Nature's Pentacle

NATURE’S PENTACLE

Eden Rivers

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Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Nature’s Pentacle Eden Rivers This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Loose Id LLC 1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924 Carson City NV 89701-1215 www.loose-id.com

Copyright © March 2008 by Eden Rivers All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

ISBN 978-1-59632-656-9 Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

Printed in the United States of America

Editor: Ann M. Curtis Cover Artist: Anne Cain

www.loose-id.com

Chapter One A human pentagram, head to head, arms linked, feet stretched toward the points. The unpleasant sensation of cracked earth and brittle pine needles under my back. Heat. Scorching, dry heat. Fear. Panic. Summoning strength and determination, Lena pushed her fears aside and focused on rain. Cool, healing rain. Power crackled through her, the feel of it so palpable, she feared the dry brush at the edge of the clearing would ignite. She experienced a moment of pain as the witch with whom she’d been paired entered her. She was dry, as dry as the parched forest. Frightened. “Shh. Think of healing. Think of rain.” His voice was rich and deep, even when he whispered. And though his hands felt strange on her skin -- the roughness of his work-worn fingers, the strength of his grip on her hips -- his touch wasn’t unpleasant. If she could only relax, open herself. Soft moans surrounded her as four other pairs coupled to forge the link. A monotonous chant drifted on the night air as the three anchors standing at the center channeled and directed their power. When the man above her touched her neck with his lips, a rush of cool air dried the sweat on her forehead, a breeze that seemed driven by the beating of a thousand birds’ wings. “Feel that? The cooling? The breeze? We’re doing that. Cast outward now.” With a soft cry, she tugged her hips away from him as he drove deeper, then remembered their purpose and forced herself to lean into his thrusts. Desperate to focus, she rode the wave of energy building around her, thought of moist soil, mulch, earthworms, layers of moss, green sprouts. Heal the soil first, then call the rain.

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Someone screamed, and she tensed until she realized it wasn’t Skyler, the only one of the witches she knew well enough to be concerned about. As the cry faded to a soft moan, she shivered despite the heat. The voice was male, and the emotion behind it a confusing mix of pleasure and pain. Raise energy, heal the earth. In this northern Wisconsin clearing and across North America, several groups of thirteen witches united in this rite tonight, linked by the determination of the anchors, the strongest among them. No rules, except to summon enough power to bring rain to quiet the storms, calm the oceans, and dampen the fires. Sex generated energy that allowed them to widen the reach of their magic. Adding edgier elements magnified the effect. Forcing back an edge of terror, Lena dug her fingers into the forearms of the strangers to her right and left, swept up in rising panic and desperate to ground herself. “I’m not going to hurt you. And you’re not going to hurt me. We’ve got plenty of power between us. Don’t fight it.” His voice sounded steady, confident -- everything she wasn’t feeling at the moment. Moss, soft and pungent. Burrowing creatures. Butterfly wings. Scorched grass unfolding and turning green. Damp earth. “Tell me your name. Why hadn’t she thought to ask when they’d arrived at the clearing? Before they’d created the circle? “Matt.” He said his name in a whoosh of escaping breath and followed the word with a groan. As his chest hair brushed her pebbled nipples and he rested more of his weight on her, something gave, like a dam cracking or a bridge forming, and she opened herself to his energy, riding the crest of images forming in his mind. Swollen rivers. Rain tracing rivulets on a windowpane. Concentric circles radiating out as drops pelted muddy puddles. Dripping branches. Cool water. Her forest floor to his rain. Earth and water. The raw force of the ritual gripped her, and as she accepted her role, her shoulders relaxed, softened. “There, that’s better. Not so bad, is it?” As the words brushed her ear, she decided she could get drunk on his voice. Her heels dug against packed earth as she gave up her struggle to distance herself from him and arched closer. Wet now, slick with images of rain and rivers, friction yielded to damp warmth, discomfort to pleasure. To her left, the man gripping her forearm mumbled an unintelligible plea and dug his fingers into her flesh. Trying to ride the power, to push outward with the wave of healing and moisture, she shook her head and ignored the sting as his nails dug deeper. When images of water and green things threatened to explode into a flash of unbridled energy, she reined in her power, frightened by what would happen if healing gave way to

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the urge to destroy -- two halves of a whole, the ability to mend and the desire to break. She whispered a desperate plea to the goddess that she’d be strong enough to walk that line without crossing it. “You’re okay. Rain. Think of rain.” Never mind that rain was his, and earth, hers. She focused on cool, clear water, quenching the urge to unleash a psychic maelstrom of destruction. Again, a man cried out, closer this time. Was he fighting like she was, waging a battle to harness more energy than one witch should ever be able to hold? “Focus. Damn, tell me your name.” “Lena.” “Focus, Lena. Rain, gentle and slow. Dew on morning grass.” In a gesture at odds with the intensity of the rite, he curved his neck and arched his back to reach her shoulder, brushing the barest hint of a kiss across her skin. Around her, the edges of the pentagram, scratched in the dry soil before the rite, glowed eerie violet. Her body fit into her own little triangle -- spirit, the northern point of the star -- with Matt’s broad shoulders nearly touching the lines closest to the center. Five pairs, linked in power and urgency and desperation, bound into a single focus by the three who stood at the star’s center. If this worked… “Damn, Lena, you’re overthinking this. Just. Be. With. Me.” Arching back, he found her mouth and covered her lips with his own, exploring with his tongue until she felt doubly filled. Lost. She wanted his hands on her, but like her, he grasped the arms of the witches to each side of them, closing the circle. Slipping into his thoughts, she thought she’d drown in raw, urgent need. “Too much.” Whimpering, she bucked under him, and he used his mouth to stroke her neck, caress her cheek. “Has to be.” Leaves, plants green and ripening with seeds. Fruit hanging heavy on the vine. Soil aching to receive seeds, opening for tender roots. Pushing with as much force as she could summon, she moved the healing outward, covering more ground. A reach that would have been impossible without the thirteen-fold link. Witch to witch to witch, and with that, she fell out of Matt’s thoughts and floated in and out of the others’ minds with as little effort as plants spreading roots beyond the garden fence. Hungry now, greedy for more than magic, she curled her hips and welcomed the plunging strokes, the pounding pressure and raw scrape of skin against her clit, the slick movement of Matt’s chest against her nipples. As she opened for him, sliding her ankles over his calves and digging her heels into his straining muscles, she let go of her conviction that this was wrong -- forbidden.

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Her inhibitions abandoned, she slid into the thoughts of the redheaded witch she’d noticed when they’d gathered in the clearing, pulled down as if through quicksand. In addition to Matt’s cock, Matt’s mouth, she felt the ministrations of the nameless witch paired with the redhead. Her neck prickled when she realized the heavily muscled witch, his tawny hair hanging loose at his shoulders, his eyes shut tight as he gave himself to the moment, was buried deep in the redheaded woman’s ass. “I can’t…” “Shh. Back with me. Open your eyes.” Tugging away from psychic tendrils that threatened to strangle her, she looked up at Matt’s determined smile. She’d been afraid to do more than make hurried eye contact earlier. If she didn’t look, she could pretend this wasn’t happening. But now she studied the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, the sensual curve of his lips, the strong lines of his nose and cheekbones. He’d started out with his wavy brown hair tied back with a leather band, but it had come loose at some point. Dark brown locks fell around his face, half concealing amber brown eyes so light and clear that he reminded her of a large cat stalking prey on the savanna. But the tenderness in his gaze startled her the most. “Better?” Unable to do more than nod, she let herself fall into him, staring at the arch of his brows, the sprinkling of razor stubble, the strong curve of his chin. Where her shoulders pressed against his chest, her arms spread-eagled under his, they presented a contrast of pale cream under golden honey. Her hair had come free of her thick braid, and tendrils so pale they were almost colorless wound across her neck. “Matt.” No question, no statement, just the simple comfort of saying his name. In every way a stranger, tonight he was her other half, her salvation when the press of the others’ frenzied coupling threatened to pull her into a thousand pieces. Hungry moans erupted from the two men coupling next to them. One of them clawed at the soft skin on the underside of her arm, as if he were drowning and trying to pull himself ashore. Matt smiled. Smiled, and drove himself impossibly deeper, until the achy-hot stretch of her skin passed the threshold into pain. The cry that surfaced never made it to her lips. At that moment, the anchors started spinning power like silken thread, drawing energy from each of the ten witches surrounding them. It hurt. Hurt like some vicious creature clawed at her mind, taking what should only be hers. Above her, Matt winced, his lips narrowing against a groan. Somehow, that helped, knowing this wouldn’t be pleasant for any of them. Unsure if it would lessen the friction, she opened herself, offering power and will and hope, but the burn increased. The more she offered, the more the three standing at the center pulled from her.

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Shuddering, she tried to think of rain, to picture swollen rivers, but what came to mind was blood. “Gods, help me!” Matt’s shriek sliced along her spine like the blade of a knife. “No!” If he panicked, she’d be lost. And if the circle lost a link, one coil of rope frayed and flapping in the breeze, they’d all be lost. “Here, with me!” Summoning what magic hadn’t already been consumed by the greedy force twining its way through her being, she forced him to look at her. “Healing hurts. But it won’t consume you.” Another assault -- that was the only way she could think of it -- ripped more power from her, drawing it like a green vine through her heart and bones and out her mouth. She bit back a scream. As Matt thrashed on top of her, more beast than man now, she fought to clear the red haze clouding her vision. “Hear me!” Turning her head to latch on to the closest bit of flesh, she nipped the soft spot at the side of his chest, almost hard enough to draw blood -- and felt his thoughts snap back to her, conscious and alert again. “Send it outward -- help them spread the carpet of rain and growing things.” She panted under him, gripping the arms of the witches beside her so hard it seemed as if her nails would strike bone. Offering all she had and more, she felt hollowed out, round and smooth like a snail shell dried in the sun. Matt’s tears pooled on her skin, tickled across her breasts, and she lifted her head to wipe her own tears on the downy hair covering his chest. The shouts of protest around the circle turned to whimpers. When she tilted her head, she saw the anchors, bent and bowed, naked and vulnerable, kneeling on the barren soil with their foreheads pressed together for support. If they failed, if they weren’t strong enough… Choking on her tears, Lena buried her nose in the musky scent of Matt’s skin. When he laughed, she almost released the arms she was clinging to like a lifeline and slapped him.

How dare he? And then she felt it. A trickle along her thigh, a cool drop on her ankle, a brush of moisture against her cheek.

Rain. With an exultant yell, the three at the center, two men and one woman, the wisest and strongest among them, bolted to their feet and threw their heads back, arms raised to the sky. What had been a ragged tug became a caress, and the power flowed through open and willing channels. Reaching, straining outward, they spread the rain, bathing the region entrusted to them with water.

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“It’s over. Bad part’s over.” Like someone stretching after a long sleep, Matt released his grip on the witches beside them and curled his hands under her shoulders, pressing her to him. The circle had been forged, the power forced outward -- across much of the Midwest, if they’d managed their goal. Now they just had to see it home. As rain slicked across their bodies, making Matt’s skin slippery where her feet rested on the backs of his calves, she gulped a few breaths of damp air and then found his mouth. Exploring with her tongue, she traced his teeth, teasing the warmth of his lips. Inside her, she felt him grow thicker now that the pain was past. When he wiggled his hips in a tantalizing dance, sending darts of light and fiery need shooting through her senses, that was for her. Not for the magic or the wounded earth. For her. And for him. She plastered her palms to Matt’s back. As they called the energy home, grounded it, and put it to bed, she stroked the ridges of his spine. Somewhere across the circle, someone cried out. The sound urged her on, fed her hunger. Soaking wet now, she canted her hips upward, changing the angle of penetration so spots that craved contact could be touched, and slid through what was now mud rather than cracked earth. They’d be a mess when this was over. Not that she cared. Twilight had given way to darkness, but the three anchors held spheres of light over their palms and stood watching the five pairs finish what they’d started. She’d envied them earlier, wished she’d been strong enough to earn a position at the center -- to escape the messy business of sex with strangers. But at the moment, with Matt smearing handfuls of damp soil along her shoulders and arms, painting her skin with dark streaks, she wouldn’t trade places with them. As desire rose in a warm, slick mass in her belly, spreading up to encompass her breasts, she reached down to feel the rain pooling around her. Smelled the intoxicating scent of wet earth. “With me?” Water cascaded over his face, and he blinked to clear his vision. His hair clung in dark bunches around his face and neck. “Just you and me?” She couldn’t explain better than that, couldn’t take the time to voice that she needed these last few minutes with him. With a soft nudge, she felt him slip into her thoughts, knew he understood. “Close your eyes. Just you and me.” Framing her face with his large, callused hands, he rocked her with his movements. The world around her slipped away, until only one person mattered. Matt. Wrapped around her so tight there was hardly room to take a breath, he warmed her as rain covered them in cool sheets. She was tired, but her body responded as his movements quickened, plunging her into a downward spiral of sizzling need. “So hot. Can’t. Let me go.” The intensity of their connection -- thoughts, bodies, powers -- suffocating.

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“Let’s try this.” He moved his hands away from her face, traced a pattern on her muddy shoulders, and before she could identify the spell, icy tendrils of sensation drifted across her skin. When she quieted under him, he captured her lower lip between his teeth. His mouth was soft and warm. His tongue tasted like honey. “So close.” Every muscle cried out for release, and as she strained under him, she felt like she’d snap in two if she didn’t come soon. “When I say three.” Withdrawing until she feared he planned to abandon her, he hesitated, then drove hard against her, pushing until their pelvic bones ground together. “One.” Again, he pulled back, and she whimpered her protest, digging her nails into his spine in an attempt to tug him close again. After what seemed like hours, he surged forward and drove his cock home. “Two.” The word was almost a groan, and she knew he was fighting for control. “I can’t. Too much.” Arching toward him, she ached for release. “Shh.” Tracing his fingers down her sides, he soothed her with his touch. But then he withdrew again, and she resisted the urge to snarl in frustration. Heartbeat after heartbeat, he waited, and her breath came in ragged gasps. And then he thrust into her, hot and fierce. “Three.” The world exploded behind her closed eyelids, flashes of blue and green and yellow. Spasms of wild, drowning pleasure washed over her, as warm as melted honey and deep as midnight. She felt the ferocity of Matt’s orgasm like a blow, sharp and hard, as she became so entangled in his thoughts, she plummeted into the center of his being. As she struggled to free herself, to become one person rather than two, she came again, and the intensity of her second climax catapulted her back into her own senses. She tasted blood and realized she’d bitten her lip. Shivering as her body rode out the delicious shudders, she called out his name.

