her nipples, his kiss growing hotter, deeper. She couldn’t lie still beneath him, shifting her hips, her schema demanding attention and flooding the folds between her thighs.

Key broke the kiss, rising up to push the covers back. Then he watched her face as he trailed a hand down her ribs, over her stomach to the edge of her panties. Hooking his fingers in them, he lifted her up to drag them down her legs.

Roxy bent her knees and kicked them off.

Key slid his hand up her left leg, caught her knee and lifted it over his hip. She lay on her back, spread open, his arm cradling her. The room was semidark, but the shadowy light on his face revealed how much he needed her trust. “I need to know I can give you pleasure, not pain. I need to.”

Her magic, her body, her very soul answered him, swelling until she was desperate for his touch. “Please.”

He moved his hand up her thigh until he came to her schema. He caressed the mark. “Your magic, it’s so damned sexy,” he said, hot color rising over his cheeks.

Her magic surged like a tidal wave. She couldn’t bear the torment and twisted her hips, trying to get more. The need was too big, too deep. Panic was starting to constrict her chest. It would keep growing with no relief!

Kieran tightened his powerful arm around her shoulders, and a second later she felt wings wrapping around her.

“We have you,” his voice was deeper and fuller. He trailed his hand between her thighs, to her slick swollen folds, and he stroked her where she needed it most. His fingers caressed her clit, up and down, back and forth until she was nearly weeping as the pressure built and built. But Kieran and Dyfyr held her, giving her more and more.

Then he slid his fingers inside her, filling her, and Roxy shattered, arching as hot, deep pleasure vibrated within her, all hers. Just for her. She felt Kieran and Dyfyr giving it to her, stroking her higher, supporting her as she flew, then catching her as she fell.

Key rolled over her, his shoulders bulging and his eyes darkened to a fierce, possessive blue. He spread her legs wider, pressed the thick tip of his arousal to her entrance. “Do that again, baby. This time, with me.” Then he thrust deep, his body joining hers in another flight of soul-binding pleasure.

“Roxy.”

She startled awake and looked around to see she was in Kieran’s bedroom. Looking to her left, the bed was empty next to her. What time was it? She glanced at the clock. Almost noon.

Had she dreamed someone called her name? She blinked, trying to push back the fog of sleep.

“Roxanne!”

She jumped, recognizing the voice this time. “Mom?” Her magic bubbled, her chakras feeling another witch trying to connect. What the hell was her mom doing here? “Where are you?”

“Your laptop. It’s taken me hours to find you!”

In seconds her first four chakras opened. She looked to the dresser across the room where her laptop rested next to a couple of piles of folded clothes that Ram and Sutton had gotten from her apartment. Roxy swung her legs out of bed and realized she was naked. She grabbed her panties, dragged them up her legs, and stood. For a second, black spots danced on the edges of her vision, and she had to put her hand on the bed to hold the room steady.

Damn, she’d slept hard.

“One second, Mom,” she called out, then she went to the dresser, grabbed a high-neck, dark-colored shirt, and put it on, then tugged on a pair of jeans. She looked down; the pulsing colored lights from the tear were dimmed beneath the shirt. Another sound caused her to look up.