***** “We’d better get cleaned up.” Rolling to the side, Matt landed in the mud with a soft, squelching noise. “Sweet goddess, we’re a mess.” With what seemed like an amazing amount of effort, Lena forced her eyes open. They’d lain together when it was done, but she couldn’t say for how long. Long enough that goose bumps covered her arms, and the June heat wasn’t nearly enough to warm her soaked, mud-covered limbs. Matt stood, and Lena accepted his hand, swaying as he pulled her upright. Around her, the others staggered to their feet, some with the aid of the anchors. The outline of the pentagram, both the otherworldly light and the pattern scratched in the soil, had vanished.

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As a flush of prickly warmth rushed to her cheeks, Lena turned away from what looked more like a drunken orgy gone wrong than a supernatural rite. Someone came up the path through the trees carrying a large plastic bag, and she tensed until she recognized the redheaded witch. “Here, have a towel. Won’t get you dry, but it’ll help with the mud.” Not trusting her voice, Lena nodded and smiled her thanks. As she stood trying to catch her breath, Matt took the towel from her and gently wiped her face. The rain streaming off her body washed away what the towel missed, and as she waited for Matt to finish wiping her down, she noticed that the water was sinking into the soil rather than running off as it should after a long, damaging drought. Their attempts to heal the soil -- at least here -- were successful. “Lena!” Skyler’s strident greeting jolted her peace, as did the overenthusiastic hug her roommate offered. “You’re all right?” Adding someone she knew to this picture was more than she could cope with at the moment, and she nodded, hoping Skyler would wander off without further questions. “Could you get a ride back to Shady Creek with someone? I’m going home with Giorgio.” As Matt wrapped a steadying arm around Lena’s back, Skyler pointed to a darkhaired man busy wiping mud from his tightly muscled calves. Oh, hell. As Lena studied Skyler’s latest objet de lust, her eyes strayed to the dark lines down his back. Squinting in the dim glow of the anchors’ hand globes, she kindled a glow sphere over her palm and cringed when the added light confirmed her suspicions. Bloody scratches scored the man’s back. As nausea threatened to overwhelm her, Matt tightened his grip on her side and turned her away from Skyler’s partner. “I’ll take Lena home.” With that, he led her toward the rock where their clothes lay piled. “She’s really not that bad.” Struggling into her wet shirt, Lena wished she’d thought to put her clothes in a plastic bag. “I know it seemed cold, her ditching me like that, but it’s just the way Sky is.” Why she felt compelled to defend her roommate, she had no idea. Sharing a house with Skyler worked because they gave each other a lot of space. Sky tended bar at the local tavern at night, and Lena spent her days working in the children’s room of the library. They shared a house for the practicality of dividing the mortgage, and the security of being around to watch each other’s backs if push came to shove with the locals. “Shit, this is next to impossible.” Matt forced the wet fabric of his denim cut-offs over his narrow hips, then tugged his sodden T-shirt over his head. “You saw what she did to that guy’s back?” His voice indicated strong distaste.

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Lena finished fighting her way into her soaking clothes and started down the forest trail that led to the cars. “Sky has -- unusual -- interests. We have an agreement that no one brings lovers home, and she doesn’t talk about her sexual adventures.” Suddenly tired beyond reason, she gave up trying to maintain her light globe. Snuffing out the soft, blue glow with a wave of her hand, she relied on her excellent night vision to navigate around fallen logs and duck low-hanging branches. “Seems like a longer walk going than coming.” Matt’s voice sounded almost as tired as her own. “Couldn’t be helped. Can you imagine a curious sheriff bursting into the clearing because he’d spotted cars nearby?” The remote spot was forty miles away from her home in Shady Creek, out in the middle of nowhere, but she shuddered at the thought of discovery. Matt’s grunted his agreement. During the following silence, the burden of what she’d done hit home with crushing force. Rites like this had been forbidden for generations. In the past, too many witches broke under the psychic backlash of power augmented by passion. Not to mention the fact that unbridled power in the hands of thirteen witches acting with one will presented a danger in and of itself. But desperate times, and all that… Smothering something between a gasp and a sob, she rushed ahead, away from Matt. “Hey, wait up.” He caught her when she stumbled over an exposed root, steadied her with a hand under her elbow, and guided her to his car while she cried silently. Everything was changed. What she’d done tonight blurred distinctions between herself and Skyler, who wouldn’t think twice about dabbling in some of the darker magics.

Well, wake up, witch, because the forbidden pentacle rite veers onto the dark path -never mind the noble cause. “Lena?” Matt wrapped her in the warm folds of a blanket he pulled from the trunk, then settled her in the passenger seat. When she sat unmoving, he buckled the seat belt. Hollowed out and sick with exhaustion, she entertained a thought that twisted her gut into knots. This was only the first pentacle rite. If they were going to succeed, she’d have to do this again, and again, and again. Seeking comfort and guidance, she cast outward. Nothing. But then, she felt the air shiver around her, as if disturbed by the beating of moths’ wings, and sensed the presence of the goddess.

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Chapter Two Still shaky, Lena rose from the cushion in the center of the living room. The scattering of colorful throw pillows, shelves of books, and pots of herbs blurred as she blinked back tears. As frantic as her need was to drive over to the hospice center and see if her mother had improved since yesterday, she knew she couldn’t go marching in there with the taint of forbidden power crackling around her. In her drugged stupor, her mother wouldn’t notice. But her sister Serena would sense she’d been channeling magic that fell a few shades shy of rainbows and roses. She’d tried to ground the remnants of power after Matt dropped her off last night and again this morning after she’d grabbed a few hours of sleep. But the energy they’d summoned wasn’t so easily dismissed. Reaching for the phone to call Serena, she tripped, then delivered a vicious kick to the offending throw pillow lying on the floor. Damn, damn, and damn it all again. Who in the name of Hecate had picked her to help heal the land, anyway? She couldn’t even heal her mother. As she punched speed dial for Serena’s cell number, someone pounded on the door, paused, then pounded again. “Damn it, we’ve got a door bell!” She slammed the phone down and stalked toward the door. Great, now she was plus one uninvited visitor, and minus one roommate. Where the hell was Skyler, anyway? Not that it was unusual for her to go home with someone she’d just met -- far from it -- but Sky had a firm no overnight policy. She preferred to wake up on her own pillow, and wake up alone. “Quit, I’m coming already!” The pounding continued as she struggled with the locks. This had better be good, or someone was going to find himself on the wrong end of a nasty spell. Scowling, she tugged open the door. “Matt?”

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Before she could invite him in, he stepped into the entryway and closed the door behind him. “You need to pack a few things, and we need to leave -- now.” Tension flowed off him in waves, and his mouth was set in a tight line. “What the…” “Your roommate called the press last night. Don’t know if you noticed, but it rained all night -- not just in northern Wisconsin, but across the Midwest. The land is greener than it should be this soon. Add the fact that the Colorado group had similar success in their region, and the Quebec coven seems to have made some progress against the drought up there, and meteorologists would have been suspicious even if your roommate hadn’t gone yapping to the press.” Pacing like a restless lion, tawny and ready to pounce, Matt whirled to face her. “Skyler wasn’t content to let nature take the credit. She outed us, Lena. Everyone at the circle last night.” Holy goddess, when Lena got her hands on Sky, she was going to throttle her. That her younger sister would hear those reports was, at the moment, the least of her concerns. She didn’t question Matt’s assertions, since she recognized truth in his voice. Damn hard to lie to a witch. “So move! If you want a change of clothes, grab it fast.” He glanced out the window. His eyes were wild, and his muscles rippled under his black T-shirt as he paced the length of the room. “I got word from Kenji, the witch who anchored the circle last night. I warned a few others, then headed directly here, but we’re running out of time.” “I can’t. My mother --” “Will be a hell of a lot safer if she can honestly say she doesn’t know where you are, and no, she doesn’t know anything about arcane rituals aimed at addressing the drought.” Fighting a knot of panic that threatened to cut off her air supply, she grabbed Matt’s arm. “The anchor -- Kenji? Did he say…I mean, did Skyler --” Oh, bless it. “How much did she say about witches?” “As far as we can tell, just the facts of the ritual, and who, in her humble opinion, deserves credit. By the Horned God, I should have been suspicious when she made an effort to get to know all of us before the rite. Thought the damn witch was just being social.” His voice dripped venom, and the skin on his forearm twitched under her hand. “At least she wasn’t stupid enough to tell them it’s hereditary -- that we’re genetically unique.” “So if I go…” Goddess, was she really thinking about leaving her mother? “My mom and sister should be safe?” “Damn, we don’t have time for this. Your room?” He pointed to the open door at the end of the hall, and Lena nodded, dumbfounded. Covering the distance at a run, he tugged open her drawers, grabbed the gym bag she’d left beside the bed, and tossed in random items

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of clothing. “Getting you out of here is the only chance we’ve got to keep you safe. And yes, it’ll help protect your family.” The fury of his movements, the frantic motion as he packed her things… “There’s something you’re not telling me.” “Put these on.” Scowling at the jogging shorts she’d tugged on earlier, he threw her a pair of jeans. “The police found one of the Colorado witches dead this morning. So far, that’s all we know -- not who, or how, or why. But we need to disappear for a while -- at least until we know what’s happening.” As she tried to absorb that information, he towered over her and gripped her shoulders hard enough to make her gasp. “We’ve got to leave. Now. If you argue, I won’t hesitate to use a spell to save your hide. But it’ll make my day easier if you cooperate. Damn it, Lena, you’re Skyler’s roommate. If there’s going to be a witch hunt, you’re sure to be first on the list. And the easiest to find.”

***** Damp and uncomfortable in the fine drizzle, Matt followed Lena as she stalked along the muddy trail. When she’d seen his bike, she’d paled and announced he was out of his fucking mind if he thought she was climbing on that thing with him. Okay, so he was out of his fucking mind. But when Kenji called, he’d warned Matt to expect pursuit, and with his neck on the line, he’d left his vintage Mustang behind in Sparrow Ridge and opted for the Harley. With a combination of threats and pleas, he’d bullied her until she’d climbed up behind him. Her own safety didn’t concern her half as much as it should -- other than her morbid concern about what she called his “donor cycle.” But she was frightened for her family, and she’d had to admit staying would put them in danger. “Secluded enough for you?” Frowning, Lena tilted her head toward a stone outcrop that formed a shallow cave in the hillside. “It’ll do.” Without further comment, he kicked aside a tangle of twigs and leaves under the overhang, took off his leather jacket, and sat down to eat. He’d used a concealing spell -- and a heap of dried brush besides -- to hide the bike back by the road, but nonetheless, he felt uneasy stopping for lunch. As he dug into the bags of fast food they’d picked up a few miles back, Lena ignored him. She made a rough broom out of a handful of branches, swept the packed earth clear of debris, and shrugged out of the oversized leather jacket he’d brought along for her, a battered twin of the newer one he wore himself. Her jeans fit like a glove, and her almost translucent blonde hair clung to her forehead in rain-damp ringlets. Her sweaty shirt hugged her breasts, and he tried not to stare at the outline of her bra.

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“We aren’t stopping again until we get to the cabin.” He held out a paper-wrapped chicken sandwich. “May not be what you’re used to, but you’ve got to eat. If whoever followed us out of Shady Creek catches up, it won’t pay to be weak and hungry.” Her fury seared across him like a hot wind. Damn it all to hell, he’d been plagued by some kind of metaphysical connection with Lena since the ritual, and it seemed to increase with proximity. While she’d clung to him on the first leg of their journey to Upper Peninsula, Michigan, her anger had blessed near scalded his skin off. But this morning, he’d known she was in danger even before the call from Kenji, and like it or not, he felt compelled to save her pretty butt from whoever was after them. As he gathered himself for a battle, determined she’d eat the damn sandwich if he had to feed it to her piece by piece, she tucked her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms tight around them, and withdrew into herself. Where a moment ago her mood had buzzed around him, waspish and dangerous, now he sensed nothing. If he closed his eyes, he’d swear he sat alone on the barren hillside. “Look, Lena…” He’d planned to say something soothing. But before he could continue, she shifted onto her side on the battered leather jacket and curled into a fetal position, her hair falling across her face and cascading down her back in a curtain of golden light.

Great. What the hell should he do now? Was she in shock after last night’s ceremony? Kenji -- witch historian extraordinaire, among other talents -- said psychic shock was the main reason group rites channeling energy through sex had been forbidden. Strong witches buckled under the strain -- and some snapped. Fighting back a wave of terror he didn’t care to analyze, he stroked the curve of her spine. When she didn’t pull away, he shifted closer and rubbed her shoulders, soothing away knots of tension. She flinched when he touched her neck, and in the hollow wake left behind when she’d pulled into herself, Matt sensed a flicker of emotion. Grief. Almost giddy with relief, he brushed her hair out of her face and stroked her damp forehead. If she was sad, the ritual hadn’t broken her. Sadness was a normal emotion, and right now, he’d settle for anything other than the black void she’d disappeared into for a few moments. “It’s okay. We’re going to be all right.” Lifting her, he cradled her against his side. Hell, the thought of a full-blown witch hunt turned his tongue to cracked leather and took the air out of his lungs. Of course, she’d be upset by her roommate’s betrayal. “It’s not that.” Lena took a succession of quick, shaky breaths and accepted the can of Pepsi he pressed against her palm. While she drank, she stared out at the tufts of shriveled brown grass, slick and matted with rain, the rocky trail, and the twisted bushes. Dead trees had fallen along the path, and a bed of dried pine needles carpeted the ground. But when he followed the direction of her stare, he noticed green shoots coming up at the base of several bushes.

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“My mother -- I agreed to participate in the circle last night because I knew it was the right thing, knew it was what she’d want me to do. The price for not doing it would have been higher -- with the land curling into itself like a dry husk…” Nodding, Matt waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he pressed the grilled chicken sandwich into her hand, and she took a bite with as much enthusiasm as someone might chew on cardboard. Reining in his impatience to hit the road, he watched her eat. “I promised I’d be with my mother, that she wouldn’t be alone. That I’d look after Serena when the end came.” In the shade, her pale green eyes reminded him of ocean water -- the translucent emerald color found near shore. “Serena?” “My younger sister. She’s in high school. She’ll be a senior this fall.” A mask of worry shadowed her face as she crumpled the empty sandwich wrapper and shoved it back into the bag. “And your mom?” “Has been in hospice care for weeks. She was unconscious when I left for the ritual last night.” Anger and grief warred for control on the landscape of her delicate, catlike features. Her brow wrinkled, and a faint, blue aura crackled around her, like sheet lightning gathering before a storm breaks. “I’ve got to get back to her. They say it’s probably a matter of days now.” “I’m sorry.” As he leaned toward her, her desperation and grief became his own. “So sorry.” The blue light surrounding her warped, buckled, and reformed itself to encompass both of them. When her magic tugged and tumbled him, left him panting for air, he couldn’t decide if he was drowning or flying. Compared with this -- their breathing matched, and their emotions twisted into one thin spiral of need -- the connection he’d sensed earlier was nothing. “I know it can’t compare, but I understand your urgency. If I can’t make it back home soon, I’m going to lose my business. My land.” Land that was turning green again. The rain was falling. But it would take his power to coax the fields to life in time to prevent financial disaster. When she frowned and shook her head, he exhaled sharply. Hell, he hadn’t intended to compare her mother’s life with a collection of fields, a nursery, and a garden center. “Your land, it’s all you have?” Her voice sounded gentle and lacked any hint of accusation. “It’s everything.” Years of work, adding on acre by acre. And he’d watched it die inch by inch as the drought strengthened its hold. What happened next was as unexpected as a blow, yet as gentle as a wish. Sliding closer, she cupped her palm under his chin and traced the pads of her fingertips down his

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neck. When he wrapped his arms around her back, her pale blonde lashes fluttered shut. She tilted her face back and brushed a kiss across the tip of his nose. Startled by her swing from anger and grief to inexplicable tenderness, he tried to pull back, but her small hands held tight to his shoulders. “This isn’t a good idea.” His common sense might still be functioning, but his cock argued that this was, in fact, a damn good idea. When she kissed him, he made what was sure to be his last rational decision for a while. He cast outward, combing the hillside for the presence of unwanted visitors, letting his powers brush across the land, seeking an impression of anything bigger than a rabbit. Nothing. They were alone. “We’re hidden under the ledge. No one’s going to bother us here.” Reaching up to touch his lips, she shook her head. “Whatever happened last night, whatever pulled us together --” “I think we get a vote on this. We may not be able to escape falling into each other’s thoughts, being pulled under by each other’s feelings, but we don’t have to do this.” This. Such an inadequate word for burying himself inside her and feeling her warm breasts press against his chest. “I think we do.” “Look, I don’t understand the -- connection -- between us any more than you do. Maybe Kenji will have some thoughts on it when we get up to the cabin. But I know I don’t want you coerced by the psychic aftereffects of last night’s ritual.” But he wanted her, damn it, so bad his balls attempted to crawl up under his skin and his jeans threatened to cut off the blood supply to his dick if he didn’t get naked soon. Lena stroked her hands along his sides, then slipped her warm palms under his shirt. With a groan, he buried his face in her hair. The scent brought him back to his orchard -warm, sun-ripened peaches kissed with dew. “I feel like the world’s falling apart around us.” Technically, the problem was that the world was healing around them, not falling apart, but he wasn’t dumb enough to argue as she unzipped his jeans. Finishing the job for her, he slid them past his hips and stepped out of the damp denim, then peeled off his boxers, kicking both items aside. His leather jacket followed, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Somehow, he managed to get her jeans off and slide her panties down, but she climbed on top of him before either of them could shed their shirts. At least he wouldn’t have to slow things down by scrambling for a condom. Other than Lena, Kenji was the only witch he’d been with. Since past female partners had all been human, it was a novelty to be with a woman as immune to disease as he was. A witch who, unlike humans, had control of her reproductive cycle.

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Stones bit into his back, and he squirmed so he could tug his jacket underneath him. She was so light on top of him, and as she moved with feline grace, his skin grew hot under her touch. Still, the energy crackling around her reminded him this was the witch who’d summoned a terrifying wave of power last night. Magic that had urged on his own until he thought he’d drown in the flow of energy. As her hair brushed his face, the smell of peaches clouded his ability to think. She reached down to guide him inside her, and her touch nailed him to the ground, stealing the breath from his lungs. When he arched up to enter her, she pressed her face into his chest and made a soft humming sound under her breath. Fat drops of rain splashed against them as they slipped into the familiar rhythm. “Just hold me a minute.” Plastering herself so close her pelvic bones dug into him, she lay still until her breathing steadied, the sharp gasps and sighs falling off into a slow, even intake of air. “Smell the earth?” Sweet goddess, he’d missed that. The smell of soil during a summer rain. Stroking the delicate pattern of her spine, he listened to the patter of water on rock and soil. When the wind gusted, sheets of rain lashed at their sides, bypassing the shelter of the narrow outcropping of rock. “I can smell plants growing.” Lena moved her hips in a soft spiral, eased back, then plastered herself against him again. Catching the rhythm, he moved with her. She was hot and wet, and their damp shirts clung to them like warm, nearly transparent blankets. He bit his lip until the pain dragged him back from the edge. Three minutes of sex, and he wanted to come so bad he had to bite his lip to keep from shouting a string of obscenities. Hell, Kenji would never let him live this down if he knew. “Why are you thinking about Kenji?”

Oh hell, oh hell, oh hell. “Thinking…” He gasped as she pulled back fast, then rose to a half-sitting position and changed the angle of penetration as she engulfed him again. “Not thinking about anyone.” Seizing her hips between his hands, he took control of the rhythm, lifting her off him and pulling her down again. “But you.” “Sorry. Your thoughts.” With a whimper, she collapsed forward, bending her head until her hair brushed his face and neck. “My thoughts.” Shaking her head, she abandoned her attempt at coherent speech.

Your thoughts -- my thoughts. That about summed it up. Although he was caught in a red haze of lust -- the scent of rain and warm, wet female driving him almost as high as the slick, velvet glove of her skin around his cock -- odd images and feelings tugged him out of the moment.

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Terror. Lena’s terror as she’d approached the giant pentacle scratched in the dry earth last night. Concern for Serena. A searing, firestorm of grief -- and something else, something darker, shaded by guilt -- in anticipation of her mother’s death. As the emotions grew darker still, she dug her nails into his shoulders. Hard enough to hurt, maybe even draw blood, though a layer of wet cotton separated his skin from the halfmoons of her fingernails. Overwhelmed, he lost the edge, felt himself start to soften inside her. Gasping, he caught her in his arms and struggled into a sitting position, still buried inside her. Carefully, he moved her legs so they wrapped behind his back and held her close. Penetration was shallower this way, but he needed to hold her, to rock her until she calmed in his arms. Somewhere in the barrage of images, sensations, emotions, and pure need, he identified the smell of wet denim and wet leather and groaned at the thought of making the rest of the trip in sodden clothes. So sudden and unexpected that he couldn’t identify the sound for a moment, Lena laughed. Low and soft at first, then dissolving into an almost hysterical chuckle. “I’m sorry.” Gasping for air, she shook her head. “The only thing I can imagine that’s worse than being your biker witch is clinging to your back wrapped in a sauna of wet denim and leather, with my hair plastered in a damp mess under the helmet.” The sting of her distaste for riding with him dissolved when he realized she’d made a joke. His biker witch. Damn, he liked the image. With a snort of amusement, he leaned his head down and nipped the slope where her shoulder met her neck. At first he mistook her soft murmur for an endearment, but when a blaze of warmth encircled his wrists, he realized she’d cast a spell. “Shit!” The crackling pressure of her magic danced across his flesh, and instinctively, he curled his hands -- palm to wrist -- to try to ease the sensation. Which was his undoing, because with his arms linked behind her she closed the circle of power and bound him as surely as if he’d been locked in steel bands. “Damn it, Lena, stop screwing around!”

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Chapter Three Reaching behind his neck, she tugged at the leather band holding his hair back, and a mass of brown curls fell across his shoulders. As damp tendrils clung to his cheeks, he shook his head in irritation, and Lena reached up to brush the offending strands away from his face. “I didn’t realize your hair was curly. I mean, last night…” Hell, if being tied by her magic wasn’t enough of an aphrodisiac, her blush alone would be enough to do him in. “Please, can we do this?” That represented about as much restraint as he could muster at the moment. If she was picking up his thoughts, she’d know he was thinking something more to the effect of, ‘Move, damn it. I’m going to die if I don’t fill you with cum in the next thirty seconds.’ “Thirty seconds?”

Oh shit. “Sorry.” Her laugh brushed against him, as tantalizing as the scent of wet peaches that rose from her hair. Gritting his teeth, he made a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation. Which was worse? The mess they’d landed in with half the upper Midwest likely to take up the cry of, “Witch! Witch!” torches in hand and weapons ready? Or the fact that a wisp of pale dandelion fluff -- and kick-ass magic -- held him helpless in her power? “Here’s the thing, little witch.” He arched upward, grinding harder against her when she moaned. “You may have trapped me.” He flexed his forearms against her back, looking for a weak spot in the web of magic securing his wrists. “And your little heels are mighty sharp against my spine.” With a startled intake of breath, she loosened the grip of her legs around his waist. He arched his neck so his hair fell into his face, then met her sea green eyes with a silent plea. When she reached up to push his hair back, her fingers lingered, toying with the damp, wavy strands.

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Bless it, he loved having her fingers tangled in his hair. “So, as I was saying…” He arched hard, gaining every inch he could in this awkward position, and when her pussy clenched around him in a series of preorgasmic flutters, he almost crowed with joy. “I may be at your mercy here, but I should warn you I’m going to make you come -- screaming -- in under sixty seconds.” A wash of pink raced up her neck into her face, and as he watched her blush, he decided it was a damn shame they hadn’t taken the time to get their shirts off. Her sodden Tshirt clung to the outline of her bra, and he could see her nipples poking through, as hard as diamonds. “I thought you were aiming at thirty seconds?” A deeper shade of red in her neck and face denied her attempt at bravado. “Thirty it is, then.” Letting his power surge upward, driven by his frustrated need for release, Matt snapped the bonds she’d woven around his wrists, seized her shoulders in a grip tight enough to elicit a squeal, and flipped her so her back pressed against the rain-drenched leather jacket. Rather than struggling, she clenched her legs tighter around his waist. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he plunged inside her, and he watched her face to see when he hit her sweet spot. There, right there. Hitting the same silken-damp spot over and over in quick succession, he drove her higher. “Please?” Her nails raked his back, and she arched against him. “Now!” This was what he’d wanted -- to seize the upper hand. So why, having done so, did he miss being caught in her web of power? Too crazed to reason things out, he gave her what she begged for. Driving faster and harder, he made sure to brush her clit with each stroke. And when she came, burying her shriek against his chest, his world shattered into fragments of light. In an explosive rush so intense his balls ached, he spilled inside her. The rain eased as they lay gasping for air, the drops falling in irregular patterns rather than a steady deluge. Steam seemed to rise from their skin as the summer heat wrapped them in a sauna of rain and sweat. Untangling himself from her arms and legs, he struggled into a sitting position. As he stretched, scissoring his legs to get the kinks out, his foot brushed a thatch of soaking, jewel-green weeds. “Holy shit!” Pulling back as if stung, he took in the ring of foot-high vegetation. “It’s just the overflow. I mean when we…” She shrugged. “My power, plus yours, on top of the web of greening the circle spun last night -- I think that’s why we walked up here on bare soil, and now everything’s growing.” Uneasy, he stood and tugged on his boxer shorts, then his wet jeans, a sensation about as pleasant as stepping into damp sandpaper. Brushing off his muddy leather jacket -- brand new, but already as battered as the one he’d brought along for Lena -- he pulled it on. At

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least he felt less vulnerable with a layer of clothing between him and a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t ready to verbalize. Following his lead, Lena shook the worst of the mud off her clothes and struggled into damp cloth and leather. As if by mutual agreement, they gathered the remains of their fastfood picnic, paused to scan the area for intruders, and hurried back toward where they’d left the bike. When lush weeds still brushed his ankles twenty feet from where they’d lain together, his sense of disquiet grew. He’d heard stories of the inadvertent effects of two witches fucking -- hell, he and Kenji nearly started a forest fire once when they’d screwed outdoors during the drought -- but the effect should be limited. A ten-foot circle of influence was the most he’d ever heard of.

Still green. Damn. “We didn’t do this. Not just now.” Her head turning with quick, anxious movements, she surveyed the greening hillside. “Our coupling shouldn’t have more than a localized effect.” With a curt nod, Matt entertained the unacceptable alternative. “If this isn’t from two witches screwing -- well, I’d rather not consider the alternative. Get down!” Something moved in the dry brush where the trail flattened out, and either she’d seen it, too, or the urgency in his whispered warning was convincing, because Lena darted behind a fallen log and flattened out on her stomach before he had a chance to grab her. Diving down beside her, he skinned his knee on a flat stone, but the pain only heightened his senses. As easy as breathing, he reached for the threads of her power, twined his own through the pattern of energy, and together they cast a net of concealment. No one would see them now unless they stumbled over them. When he pressed his ear to the earth he could hear the faintest echo of footsteps. Heading away. Good. But his stomach damn near leaped into his throat when he heard the baying of a hound. Humans they could hide from, waiting under a cloak of magic, but nothing could conceal their scent from a dog. The baying stopped, but a stick cracked nearby. Sliding her hand into his, Lena let out a high-pitched, tuneless whistle.

What the hell! His hand hovered halfway to her mouth, moving in a failed attempt to stop the sound, when a dark, furry head pushed past a tangle of dried brush. Never in his life had he seen an uglier hound, its teeth stained yellow and more than half of its left ear missing. Which was irrelevant when weighed against the fact that if the son of a bitch didn’t attack them first, one good bark would bring its master running. Reaching up to bury her fingers in the loose folds of its neck, Lena whispered something unintelligible. Stunned, Matt waited for the dog to lash out, prepared to strike it

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down if necessary. In moments like this, “Harm none” became more of an academic guideline than a way of life. As he gathered a wave of killing force, Lena shook her head. Whispering in the beast’s ear, she gave it a pat on the shoulder, and without making a sound, it turned and trotted off the way it had come. His breath escaped in a rush, and he directed the force he’d gathered at a nearby rock. The stone cracked, shattering into a pile of gravel and coarse sand. Lena fixed him with a stare that left no doubt she took the “Harm none” rule far more seriously than he did. Well, hell, she might have let him know her powers ran toward charming animals. Suddenly, lying beside a pissed-off witch seemed more dangerous than facing down that hound -- or taking on whoever searched for them out there on a godforsaken hillside in the middle of nowhere. As he looked away, lowering his gaze and dropping his chin onto his folded hands, he realized she’d done it again. With an angry glance, she stole the upper hand and had him backing down like a submissive cub. When they reached the cabin, they were going to have to sit down for a serious talk. No one messed with him like this and got away with it. For now, he hunkered down to wait for whoever the hell was out there to leave. As his legs grew stiff and his ears ached with listening, Lena lay still beside him, her breath coming in even, peaceful movements that pressed the side of her left breast ever so lightly against his arm. Lying on the damp earth, he decided making the trip to the cabin with a boner was going to add a nasty edge to being wet and muddy. Nudging her shoulder against his arm to get his attention, she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head toward the path. Casting outward, he could no longer feel a human presence, but if his hunch was right, caution was the better choice. He shook his head, and they waited, barely moving, until dusk. They stood in the half-light, stretching and brushing off another layer of mud and dried leaves. He took her hand, and they made their way along the path without risking so much as a word. As they covered the last leg of the trail, he uttered a silent entreaty to whatever god or goddess might be listening that no one had found the bike. At least that much luck was with them. Pushing aside the brush, his hand touched metal. The air had cooled with the rain. But their circle last night not only healed the soil and called forth enough green to raise suspicions of supernatural intervention -- even barring Skyler’s bid for fame and glory -- it had also summoned dormant mosquitoes. The thought that their power stretched that far raised goose bumps across his arms and back, and as Lena slapped at a bug on her neck, the fingers of her other hand gripped his palm so tightly it hurt. Evidently, she’d come to the same conclusion. Mosquito larvae hatched when rains ended a long drought. But however long it took the immature insects to achieve adult form, the horde feeding on them had matured way ahead of schedule.

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Pushing the Harley over rough ground toward the road, he wished he were on speaking terms with the deities. Despite a weighty mix of skepticism and irreverence, he wove an entreaty in which he demanded, begged, and cajoled whichever god or goddess protected fools to see them safely to the cabin. Last night, they’d attempted to seed the clouds and prepare the cracked soil to receive the rain in a larger region than any witch working alone would have been able to handle. But what they’d accomplished… Swallowing hard, he climbed onto the bike and held out a hand to help Lena up behind him. “It’s still green.” Her hushed whisper held both awe and horror. The grass sprouting along the roadside, the pearly green buds on the trees and shrubs bordering the road -- that must be the result of last night’s ritual. More than anything else, her lack of complaints as she settled in behind him -- not to mention the way she pressed her face against his back, seeking comfort and reassurance -drove home the fact that they were in a hell of a lot more trouble than they’d realized. Forget Skyler’s press exclusive. If the land across the Midwest was coming back to life like this, fast and furious, everyone from the smallest child to the fiercest bigot would suspect supernatural intervention. And they’d come looking for witches. Torches in hand, weapons ready.

***** Although the June night was warm, it lacked the scorching intensity of the drought, and Lena shivered in her damp clothes. Her fear of pursuit, her constant thoughts of her mother, and her desire to be off the damn motorcycle gave way to simpler needs. She wanted to be clean, warm, and dry. Food wouldn’t be bad, either. And if she was making wishes, why not throw in a soft bed? Her grip tightened on Matt’s leather jacket as he swung the bike onto a dirt road so sharply she was surprised they didn’t flip over. Before she could work up a good head of steam over his reckless driving, they hit a pocket of air so cold and slippery goose bumps prickled across her arms. A ward. Tiny fingers of sensation probed her body, sliding beneath her clothing like creeping spiders. With slow, even breaths, she willed herself into a state of relaxation so deep her heart rate slowed, and her limbs felt loose and heavy. If the ward wasn’t Matt’s, fear would trigger whatever magic it contained. As far as she could tell, it seemed like a simple detection spell, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Bumping along the ruts in the dirt path -- it no longer qualified as a road -- her teeth rattled together, and slivers of pain blossomed at the base of her skull. The darkness seemed ready to swallow them, and suddenly she wasn’t sorry for the forced proximity to Matt’s

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solid back. Just as the first ward eased, another sent tendrils of warmth swirling around them. This one smelled of pine and apple blossoms. Freshly harvested fruit, soil, and night wind. Matt. She sensed another presence, a magical footprint woven so tightly with Matt’s it was almost impossible to separate the two. The other witch left behind a hint of lavender and citrus. Candle wax and watermarked books. Power. When Matt shut off the motor, Lena jumped, startled by the sudden quiet. Eager to be free of the sticky confines of the helmet, she lifted it off and handed it to him. He helped her down, but her legs felt stiff from the long ride, and she nearly fell flat on her ass. By the time she regained her equilibrium, he’d rolled the bike into what looked like a dilapidated shed, half hidden behind briars and tangled shrubs. Even with the moon obscured by clouds, her night vision was sharp enough to pick out tender buds on the arching branches. Goddess help them, they’d done their job too well. From her home town of Shady Creek, Wisconsin, to some godforsaken location in Upper Peninsula, Michigan -- or the UP, as Matt called it -- their rite had turned sun-scorched land green in a matter of a day. “Next ward’s got teeth, so stay close.” When he offered his hand, she didn’t refuse. Most witches layered their wards with the strongest close to home. Judging by the strength of the last two, and the fact that Matt had been ready to launch a killing blow when the dog surprised them earlier, she took him at his word. When the menace slapped across her senses in an avalanche of fear, she fought the urge to turn tail and run. “Teeth, huh?” “Let’s just say anyone stupid enough to push past the last two wards would have been duly warned.” Seeing as his protection stood between her and a spell that smelled of dark magic and death, it didn’t seem like a good time to start an argument about the clear and important line between permissible magic and death magic. His fingers traced a soothing circle on her palm, and she matched his stride as the invisible barrier battered her will. Once the psychic pull of the spell eased, he stopped and leaned down to brush his lips across the side of her neck. “Sorry about that. Never fun to cross someone else’s wards, even when you’ve been invited.” Her stomach jumped, and her pulse skittered when he slipped his fingers under the damp folds of her shirt and borrowed leather jacket. In a rush, the heat of their afternoon encounter pulled her under. Bath? Food? Bed? Nope, all her body wanted was naked proximity to his. What in the name of Hecate was wrong with her? “You can see okay?” Taking a step back, he offered his hand.

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“As well as any witch, better than some.” Excellent night vision was one of her gifts, but she didn’t see the need to volunteer that information. Refusing his hand, she started down the rough trail she hoped would soon lead to the cabin. “No more wards?” “Only at the threshold.” And didn’t she bet that that one had a mean streak to it? But where there was a cabin, there was sure to be a phone, so she quickened her pace. In the rush to leave, she’d forgotten her cell, and she was desperate to call Serena and see if her mother’s condition had improved. If it was the last thing she did, she intended to carry out her promise to be at her mom’s bedside when the end came. In a few days they’d sort out the disaster with the press, come up with some kind of logical explanation for the earth healing itself, and she’d be back with her family. Right, if only she believed her own forced optimism. Lost in thought, she almost slammed into the cabin before she saw it. “Shielding spell?” “Mmm-hmm.” As he stood by the door, a faint aura of violet shimmered around his head and shoulders, casting eerie shadows across his strong features. His hair moved as if caught in a breeze, though no wind stirred the humid night air. A drawing in, a gathering of power, and then a faint popping sensation as he disarmed whatever traps guarded the doorway.

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Chapter Four “Welcome. Please enter.” The courtesy was no doubt a step in seeing her safely past the wards, but the words seemed overly formal coming from Matt. As she followed him into the wood cabin, a blanket of power shimmered around her, brushing her senses like the beating of crows’ wings. The room was darker than the night, and when Matt shut the door, her night vision failed her. He gathered an orb of light over his palm before she thought to call one of her own, and she realized built-in blackout shades covered the windows. Other than tall shelves overflowing with books, a leather sofa, and a rough oak table surrounded by four chairs, the room was empty. No light fixtures or lamps, no TV, no stereo, no pictures on the walls, no curtains to soften the stark black of the shades. The cabin smelled of old books and scented oils, along with a mix of herbs. As she formed a light globe over her palm, glowing cool, cerulean blue, Matt approached the table and tilted his hand so the light he’d kindled slid off his palm into a ceramic bowl. The sphere settled as if it were floating. Fascinated, Lena approached for a better look. The scent of warm lavender grew stronger, and she realized the soft violet globe was indeed floating on oil. “You want to try? There’s another bowl on the bookshelf.” Unable to resist, Lena walked over to the shelf and released her light globe onto the sweet-smelling oil filling the blue ceramic bowl. Once there, the glow took no effort to maintain, and the room filled with the scent of lavender. She’d have to get the spell from him before she left. This was why the most powerful witches didn’t play well with others. Every encounter became a contest of wills to see who had stronger magic. And she was two steps behind at

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the starting gate. She was on his turf, and the first thing he did was demonstrate a spell she’d never seen before. Double damn. “I need to use the phone.” “Isn’t one.” Stripping off his mud-spattered jacket, Matt stretched and shook his head. “No lights, no phone. Just a stove and small refrigerator.” Rather than berating his anti-technology biases -- she’d already chastised him for not carrying a cell phone -- she bit her lip. When he tugged off his damp jeans, she had to work to hold onto her anger. His muscles rippled as he tossed the pile of wet denim on the floor beside the battered jacket. All that separated her from six feet of male witch was the thin film of his jewel-green boxers. She needed to be back in Shady Creek at her mother’s bedside -- fulfilling the final obligation that stood between her and freedom. So why the fierce, magnetic pull toward a witch she barely knew? Perhaps sensing her distress, Matt crossed the room and touched her shoulder. “Not your fault, little witch.” Returning to the table, he scooped his violet glow from the bowl of oil and gestured for her to retrieve hers. “Why?” “I’m going to show you what you’re feeling isn’t anything you can control. I feel like I’m caught in the sun’s gravitational field, and I couldn’t break free of you if my life depended on it.” Curious, she reached out and called her light globe to her hand, cupping her palm to receive the slight weight. “I don’t see what you --” “Something happened during the rite -- a connection between us. I think our magic got scrambled, tied together, and I want to test my theory.” The streak of mud across Matt’s shoulder and his tangled curls didn’t do anything to diminish his beauty. When he smiled at her, his amber brown eyes glowed with warmth. “Okay, I’ll play. What next?” “Toss your glow sphere in the air. If I’m wrong, it’ll just float back to your palm.” Realizing he had no more idea what would happen than she did, she bit back a cheeky, “And if you’re right?” Instead, she tossed her blue orb at the same time he launched his. When the spheres spun toward each other she let out a surprised yelp. The lights crashed together, setting loose waves of force, sound, and shimmering color. “Get down!” At his warning, she plastered herself flat on the rough wooden floorboards. But rather than harming her, whatever magic they’d set loose caressed her body like a warm stream. Sheets of emerald, sapphire, ruby, and turquoise arched over them like the aurora borealis. Helpless in the wake of the unexpected discharge of power, she tensed as the door opened a crack. She staggered to her feet, attempting to gather a protective shield. “Matt?”

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“‘S okay. No one can cross the wards but me and Kenji. This is his place, and the magic guarding it is unbreakable.” As if on cue, Kenji -- looking no less intimidating than when he anchored the rite last night -- stepped into the room and gaped at the light show. “Every witch in the country is in danger, and the two of you decide to play bedroom games with your power?” Ignoring the continuing display, he clicked the door shut, strode across the room to the table, and set down two grocery bags and his cell phone. Lena’s first impulse was to grab the phone and call Serena, but she had to get something straight first. “What do you mean, no one can get past the wards?” Bedraggled and exhausted, she drew herself up to her full five feet five inches and cloaked herself in a curtain of power. “Given the time and inclination, I could smash those wards.” She fixed Kenji with a brittle stare. “And what you walked in on was an exercise to test our combined magic -- not some kinky game.” “My apologies.” Six feet of wiry grace wrapped in a package of soft leather shoes, tan chinos, and a plum-colored shirt, Kenji bowed. The formality that would have seemed ludicrous coming from Matt seemed natural, if slightly mocking, coming from Kenji. Suddenly, the fact that this was one of the three witches who’d drawn molten power through her last night, bleeding her dry as she trembled and wept, hit her with the force of a blow. Kenji couldn’t be much older than she was, and yet he’d earned a spot as one of the three anchors -- alongside Sorren, the most powerful witch in North America. Sweet Brighid, what had she gotten herself into? Taking a step back, she studied the lines and angles of Kenji’s face. The cinnamon mocha warmth of his skin softened his sculpted features, and thick lashes shaded his deep brown eyes. Black curls fell to his shoulders, covered with a sprinkling of rain. But for all his heart-stopping beauty, every movement, every mannerism, reeked of power.

When outmatched, bluff. “I need to borrow your phone.” Feigning confidence, she crossed the room to the table. Matt, not Kenji, intervened. “You can’t. It’s not safe.” Closing the distance between them, he covered her hand with his own as she grasped the phone. “Your sister needs to be able to say she hasn’t heard from you -- with 100 percent honesty. That’s the only thing that will guarantee her safety -- and your mother’s.” Fighting a sob, she tugged her hand free of his grip, but left the phone lying on the table. Despite Skyler’s report to the press, no one knew being a witch was a genetic deal. Matt was right. As long as Serena couldn’t offer information on her sister’s whereabouts, and could insist she’d never heard anything about the pentacle rite, no one would suspect she was a witch. “Has anyone found Skyler?” She wanted to shake her roommate until her teeth rattled, but she couldn’t help being frightened for Sky’s safety.

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Kenji picked up a bag and walked toward the small alcove that served as a kitchen. “Sorren’s got a team out looking for Skyler and Giorgio -- the witch she went home with after the rite -- but so far there’s no sign of them. No leads on who killed the witch from the Colorado circle, either.” As tingles of fear raced across her skin, Lena snapped. People were after witches, and Serena was alone and helpless. She had to get to her sister. Had to protect her. Before she reached the door, Matt grabbed her. “You can’t leave. They know your name, what you look like, where you live.” His fingers dug into her arm. She pulled free and put some space between them. “Give her some room.” Abandoning his efforts to put away groceries, Kenji joined them near the entryway. “Sorren’s people are protecting your mom and sister, Lena. And no one suspects they’re witches. They’re safe.” Deflated, she stalked across the room and collapsed onto the leather sofa. Matt took a few restless strides in one direction, then reversed and retraced his steps. When Kenji reached out and pulled Matt to him, air left Lena’s lungs in a whoosh of surprise. She’d known they were friends, but the affection in Kenji’s voice as he soothed Matt indicated a closer tie. Matt glanced from her to Kenji, then pulled away and joined her on the couch. Kenji leaned against the wall, his casual posture belying the warning in his glance. “Just so we get this all out in the open, I’m not opposed to sharing, but I won’t bow out of the dance.” With a sigh, Matt bent forward so his head rested on his knees, his hair spreading across his thighs like shiny brown snakes. “I’ve brought women up here before. So have you, for that matter.” His voice sounded weary. “Never a witch.” This time, there was no mistaking a predatory element to Kenji’s gaze. His eyes turned a few shades darker, more sable than deep brown. Refusing to back down, Lena met Kenji’s gaze, and with slow deliberation, she stroked Matt’s spine. Though Kenji was the strongest witch in the room, no one bullied her and got away with it. “Have you heard from Aaron?” Matt sat up and pushed his hair away from his face. Although the change of topic took Lena by surprise, Kenji looked like he’d been waiting for the question. “He called this afternoon. He said the land’s primed to plant, but he needs to know whether to focus on the nursery or just go with plants for the garden center this season.” Matt’s eyebrows drew together, and a shadow of pain crossed his face. When Lena reached out to touch his cheek, he pulled away, stalked across the room, and disappeared into the back of the cabin.

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Left alone with Kenji, she tried to pull her wits about her. Aaron must be Matt’s business manager. No wonder Matt didn’t need a cell phone. He and Kenji were close enough to share one. All she’d meant to do was help heal the earth -- or at least her corner of the Midwest -- and she’d ended up with a mess no goddess could sort out, let alone an ordinary witch. “You look like you could use a shower more than a meal, but that’s what Matt’s headed off to do. Why don’t you see if there’s anything you’d like to eat?” With a scathing glare at Kenji’s impeccably pressed chinos and wrinkle-free shirt, she got up and stalked toward the kitchenette. “I didn’t mean to be insulting. You just look wrung out. I know I’m sapped from last night.” Following her, he pressed into the small space and opened the fridge. “Matt’s broken up because he has to decide whether to tell his manager to plant for quick sales, or to fill the nursery with saplings as well. If he thinks it’s likely he’ll have to sell the whole deal, he’ll cut his losses and go with garden plants. He needs to be there. His gift is with growing things, and after what we accomplished last night, he’d have a shot at saving his business.” “You’re reminding me I’m not the only one whose life got messed up by last night’s rite?” And Skyler’s idiotic decision to talk to the press and grab some glory. “No.” Kenji rested his hand on her wrist as she reached for a carton of cottage cheese. “I’m telling you why one of the toughest witches I know is crying in the shower.” Stung, she tilted her head to the side to listen. Under the patter of water on tile, she could hear muffled noises coming from the back of the cabin. Shoving the cottage cheese back into the fridge, she wondered if Matt would let her comfort him. “He’ll want to be alone.” “I know.” Face set with determination, she stepped around Kenji and headed toward the sound of the shower. Passing through the door that separated the front and back of the cabin, she glanced around the bedroom. The windows were covered by blackout shades thick enough to block out signs of witches’ magic. Other than that, the room held a huge bed, bookshelves, a bedside table, and a bowl with an orb glowing in Matt’s signature violet. With a deep breath, she tugged open the bathroom door, stripped out of her mudcaked jeans and shirt, shed her bra and panties, and joined Matt in the shower. He stood facing the spray, his palms pressed against the tiles for support as he sobbed. Nothing in her dating experience had prepared her for what to do with a despondent witch -- strong, at least six feet tall, fiercely independent from what she’d seen so far, and, if she guessed right, determined not to be comforted. She’d seen her father cry once, when she’d overheard her parents talking about the horror that colored her childhood in shades of midnight and pain. Back then, she’d been an

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eight-year-old hiding in her parents’ closet. Now she was all grown up and facing the backside of a naked man. “Matt?” When he didn’t acknowledge her presence, she placed the flat of her palm against his back. Out of ideas, she picked up the bar of soap and began washing him. Starting at his neck, she scrubbed away the evidence of their roll in the mud. From there, she worked down his arms, moving her hands in a sensuous rhythm as she soaped the tight muscles. He groaned when she began to wash his back, and by the time she got to the silky soft skin at the base of his spine, he wasn’t sobbing anymore. As if afraid to break a spell, he held stone-still as she reached forward to wash his chest. The fine layer of hair felt like damp silk, and his nipples hardened under her touch. When she explored his stomach with the pads of her fingertips, his skin flinched. Ticklish. She could feel him relaxing, the tension and grief easing under her touch. Avoiding more dangerous territory, she knelt to run the soap down the backs of his thighs and calves. He flinched again when she explored the soft creases behind his knees. Eager to touch his hair, she stood and picked up the shampoo. Squeezing a dollop from the bottle onto her palm, she reached up to massage his scalp. When his thick, brown hair was covered with white foam, she took his head in her hands and guided it into the spray. Once she’d rinsed away the last of the shampoo, he finally moved of his own volition. Shifting so his back rested against the tiles, he handed her the soap. At first, she thought he meant to wash her, but then she realized he just wanted to watch. His eyes were red from crying -- which didn’t make the experience of having a man watch her shower any less unsettling. She soaped away the mud, sweat, and other bodily fluids, and then shampooed her hair. Wet, her hair reached her tailbone, and Matt seemed to find it irresistible. Though he hadn’t tried to touch even when she’d washed her breasts, now he reached out to run his fingers over her sodden hair. “Pretty.” The word, issued in a hoarse whisper, played across her senses. Would he want sex now? Or simple comfort? Would he want to talk? Go to sleep? When she tipped her head back to rinse off, he answered the question by stepping over the rim of the tub and picking up a towel. Quickly, she finished washing and turned off the water. He was gone by the time she found a comb in the medicine cabinet, but hushed voices drifted in from the bedroom. With a black towel secured at her chest, she took a deep breath and opened the door. Kenji lay stretched out on the far side of the bed, naked except for black cotton boxers. Matt lay curled on his side with a sheet draped across his hips, and a tray piled with sandwiches and cans of soda formed a barrier between them.

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“Sorry, I left your things out in the shed with the bike. One of us could go out if you need them.” Matt propped his chin on his palm. He looked too weary to cross the room, let alone venture outside. Seeing as she’d sooner die than ask Kenji for a favor, and she had no inclination to break through their wards and tread through the forest half naked, she shook her head. “We can get my stuff in the morning.” With the grace of a witch both comfortable in his own skin and deeply attuned to the world around him, Kenji rose and pulled open a drawer built into the base of the oak bed. “Here, catch.” He threw her a folded shirt -- crisp, white, and scented with lavender. “Thanks.” Without removing the towel, she shook out the shirt, slid her arms into the ridiculously long sleeves, and secured the buttons. Only then did she wriggle out of the towel and drape it over the doorknob. The shirt hung partway down her thighs, and she had to roll the sleeves several times to free her hands. “Hungry?” When Matt patted the space beside him, the glimmer in his eyes suggested he realized the implications of asking her to join them on the bed. Never one to turn down a challenge, she settled beside him. It had been hours since their fast-food lunch, and she tore into the tuna sandwich, chips, and soda. Matt barely picked at his food. Kenji’s plate was empty, and he propped a book on his knees. Curious, she leaned forward but couldn’t quite catch the title. Books were her worst addiction. With a cool smile, Kenji tilted the cover to reveal an ornate scrawl. “You can explore the shelves while you’re here. I’ve got an interesting collection of spell books.” His tone held a not altogether friendly reminder that she was the guest, and he the gracious host. She might be a guest here, but she was a reluctant one. Kenji’s assurance that Sorren would see to her family’s safety was comforting. But the fact remained, her mother didn’t have much time left, and Lena needed to be there at the end. Shoving the tray of empty plates away from her, she flopped onto her back at the end of the bed and stared at the ceiling. If he sensed her mood change, Matt didn’t give any indication of concern. Lena glanced over at him only to discover him lost in his own thoughts, his fingers stroking the hair on Kenji’s forearm. Kenji moved his leg, drawing Lena’s attention. His gaze caught hers, and he studied her with wolfish intensity. Lena shivered, uncomfortable under his prolonged scrutiny.

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Chapter Five “I’m sorry. Matt’s brought friends here before, but like I said earlier, never another witch.” With a shrug, Kenji let his book drop and settled against the pillows. Matt gave Kenji a look she couldn’t decipher, then turned to her. “C’mere.” He sat up and gestured for her to lean back against him. Her first instinct was to run for the couch, but the thought of crazed vigilantes looking for witches made her nervous enough to seek safety in numbers. Wards were nice, but no magic was foolproof. Besides, the deep psychic connection she’d formed with Matt during the pentacle rite tugged at her like a web of silken threads, and she couldn’t summon the energy to fight it. Easing toward him, she leaned back against the warmth of his chest. Though a blue cotton sheet covered the lower part of his body, when she settled into his lap she realized he hadn’t bothered to tug on so much as a pair of boxers after his shower. Ignoring the press of his erection against her bottom, she held perfectly still and glanced toward Kenji. “So Matt owns a nursery and garden center -- what do you do?” Bless it, one naked, aroused guy and one jealous friend in one big bed, and all she could come up with was small talk? “I have a rare-book shop in Ann Arbor.” Flipping onto his side, Kenji gave Matt a warning glance, and Matt removed his fingers from the vicinity of Lena’s breast. “The shop’s a front for his real business. He sells arcane texts, spells, and rare artifacts for rituals.” Matt slid his hand along Lena’s thigh. Frowning, Kenji sat up, his black boxers revealing far too much long, lean muscle for Lena’s comfort. Heavy lashes shaded his deep brown eyes as he glanced down at Matt’s hands, folded across Lena’s stomach.

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Summoning a globe of yellow light over his palm, Kenji tossed it in the air and caught it like a child playing with a ball. “You’ll need to call Aaron in the morning so he can start planting.” His words rippled with undisguised frustration and anger. With a muttered curse, Matt shifted Lena off his lap. “Let me loan you enough to get through the season. There’s no reason you have to give up and --” Matt rose and paced the length of the room, and Lena felt like a voyeur caught in the middle of what seemed to be a familiar argument. Nude and breathtaking in the yellow violet light of the glow spheres, Matt reminded her of a cornered cougar. “No. I’ll do it on my own. If I have to sell, I’ll take the money and buy more land when I’m able.” His fists clenched at his sides revealed the depth of his anger. When Kenji stood and reached for Matt’s arm, Lena did the only thing she could think of to prevent this from coming to blows. Kindling her own cerulean orb of light, she tossed it toward the ceiling and caught Kenji’s eye. “What would happen if the three of us replayed the power trick Matt and I tried earlier?” She caught the glow sphere and tossed it up again. “Most likely, nothing. I wasn’t paired with you during the rite. The connection’s not there.” Matt snorted and sat at the end of the bed. “You anchored, though. And you and I have a connection.” Holding out his palm, he called the violet sphere from the bowl beside the bed and spun it over his hand. Eyebrow raised, Lena glanced at Kenji. “Scared to try?”

***** Kenji knew she was baiting him, but what the hell. It was better than him and Matt getting into a wrestling match -- the kind that ended in bruises rather than sex -- and bless it, he was curious. “On three, then.” Settling back by the headboard, Kenji balanced the yellow orb on a fingertip. Didn’t it figure they were both cool colors -- her sky blue to Matt’s dusky violet -and his own was fire. Yellow as the sun and hot as noon. “One.” Kenji frowned as Matt tugged Lena close beside him on the bed. He knew he couldn’t keep Matt to himself forever. They were too different to be anything more than friends and lovers. But damned if he could stand for the little witch with moonlight-pale hair to have him, either. He saw Matt ending up with someone outdoorsy, rough around the edges, and 100 percent human. “Two.” Because that was one part of Matt he could claim -- the magic -- one part he intended keep for himself. By the Horned God, he’d be the only witch in Matt’s life.

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“Three.” Putting all his frustration into the throw, he launched his ball of light toward the ceiling. Matt’s orb traveled just as high, leaving a violet streak in its wake. Not to be outdone, Lena somersaulted her globe upward until it skittered against the bare wooden ceiling. For a moment, the three lights hovered over their respective witches. With a sense of satisfaction, he registered the fact that his presence canceled out the magnetic pull between Matt’s and Lena’s powers. Then, with a startled yell, Matt flattened himself on his back on the bed. “Shit!” He reached up, as if to call his orb back to his hand, but it was too late. In a rush of yellow and blue, the other two globes raced toward Matt’s shimmering orb of violet light. Lena grabbed Matt’s hand. Bracing himself, Kenji pressed his face to his friend’s shoulder. The force of impact flattened the wind out of his chest, and Kenji closed his eyes against the blinding flash. A roaring conflagration of desire traveled along his spine and snapped his cock to attention. Whimpering, he twisted to rub against the sheets, his eyes screwed tightly shut. On the heels of the initial shock waves, images and sounds battered his thoughts. None of Matt’s memories were a surprise. Scenes of Donielle coming home drunk and slapping Matt around when he was a kid, of her “dates” hassling him, of the cushy Ann Arbor condo they lived in when she moved from streetwalker to mistress. The fragments matched what Matt had told him over the years. The bits that rocked him and left him struggling for solid ground came from Lena. Although he shook his head to chase away the scattered visions, sequences from her life flashed through his mind, complete with sound and color. Shit, he didn’t want to know her. Didn’t want to get close. You can’t freeze someone out if you start caring. The images of her sitting at her mother’s bedside, tubes and wires all over the place, were no surprise. Childhood arguments and midnight talks with her sister, camping trips with her dad, the choking grief at her dad’s funeral, flashes of sexual encounters -- they left him feeling like a voyeur. But the child’s-eye view of Lena crouching in a closet, her lips smudged with her mom’s lipstick, high-heeled shoes dwarfing her tiny feet, and her face hot with silent tears knocked the wind right out of him. He saw her watch her parents through the crack in the closet door. Her father wept, but her mother’s face was hard. “I try. I try so hard to let it go. But every time I look at her, I see his face”-- her mother curled her knees to her chest -- “and I hear myself whimpering, helpless. I worry she’ll be tainted -- that her magic will bear his mark. I want to love her, Nate, goddess knows I do…” Half panicked, Kenji kindled another glow sphere and set it in the bowl on the bedside table, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision. Heat radiated off Matt’s naked body, and his

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fingers clawed at the sheets as if he were drowning. His balls were drawn up so tight it had to hurt. Next to him, Lena lay on her side, eyes closed, body loose and limp. When Kenji touched her shoulder, she didn’t respond. Frightened, he crawled across Matt and lifted her into a half-sitting position against his chest. Trying to rouse her, he patted her cheek, and when she whimpered and moved against him, his relief was so strong it left him breathless. “Lena, hey. You with us?” Her eyelids fluttered when he touched her face, her lashes so pale they were almost translucent. Fuck. As much as he didn’t want her here, he couldn’t help but feel protective of the little girl whose mother couldn’t love her. The warmth of her skin pressed against him where the borrowed shirt rode up to expose her thighs, and he cursed under his breath when his body responded with a pleading drop of moisture on the tip of his cock.

***** Trembling, Lena tried to pull herself together in the aftermath of the psychic explosion. She didn’t know what else to call the force of their combined magic, the assault of three sets of memories mingled in a fragmented mess. Kenji held her tight, but she struggled to reach for Matt. She could hear his breathing, ragged and desperate, and it seemed imperative that she ease his pain. Except her arms and legs refused to cooperate. When she tried to move, a fuzzy, black haze clouded the edges of her vision, and she let her head drop back against Kenji’s chest. “Help him.” Matt’s groans were growing more desperate, and the bed shook as he arched and writhed beside them, seeking but not finding release. “You know what you’re asking?” Slowly, as if he was reluctant to touch her more than he had to, Kenji brushed long strands of hair away from her face. “Yes.” Whatever just happened, Matt had been at the center of it, linked to them both from the start, bombarded by their power. The psychic explosion must have hit him with even more force. Her own thighs were damp with need, and she’d take him herself if she could move without feeling weak and dizzy. They’d gained more than fragments of memory just now, and whatever power she’d absorbed wreaked havoc with her equilibrium. If being a reluctant witness to Kenji and Matt’s lovemaking was the worst that came out of what they’d just done, she’d count herself lucky. “You ever see anything like what you’re asking me to do?” Kenji cupped his palm under Matt’s chin to soothe him, and with the other hand he traced circles on Lena’s back.

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“Mmm, sure, all the time. After a long day at work, what I like best is to invite a couple of guys over and watch them have sex.” Goddess, could he just get on with things before Matt hurt himself? “I meant have you watched any blue movies? I don’t want to frighten you.” Sliding her off his lap and onto the mattress, Kenji arched his neck over Matt’s face and bent to kiss his brow. Stifling a sigh of exasperation, she shook her head, regretting the move when it sent her brain sloshing against her skull and bile rose in her throat. “I’m a children’s librarian, and although that’s hardly synonymous with ‘blushing virgin,’ this is going to be a new experience for me. Just don’t shake the bed too much until the room stops tilting and spinning around me.” “Sorry.” As Kenji moved on top of Matt and kissed him in earnest, Lena didn’t think he meant he was sorry about shaking the bed. Unwilling to be pushed aside as an indifferent observer, she caught Matt’s hand and held tight. He traced his thumb along her wrist, and Lena’s worry eased at the simple touch. Kenji’s black curls fell around Matt’s face, and Matt’s hair spread out in a mass of autumn brown against the blue sheets. She reached up and captured a strand of Kenji’s curls and rubbed the texture across her fingertips. When Matt shifted out from under Kenji, Lena inadvertently tugged Kenji’s hair, and he growled a warning. Drawing her hand back as if she’d been stung, she decided maybe the role of dispassionate observer was safer. In a fluid motion, Matt caught Kenji around the middle and rolled him onto his back, then tugged Kenji’s boxers down over his slender hips to reveal his rock-hard erection stretching up toward his navel. Somehow, she expected the more powerful witch to fight being on the bottom, but when Matt slid his golden skin across Kenji’s cinnamon mocha thighs, Kenji arched his neck and bared his throat. The submissive gesture sent darts of searing need from Lena’s belly to her breasts and clit, and she panted at the unexpected sensations. So much for dispassionate. When Matt lowered himself and ran his tongue along the exposed curve of Kenji’s neck, Lena made a small mewling noise. Kenji muttered what sounded like a curse and grabbed her hand. Comforted by the contact, she held on and rode the rising current of desire. “Wait.” Matt’s voice sounded gravely and rough. He started to pull away, but Kenji snagged an arm around his waist and pulled him back. At first she thought Matt planned to go after a condom, which made no sense, since witches were immune to disease. Except, of course, genetic conditions and cancer -- she grimaced at the reminder of her mother’s suffering.

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But when Kenji arched his hips and moaned, “Don’t need any -- please -- now,” she realized Matt had meant to get some lubricant. Her one aborted attempt at anal sex had included better than half a tube of K-Y jelly, and it still hurt. Holding Kenji’s hand tighter, she wondered what she’d gotten herself into. Not that Kenji was her favorite person -- his asinine assumption that she’d want to whisk Matt away and keep him for herself ticked her off to no end -- but she couldn’t stand for Matt to hurt him. Gritting her teeth, she prepared for the worst. But when Kenji canted his hips forward and braced his ankles on Matt’s shoulders, the sounds the two men made had nothing to do with pain. Unable to stifle her curiosity, she allowed herself a quick glance downward and caught a visual that registered strongly in the too-much-information category. Kenji let go of her hand and cradled his palm under the arch of her neck, and the unexpected tenderness of the gesture triggered a rush of emotion and a wave of heat. The bed rocked with their movements, and Matt groaned something unintelligible. A moment later, Kenji gasped, and his hand tightened against the nape of her neck. His face a mask of pleasure and pain, Kenji screwed his eyes shut and wrinkled his brow. Matt had his eyes closed, too, head thrown back, his wavy brown hair trailing across his shoulders. Matt’s arm muscles bunched tight as he braced himself to keep his weight off Kenji, and he quickened the rhythm of his movements. “Now. Shit, now.” “Not yet…”

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Chapter Six Kenji’s protest was cut off by Matt’s guttural yell. With a groan, Matt eased Kenji’s ankles off his shoulders and settled his friend’s legs on the mattress. Then his arms gave out, and he lowered himself onto Kenji’s chest. “Sorry.” Matt didn’t sound sorry. Very tired and sated, but not the least bit sorry. The tension rising off Kenji crackled through the room, and Lena found herself inching involuntarily closer to the two sweaty bodies. Sliding his hand out from under her neck, Kenji cuffed Matt’s shoulder. “Finish with Lena. I’m done in.” Matt groaned. “Fuck, I haven’t lost control like that since I was fifteen.” Sliding out from under Matt, Kenji flopped onto his belly. When Kenji started shaking gently, she wondered if he was sobbing, but when Matt dug his elbow into Kenji’s ribs, his laughter spilled over. “One comment about how fast I finished, and you’re a dead man.” Although the words were directed at Kenji, Matt caught Lena’s eye, and the fire in his gaze could have melted steel. Oh, crap. That’s why he’d come so fast. Not from the aftermath of their magical mishap, but because she was in bed with them. She’d thought he’d been joking about Kenji finishing with her, but the need in Matt’s haunting, amber brown eyes told her she’d been wrong. He was dead serious. Stalling, she shifted her attention to the tantalizing curve of Kenji’s backside. A tattoo of a pentacle covered the base of his spine, and she reached over and placed her finger on the apex of the star. “Spirit.” Surprised at her audacity, she waited to see if he’d shove her hand away.

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Instead, Kenji held stone-still, hardly breathing. Moving her finger to the right, she touched the next point. “Water.” His skin flinched under her touch, and she wondered if he was ticklish. When he continued to lie still, she moved her finger lower. “Fire.” Craving safety, or at least a false sense of security, she let her power gather around her in a shimmering cloak. Matt made a soft, purring sound as he shifted onto his side to watch her. Moving her hand to the left, she touched the next point of the pentagram. “Earth.” This time, Kenji didn’t flinch when she touched his back, but a low sound escaped from his throat. Gathering courage, she touched the next point. “Air.” Returning to the top of the tattoo, she traced her fingertip around the circle of the pentacle. When she reached the peak again, her power settled in a sphere around them, and the last of her dizziness eased away. Lena hadn’t formed a circle when they’d made love in the shallow cave, even though it would have provided a protective shield. And neither had Matt. Making love in a circle was -- intimate. Too intimate for what they had together. What they had was some crazy bond following a powerful rite, and when they figured out how to break it, they would. So why -- other than her fascination with Kenji’s tattoo -- had she let her power fall into a shimmering bubble around them now, inside the safely warded cabin? Before she could explore her motives, Matt sat up and piled pillows against the headboard, then grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against his chest. For an instant, her instincts urged her to struggle, but something deep inside wanted to be right where she was, with her head pressed against his shoulder and her bottom tucked against the damp warmth of his lap. But when Kenji sat up, she swallowed hard at the reminder that only one of them had been satisfied. “Why’d you form a circle?” Kenji’s eyes seemed to peel away layers of truth, probing into dark corners Lena would have opted to keep hidden. “I wanted to feel safe.” She shifted against Matt’s chest, and he stroked the side of her jaw, soothing her with his touch. “Why?” Kenji ran his tongue along his lips, the small gesture revealing his hunger. When she didn’t answer, Matt reached for Kenji’s hand and pulled him forward until he crouched over Lena’s knees. Sandwiched between them, she wondered what part of her had wanted to be in a sealed space with two witches -- one of them still hungry. “Why, Lena?” With two fingers, Kenji lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Because I want to forget? To block out everything ugly that’s hunting us? Because last night blew away all my expectations of what’s normal. Because I don’t want to think about what I saw when our light globes exploded into each other -- the things I know about Matt’s mother, the things you know about…”

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Her breath caught in a sob. Had they both seen? Did they know her worst secret? “Why are you ashamed of something that happened to your mother before you were even born? Something you had no control over?” Kenji’s voice was low and soothing. “No! No more questions.” When she shook her head, Matt reached forward and grasped Kenji’s shoulder, as if to warn him off. “It’s okay. I’ll let it rest.” Shoving Matt’s hand aside, Kenji touched the curve of Lena’s breast. “But answer one more -- this one’s important. Do you want to finish this way? If we do this, it has to be because you want to.” “I was here, too, you know. Whatever pulled us in when our power combined tugged me under as well. I’m” -- goddess, this was going to sound crude -- “as wet, as hot, and as desperate as you are.” At least that elicited a laugh. Dropping his hand from her breast, Kenji grabbed her wrists and raised her hands to his face. Unsure what he was after, she traced his cheekbones, the curve of his eyebrows, his lips, the smooth skin of his eyelids. Something tight and frightened inside her let go, like a coil of rope unwinding and falling free. “Your name -- Kenji -- that’s Japanese, isn’t it?” If she took a few minutes to talk to him as if he were a normal person, rather than the anchor who’d dragged molten energy through her pores during last night’s ritual, maybe this would be easier. “Mmm-hmm. My mom can trace her ancestors back to Senegal, but my dad’s parents are from Kyoto. I spent a lot of time in Japan with them when I was a kid.” “Your grandparents -- they’re both still alive?” Translation, they’re both witches? Tilting his head, Kenji bent to nuzzle her neck. He rested his hand on Matt’s shoulder, including both of them in his embrace. “Ninety-something and going strong. And yeah, they’re both witches.” Matt cupped his hand at her side, playing his fingers over the smoothness of her skin. “No questions for me?”

Sure, a million. From what she’d seen in those few dizzying minutes she’d been tangled with their thoughts, Matt might just be the one person out there with a childhood more twisted than her own. But she didn’t want to go there right now. “Maybe later. Right now, I’m trying to figure out how Kenji feels about me.” Bending his head so his face snuggled just above her breasts, Kenji groaned. “Sorry about the mixed signals. Look, I can’t not like someone Matt cares about.” With a shake of her head, she shifted sideways, trying to slide out from between them. Not good enough. For a few minutes, she’d thought Kenji cared about her enough to be a friend. Wanting her because Matt liked her wasn’t good enough by half. “Wait, Lena, that didn’t come out the way I meant it.” Trapping her wrists between his hands, Kenji settled her in Matt’s lap. “You waltz into my life, capture Matt’s devotion, and turn my world upside down --”

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“Okay, if that’s what you meant to say, we’re done.” Struggling against Kenji’s iron grip on her wrists, she twisted and gave Matt an entreating look. “Sorry, I’m not stupid enough to get in the middle of this.” Matt scrunched his eyebrows in sympathy, but he didn’t move to free her from Kenji’s grasp. “Let me finish.” Moving closer, Kenji rested his ass on her thighs. Any closer, and his cock would press against her belly. “You turn my world upside down -- as if your famehungry roommate, a dead witch in Colorado, Matt’s worry about losing his business, and the specter of an all-out witch hunt weren’t enough to fuck with my life -- and yet, I can’t not like you.” Releasing her wrists, he cupped his hands on each side of her face. “You’re beautiful, like spun moonlight, but that’s not it. And you’re Matt’s, which makes you doubly attractive to me, but that’s not it, either.” At her protest, he slid his fingers to cover her mouth. “I said, let me finish. Fact is, you’ve fallen into my life like an injured kitten, frantic to get back to the dying mother who never did right by you. And no, that’s not all of it, either. You’ve got so much power running through your veins, the witch in me wants to lap you up like milk and honey. You’re fresh, sassy, and quick to get angry. You love books -- and you’re falling in love with Matt.” This time she squirmed away from him before he could silence her protest. “Why in the name of Brighid do you think I’m here to take Matt away from you?” So mad she was almost spitting, she shoved him before she could resist the impulse. “I don’t have relationships. I have friends, lovers, even fuck-buddies. But not relationships.” When Matt lowered his head behind her, resting his forehead on her shoulder, she winced. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. They were trapped here under just about the worst conditions imaginable, and with the world as they knew it coming unglued around them, normal emotions got distorted into something bigger, more important. “Okay, you like me, and despite my better judgment, I like you. Let’s do this.” The last thing Lena wanted to do at this point was talk all night. When that brought a snort of laughter from Kenji, the tension in her shoulders loosened its hold. Here she was, sandwiched between two naked men, her thighs slick with her own juices, and her nipples beaded into tight little knots of hunger. If she hadn’t been so standoffish about making sure Kenji’s intentions included more than a casual fuck, she and he could both be a lot more comfortable by now. “One more thing.” Kenji frowned. “You won’t admit what you have -- maybe you don’t even know yet -- but promise me you and Matt won’t shut me out. Not completely.” The naked fear in his voice brought her up short. For a second, she didn’t just like Kenji, she adored him -- wanted to cradle him in her arms like a child and convince him she’d never steal the one who mattered most to him. But the terrifying flip side of that

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moment in time was the recognition that she felt even more strongly about Matt. Goddess help her, did the bond formed during the pentacle rite -- a connection burned so deep into her soul she felt like she’d known Matt forever -- leave her any sort of an out? Could she walk away without breaking in two? And then, quicker than she could take a few panicked breaths, she realized the power unleashed when their glow spheres collided and merged still held them within its grasp. Not to mention the fact that they were naked in bed together, and she’d spun a circle of energy around them like a silken web, magnifying feelings that would otherwise have been subtler, gentler. Grief fueled emotions like dry wood in a forest fire, and amidst all the guilt and anger directed at her mother, there was grief. Deep, drowning, raging grief. Add her terror that her world was spinning out of control, and it was no wonder her feelings toward Matt -- and Kenji, for that matter -- were blown all out of proportion. “I wouldn’t hurt you like that, Kenji. Not ever.” So why, as he took her in his arms and kissed her lips, did she feel a hint of untruth in that simple statement? Matt slid his hands under her ass, raising her hips toward Kenji. If she was going to back out of this, now was her last chance. But when Kenji took handfuls of her mist-pale hair and draped it over his shoulders so that it cascaded down his back, she couldn’t have pulled away if the fate of Gaia herself depended on it. Against his brown skin, her hair shone like a harvest moon. His eyes were closed, and he trembled as he grasped her hips and pressed the tip of his erection against her. “You’re sure?” How much did it cost him to give her one last chance to back out? “Yes.” It occurred to her that maybe they should make sure Matt was okay with this too. But seeing as he hummed softly under his breath, and he’d grown hard again despite his insistence that he was done in, she figured he didn’t object to watching. Which was her last coherent thought, because Kenji slid his hands between her back and Matt’s chest, held on tight, and buried every inch of his rigid length inside her. He hit her sweet spot on the first pass, and she mewed under him like a cat in heat. She wanted to thrash around, fling her arms wide, and dig her heels into his back. But Matt draped his legs over hers -- leaving her wide open -- and trapped her between their bodies. With the next thrust, Kenji paused, stretching her so tight the scorch of passion bordered on tearing pain, and she wondered if Kenji felt like this when Matt filled his ass. “Yes,” Kenji whispered in her ear, “and no. More. So much more.” With a shudder, she tried to imagine what it was like for him, both aroused and frightened by the fact that he liked the edge, the pain that came with the pleasure. And then

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it hit her that he’d been in her head, knew not only what she was thinking, but what she was feeling. Her eyes flew open in surprise, and she twisted around to see Matt. “Can he do that to you too? Get in your head?” Matt let out a gruff sound that indicated he didn’t like it much more than she did. “Yeah. Mostly during sex, when we’re pressed so close there’s no room for privacy.” When Kenji withdrew until she feared he’d pull out altogether, then lunged forward so hard and fast she cried out when their pelvic bones ground together, she was more than willing to forget her privacy had been violated. But Matt touched her cheek to get her attention, and his warning turned her blood cold. “He’ll walk your dreams, too, once he gets to know you well enough.”

Oh, holy Hecate, a dream walker! If she’d known, she wouldn’t have come within five yards of having sex with him. Panic gripped her, and her body went rigid under his weight. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” She’d been sixteen before she’d learned to keep her mother out of her dreams. Before she’d been able to keep her mother’s horrific nightmares from becoming her own. Before she’d learned to hide her own pitiful dreams of loss and rejection. Her mother had never gained control over her power to walk people’s dreams -- more of a curse than a gift, in her case -- so it was up to Lena to learn to guard her sleep. “I can control it, Lena. I won’t hurt you. I swear it.” Trembling, Kenji brushed his face against hers. “When you don’t want me in your dreams, put a sprig of ash under your pillow, and I’ll know to stay away.” Arching back, he bent to take her nipple in his mouth, sucking so gently she relaxed under the caress of his tongue. As he played her nipple between his teeth, her fear melted away. “But you should know it can be beautiful too. Better than this,” he swirled his tongue around the taut ring of her areola, “better than anything you can imagine. When you want it, it’s wonderful, being together in your dreams. It doesn’t have to be a nightmare.” Her heart sped up again, and she shook her head. Just the thought of having someone invade her sleep made her want to curl up in a ball and bury her head against her knees. “Shh. I’m sorry. I don’t want to frighten you. There’s an ash tree behind the cabin. I’ll cut a sprig for you before we go to sleep tonight. I promise -- your dreams will be your own.” Blinking so he wouldn’t notice her tears, she nodded. “I overreacted. Please, let’s just…” Finish this. As he moved his hips in a spiraling motion, her world came unglued at the seams, and she forgot how to think.

Heat. Stretching, wet heat. Matt’s teeth sharp against her shoulder. Matt’s arms strong around her, making her feel safe, rather than restrained. The urgent noises Kenji made as he

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drove himself deeper, deeper, and deeper again, growling with his mouth pressed close to her ear. The brush of Kenji’s curls against her face and shoulders, warm and as fragrant as a field of wild lavender. The pounding of his heart as he crushed the weight of his chest into her breasts. The pounding of Matt’s heart against her spine. A fierce yell built up inside her, spilled out as Kenji rubbed relentlessly against the spot that drove her wild. The circle she’d woven around them while she’d explored the pentacle inked above Kenji’s tailbone reflected their passion back at them. Driving them helplessly higher. Echoing hunger, need, lust, love. “Now! Please, now!” Arching until she felt as if she’d split in half, she ground against him, rubbing until her clit throbbed and stung from the friction. “Shh. It’ll happen. Let yourself float.” Considering whether she should smack him or kiss him before he had the chance to say anything else so stupid, she let out a desperate groan. But when he slowed his pace and brushed his lips across her eyelids, something inside her floated free. The strange feeling of detachment lasted so long she wondered if he’d bespelled her when she wasn’t paying attention, but it felt so warm and peaceful, like floating in salt water, she didn’t protest. When a telltale yellow aura formed around Kenji’s head and shoulders, her suspicions were confirmed. But Matt didn’t seem alarmed. If anything, his breathing quickened in response to whatever magic his friend was playing with, his breath hot and warm against her ear. Giving herself to the moment, she enjoyed the sensation of handing over control. Most likely a result of his magic. She never let anyone else take charge. But when it felt this good, who the hell cared? “Ride it. Like a rising wave.” Kenji’s voice brushed across her senses, low and thick with desire. Her movements adjusted to match his, like two pieces of driftwood tossing on the waves, floating in a saffron pool of power. He was sunshine and yellow grass, sunset reflecting on ocean waves, forsythia and dandelions, all mixed up in the confusing scent of lavender, watermarked books, and candle wax. Deep in her belly, a mass of warmth formed and grew until it flooded her senses, leaving her arms limp and her head lolling helplessly against Matt’s shoulder. And still she felt no fear. The faint halo of saffron spread until it outlined Kenji’s entire body, then blossomed outward to encompass her and Matt. At the moment his power closed around them, her senses ripped loose from reality and curled into a ball the size of a pinprick, then exploded outward to cover the world. Mixing

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her own magic with Kenji’s, she twined the soft blue of twilight around them, and then she felt Matt add the caress of water. Cool, pure, violet ripples under the kiss of gathering dusk. Then she plummeted back into her body, crying out as her climax crested and twisted her into a knot of shuddering, aching release. Kenji’s cry matched her own strangled shout, and Matt joined them with an exultant yell as he came, hot and wet against her back. When the intensity of her orgasm eased to the point where she could draw a full breath, she shivered at the sensation of warm cum trickling down her thigh. By the time the three of them collapsed in a heap of tangled limbs -- drowsy, spent, and relaxed to the point of helplessness -- she couldn’t tell where they ended and she began. No one spoke as the remnants of their power ebbed away, and she raised her hand in a simple gesture to release the circle. After a while, Kenji pulled out and shifted his weight off her, tugging her down beside him. Matt abandoned the mound of pillows supporting his back and spooned his body against hers. When Kenji sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, Matt grunted in surprise. “Be right back. I’m going out back to cut an ash branch for Lena.” No endearment, no expression of friendship or affection, could mean more to her than his willingness to venture from the warm bed and fetch a sprig of ash so she could sleep without fear.

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Chapter Seven “Going hunting?” Still groggy from oversleeping, Lena studied the knives laid out on the big oak table next to their leather sheaths, then grabbed a donut from the open box. In his leather jacket, Harley Davidson T-shirt, and threadbare jeans, Matt had the air of someone who wanted to pick a fight. “Sorren called. They’ve located Skyler and Giorgio -that poor guy sure chose the wrong witch to get mixed up with.” When Kenji slammed a half-full backpack down on the table, Lena revaluated her conclusions about who was looking for a fight. “Don’t change the subject.” In tight black jeans and a crisp, blue gray striped shirt, Kenji looked downright edible. And mad as hell. Like Matt, he’d pulled his hair back with a band of leather, and without curls to soften his face, there was nothing to hide his anger. “Just answering Lena’s question.” Matt slid one of the knives into its sheath and strapped the whole deal to his belt. Figuring now wasn’t the time to point out that the news about Sky and Giorgio didn’t explain why the table was littered with knives, she retreated to the sofa. “Let. Me. Help. If you give up now --” “Damn it, I’m not giving up!” Whirling on Kenji, Matt pounded a fist into his palm. “But it makes no sense to plant a nursery full of saplings when I don’t know how things will play out. Telling Aaron to focus on seasonal plants covers my ass, either way.” Glancing over at the couch, Matt raised an eyebrow at Lena. “Kenji has issues with my business strategy.” Refusing to be drawn into the fight, Lena polished off her donut, walked across the room, and picked up a yellowed book someone left open on the couch. Her fingers tingled as she turned the pages. No one needed to tell her it belonged to Kenji. Fire magic.

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“You’ll need to get dressed soon. We’re heading out first thing.” Apparently having decided to ignore Matt, Kenji smiled at Lena. “You look damn sexy in my silk robe, but we’ve got to pull Skyler and Giorgio out of a nest of northern Wisconsin survivalists.” That got her attention. Somehow, when Matt informed her Sorren’s people had located Sky and the other witch, she’d assumed the rescue was underway. At least the knives made sense now, though she disapproved. “We’re not exactly the FBI.” “Not by half, but do you want to be the one to call the police and inform them that a Wisconsin paramilitary organization is holding a couple of witches, and we want them back?” Matt grabbed the backpack Kenji had abandoned, stalked into the kitchen, and started stuffing it with jars of peanut butter, crackers, canned fruit, and granola bars. When Kenji joined Matt in the small space and a shoving match ensued, Lena buried her nose in the book. Her life felt like a bad joke this week, and the rare spells provided a distraction. The stilted calligraphy made them difficult to read, but a hand-scribbled note on fire-scrying caught her interest. Ignoring the argument in the background, she brought the book over to the hearth. Laying a pile of kindling, she struck a match and watched the small fire jump to life. No doubt Kenji could kindle flame with a snap of his fingers, but she’d never had much skill with fire. Still, curiosity shivered through her like an irresistible force. Studying the spell, she wondered if Kenji had penned the note in the margin. She pressed her fingers together, following the sketch in the original text. With a whispered question, she waited. And there, glowing blue at the center of the flames in the stone fireplace, she watched an image of Serena form. Moving her fingers into the next position diagramed, she directed the image. The picture in the fire broadened to include her mother, hooked up to tubes and monitors. Serena had a paperback propped on her knee, and across the room sat a stranger -- a witch, judging by his aura. He must be one of the people Sorren had watching over her family. Startled by a hand on her shoulder, she dropped the book on the floor. The flames flared orange, and the image faded. Kenji muttered something in Latin, and the fire vanished. Only a bed of cold ashes remained. “I thought Matt was going to give me the most trouble today, but I guess I was wrong.” His fingers tightened on her shoulder until she shook her head in protest, and Kenji brought his face close to hers. “The spell you picked is harmless, but some things in that book are lethal if mishandled. Next time you want to learn a bit of fire magic, ask me.” Shrugging out from under his grasp, she stood and glared at him. “I wanted to know for certain if my mother and sister are all right. Seeing as I’ve never been able to work fire spells, I never dreamed I’d pull it off.” What in the name of the goddess was with that, anyway? Why should her gifts change now, at twenty-six, when witches rarely manifested new talents after the age of twelve? “The witch in the room with Mom and Serena, that’s one of Sorren’s people?”

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Backing away, Kenji nodded. “They’re safe, Lena. You can stop worrying.” He frowned, no doubt remembering her mother was dying, and sank down onto the couch. “Look, there’s no time for any of this. Here’s what we learned from Sorren.” He patted the soft leather beside him and gestured for Matt to join them. Lena sat at the far end, keeping her distance from Kenji, and Matt settled between them. He rested his hand on Lena’s knee and tilted his head toward the supplies on the table. “Sorren’s flying out to San Francisco -- taking along several witches to add to the circle that failed to contain the California fires. They’re repeating the ritual tonight. With the fires gaining ground and lives at stake, the witches involved agreed to risk another pentacle rite, despite the mess in Wisconsin.” “Which is why we’re on our own to bail out Sky and Giorgio.” Kenji leaned past Matt to reach for Lena’s hand, but she moved it out of his reach. “Sky’s story didn’t make any of the networks -- not even any major papers --” “But three tabloids picked up the report of a Wisconsin coven holding a forbidden, sexual rite to reverse the drought.” Matt scowled. “Which means every conspiracy theorist in the US knows there’s a super-coven out there messing with Mother Nature.” “The ones most likely to grab weapons, call out the dogs, and come after us.” At least the government didn’t buy the story. But Lena’s stomach clenched at the thought of miscellaneous crackpots lying in wait for witches. “Scientists are scrambling to be the first to offer a credible explanation for the increased rate of growth in Midwestern vegetation and the reversal of the weather patterns.” Finally capturing Lena’s hand, Kenji allowed a small grin and stroked his fingers across her palm. “I’m sure they’ll come up with something more reasonable than ten witches screwing in a clearing, and another three channeling the power.” “Back to your tiff with Kenji over your fire-scrying -- nice piece of work, by the way -Sorren mentioned he got a note to your sister that you’re safe and will be in touch as soon as you’re able. In the meantime, there are enough witches watching over your family to make sure the local nuts keep away from them.” Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. Sorren’s aid triggered an eerie recollection of the first time the elder witch had helped her family -- memories borrowed from her mother’s dreams. “Yesterday, when Matt and I stopped for lunch,” with a guilty wince, she wondered if Matt had shared tales of what else they’d done in the shallow cave, “someone was trailing us.” Matt finished her thought. “So our suspicion that some people will take the tabloid reports seriously seems grounded. And seeing as Sky and Giorgio are being held in northern Wisconsin, not too far from my place in Sparrow Ridge, we go in assuming people will be looking for us.”

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As she stood, figuring Matt and Kenji would be more likely to take her seriously if she changed into jeans and a shirt before they planned the rescue, Kenji slid his hands under the silk robe and pressed them against her thighs. Here came the part she’d been hoping to avoid. “Lena, last night…” “Look, we’ve got a long drive, and who knows what’ll happen to Sky and her friend before we get there.” Twisting away from Kenji’s grasp on her legs, she almost accomplished her escape before Matt caught her around the middle. “You don’t do the morning after very well, do you?” Humor twitched at the corners of Matt’s mouth, and he stood to kiss her. He smelled like soap and leather, an irresistible combination. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about Matt last night.” Frowning, Kenji shook his head. “I can get a bit -- territorial.” “In his half-assed way, he’s trying to tell you last night was hotter than hell. You’re not the only one without morning-after skills.” As Matt’s hand strayed from the small of her back to her ass, the raw need reflected in his eyes brought back images of everything they’d done together. “Right.” Breaking away, she headed toward the door. “I’ll grab the bag of clothes from the back of the bike, get dressed, and we’ll figure out how three witches can outwit a bunch of heavily armed survivalists.” “Stop!” As she approached the threshold, Matt lunged toward her. “Lena, the wards are --” Whatever Kenji started to say died away as she did a quick check, found the wards set to recognize her power, and stepped outside. “What the fuck?” Matt followed her through the door, with Kenji close behind. “Thanks for…” Noting Kenji’s startled expression and Matt’s mask of horror, she realized her assumption that they’d reset the wards to include her was off base. “I checked first -- really.” Sweet Brighid, it’s not like she’d rush through a potentially fatal spell without making sure it was set to let her pass. Shivering in the cool morning air, she sat on a flat stone and played her hand across a hosta plant that had sprung up overnight. “So if you didn’t rework the spell…” “Then whatever allowed you to work that fire spell earlier keyed the wards to recognize you, as well as me and Matt.” Squatting down, Kenji pointed to a sparrow pecking at the soil under a newly green spirea shrub. “You said Lena’s gifts are earth centered -- including the ability to charm critters.” Beckoning for Matt to join him, Kenji pointed at the bird. “If she could sweet-talk a hound dog on the hunt, I bet she’d be able to coax that bird onto her palm.” Glancing toward Lena for confirmation, he smiled when she nodded.

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“Come on, Matt, give it a try.” When Kenji raised an eyebrow, he may as well have added, “I dare you.” “Me?” Matt looked at his friend like he’d asked him to walk through a wall of stone. “Animals don’t like me. I think the energy crackling around me frightens them. My gift’s with plants -- not beasts.” “Humor me.” His eyes wide and expectant, Kenji waited. Extending his hand, Matt made a clucking sound at the small brown bird. It cocked its head, ruffled its wings, and took a tentative step. “Not sure what you’re trying to prove, but…” As the bird fluttered onto his open palm, whatever he’d been planning to say got lost in his surprise. “You’re trying to say our gifts got -- scrambled? -- when our magic combined and knocked us flat on our backs last night?” Her heart pounding, Lena pulled the silk robe tighter around her. “Not scrambled. Enhanced.” Kenji grinned. “And not just when our light globes collided. I think we finished the transfer afterward, when we…” “Right.” Shifting the bird onto a low branch, Matt stood and brushed dirt off the knees of his jeans. “Which is fascinating stuff, and maybe even useful, but right now we’ve got a couple of witches to pull out of a bad situation.” Flushing, Lena stalked down the path toward the shed, her bare feet padding against damp earth. And Matt said she didn’t do mornings-after well? He wouldn’t even let Kenji sum up just how they may have shared talents last night. In a red-hot, breath-stealing orgy of sensation and release, that’s how. If her suspicions were correct, the leather-clad biker was all bravado when it came to his nonchalance over his relationship with Kenji. In the light of day, she’d bet it ate him alive that she’d had sex with Kenji last night while he watched -- no matter how hot he’d been about it at the time. Running out of steam, she stopped shy of the shed and looked around. The tangle of green vines, budding trees, and woodland flowers took her breath away. On the heels of the exaltation that they’d accomplished so much in so little time followed an icy shadow of fear. Whoever held Sky and Giorgio believed in witches -- believed witches had done this. How in the name of the goddess were they supposed to go up against a fortified compound and free Sky and her friend without being captured themselves?

***** Shifting restlessly, Lena watched Matt head into the convenience store in search of coffee. She’d have preferred to do this whole thing in daylight, but of course, that wouldn’t be conducive to catching the fanatics off guard. So they’d timed their arrival so they drove

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into town near dusk. Their next stop would be to park just outside of town, to the west, and hike out to the compound. She’d voted against stopping, other than to fill the tank of Kenji’s BMW, but Kenji and Matt insisted that since they hadn’t slept much the last couple of nights, hot coffee was vital to the rescue operation. As Kenji pulled the car off to the side, her anxiety increased, and she turned in her seat to keep an eye on Matt. “Stop fidgeting.” Kenji unbuckled his seat belt and twisted sideways to face her. “Foresight’s not one of your gifts, is it?” A personal question and worded bluntly, but she had to know. “No.” “Not Matt’s, either?” “No. What are you getting at?” In the glare of the lights over the gas station, Kenji’s eyes looked almost black, and his lips narrowed into a frown. “Not mine, either. And what I’m getting at is, we’re about to hike into an armed compound of a fringe organization no one’s ever heard of -- except Sorren. Who, incidentally, didn’t even fill you in on how he managed to track down Sky and Giorgio.” Kenji leaned forward to rest his hand on her knee, but she shoved it away. At their insistence, he’d changed into scruffier jeans and one of Matt’s tattered T-shirts. With his hair tied back, the lines and angles of his face looked almost severe. When he dressed the part of the Ann Arbor businessman, he softened the edges of his power, like a snake concealing its fangs. Right now, there was no mistaking she sat next to one of the most powerful witches in North America. The smell of arcane texts, citrus, and candle wax clouded her senses, and his fingers drummed out a rhythm on the steering wheel as if he itched to cast a spell. “Look, if we’re talking about outcomes, foresight is one of Sorren’s talents -- so strong and true to the mark that in the past I’ve picked up visions just from being in close proximity to him. And he wouldn’t send us in to do this if he thought everything would go to hell around us. The only people I trust more than Sorren are Matt and my family.” Kenji leaned forward until she had her back pressed against the door of the passenger side to avoid touching him. “I don’t care if Sorren got his information through his web of contacts or in a fucking crystal ball. I’d think you’d be a little more grateful he managed to track down your roommate. Or, for that matter, that Matt and I are willing to help you pull her out of the mess she got herself into.” Stung, Lena released her seat belt and tucked her knees up to her chest, creating a barrier between them. “You need to know I don’t share your blind trust in Sorren. And you’re not here to help Sky, or me. You’re here at his request.” Shivering in the rain-cooled air, she tugged the old leather jacket Matt had loaned her closer around her, enjoying the

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smell of pine and apple orchards. Arguing with Kenji might keep her mind off the task at hand, but it wasn’t worth the price. “Look, I’m sorry. There’s some history with Sorren and my family. He --” Catching a glimpse of Matt out of the corner of her eye, she bit back a curse. “Heads up. Matt’s in trouble.” Two men trailed after him as he left the convenience store. As he walked toward the car, stepping around puddles left by the recent storm, the men stepped forward, one to each side of him. She wasn’t sure if Matt’s leather jacket and cap gave him a peculiarly lethal look tonight, or if it was a trick of the light. His stride was confident to the point of being cocky, and she could have sworn he winked at her. The man to Matt’s left was tall and thin, his face pockmarked from the ravages of teenage acne. But she noticed a glint of metal in his hand that she suspected wasn’t a key ring. The other man was all bulk and muscle, and his nose looked like it had been broken a few times in bar fights. Kenji climbed out of the car so fast she hardly saw him move. Ignoring Kenji’s directive to stay in the car, she stepped out and walked around to stand beside him. Casually, Kenji nodded to Matt as he crossed the lot. “Thought you’d decided to drink my coffee yourself.” “Hey, Lena, could you put these in the car?” As he approached, Matt held out the cardboard tray with three large coffees. Though his hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck, loose strands curled around his face and shoulders, set free in the humid air. She set the tray on the hood of the car and held her ground. Most likely the strangers were local troublemakers, and they’d pegged Matt as a city boy because of Kenji’s damn car. If the three of them could have fit on the cycle, it would have made a hell of a lot more sense to take that. Nobody more than fifty miles north of Madison drove a BMW. She didn’t doubt Matt had seen his share of fights and could handle the locals, with or without Kenji’s help. But on the off chance these guys recognized them from the tabloid report and were out for a little witch hunting, she called a thread of energy, letting the flow tingle at her fingertips. “This your girlfriend’s car?” Leering at Lena, Skinny inclined his head toward the BMW. In a move she had no doubt cost Matt a lot of pride, he ignored the obvious challenge and reached forward to open the car door. They had more important things to do tonight, and she admired the fact that he resisted the urge to throw the first punch. “Your girlfriend give head, mister?” Okay, not witch hunters. Just local creeps out to harass visitors. She released the thread of power and leaned back against the car to see what would happen next. For a moment, she thought both guys were going to ignore the comment and get in the car. She’d join them,

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enjoy a bad cup of convenience store coffee, and they’d continue on their way to face a bigger threat than two punks with too much time on their hands. The thugs seemed to think the same thing, because they were turning to leave when Matt and Kenji jumped them. Oh, hell. If someone called the police -- who probably read the tabloids over donuts every morning -- they were screwed. Cursing their overabundance of testosterone and shortage of common sense, she watched Kenji and Matt trade punches with the locals. “Guys, this is getting out of hand.” When her words had no impact and the thud of fists against flesh increased in frequency, punctuated by occasional grunts, she resorted to her connection with Matt and flashed an image of police cruisers. At least she’d insisted the evil-looking hunting knives stay in the trunk until they needed them. A squabble over an insult, they could talk themselves out of. Armed assault was another thing entirely. Which is why she didn’t hesitate to pull an aura of power around her when Skinny opened his pocketknife. Nothing visible, just a curtain of energy strong enough to be felt across the parking lot. “What the fuck?” Scrambling backward, the heavy guy detached himself from Kenji’s grip around his collar and took off. When Skinny raised the knife near Matt’s face, she gave a little shove, twining a cord of energy around his ankles at the same time. He fell hard, and the knife went flying. Scrambling to his feet, he took off running like hell itself was after him. Holding the cloak of power close around her, Lena retrieved the coffee from the hood of the car. “Get. In. The. Car.” Seeing as that was like asking them to climb into a small space with a rattler shaking its tail at them, she admired the fact that they didn’t hesitate. As she buckled her seat belt, she tried to rein in her anger. No such luck. Three days of worry and stress, and she wanted to nail someone to the nearest wall. Every second here kept her away from her mother’s deathbed, and being there was an obligation she planned to fulfill. Gritting her teeth, she handed the tray of coffee cups back to Matt, who set it on the unoccupied seat beside him. Having scalding liquid within her reach wasn’t advisable at the moment.

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Chapter Eight “Stand down, Lena. Let it go.” His voice as soothing as melted chocolate, Kenji leaned past her to open the glove compartment and tossed a first aid kit back to Matt. Bless it, unleashing a psychic tantrum in the confines of an expensive car wouldn’t accomplish anything more than their idiotic fight had. Forcing herself to breathe evenly, she let a trickle of contained force run into the earth. Her nerves jangled from the strain of sloughing it off slowly, like a snake shedding its skin. And she would have been okay -- really, she would have. But then she glanced over her shoulder. Sprawled in the backseat, Matt finished wiping a trail of blood from under his nose, then turned his attention to an ugly gash on his wrist. Belladonna and wormwood, that bastard cut him! In a fit of rage -- she couldn’t tell how much was directed at Matt for getting into the fight in the first place, and how much was at the man who wounded him -- she directed a burst of energy at the tray of insulated cups. With a sharp pop, the cups collapsed, hemorrhaging dark liquid onto the leather seat. “Shit!” Matt glanced from the flattened cardboard and pooling coffee to Lena. To his credit, Kenji didn’t say anything as he got out of the car to fetch a blanket from the trunk. He climbed into the backseat beside Matt, cleaned up the mess, and then lifted Matt’s injured wrist. Taking a tube of ointment and a roll of gauze from the first aid kit, he set to work. The antibiotic salve wasn’t strictly necessary, since they couldn’t get infections, but fitting in became a matter of habit, and the salve would prevent the gauze from sticking to the cut. “You’re lucky. It’s a shallow slice -- not much more than a scratch, really. Looks nasty, though, with all the blood.” He squeezed a line of ointment onto the cut . “I can see why it

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gave Lena a fright.” Unwinding a length of gauze, he wrapped it around Matt’s wrist until the wound was covered, then secured it with a piece of first aid tape. Lena shifted around in her seat to watch, her unease at seeing Matt hurt stronger than she’d like to admit. Touched by the gentleness with which Kenji cared for the injury, her throat tightened when he bent to kiss Matt’s wrist above the gauze. For a moment, she felt horribly, completely alone. “All set, then. If this is the worst that happens to any of us tonight, we’re doing well.” When Kenji climbed in beside Lena and rested his head on the wheel for a moment, she’d have felt better if he yelled at her for messing up his car. Instead, he took a deep breath, then leaned over and kissed her behind the ear. “He’ll be fine.”

***** Stifling the urge to curse, Matt slapped at a mosquito. Though he’d never admit it, his wrist smarted like hell, and it was damn near killing him that he’d never gotten that coffee. For that matter, wading through an ocean of weeds and shrubs under the thin light of a halfmoon and a spattering of stars wasn’t his idea of a good time, either. Although his enhanced night vision made navigating in the moonlight easier, wondering what other tricks he’d picked up from Lena -- or Kenji, for that matter -- had him on edge. Witches weren’t supposed to trade power. Things just didn’t work that way. As far as he knew, what happened when their energy collided last night was unprecedented. But then, so was the damn thing with the pentacle rite. When someone switched a light on in one of the buildings ahead of them, he froze, but there was no indication anyone had seen them. The sooner they got this done, the sooner they could either check into a hotel for the night or start the long drive back to the UP. He planned to argue in favor of the hotel. No doubt the other two would outvote him in favor of putting a safe distance between themselves and northern Wisconsin -- too close to both his and Lena’s home territory for comfort. Pulling Lena’s idiot of a roommate and her unfortunate lover out of this mess wouldn’t count for shit if they ended up getting caught by whoever had been trailing them the other day. Or by any other bonehead witch hunters, for that matter. Still, the image of a clean hotel room, not to mention Lena and Kenji curled up warm beside him in a king-size bed, was a fantasy worth holding on to. When Kenji put his arm out in warning, Matt pulled up short and dropped low beside Lena. The lone guard had circled by a few times, but this time he paused near the fence surrounding the property. Dressed up like GI Joe, the man shifted the weapon he wore strapped to his back and swept the beam of a flashlight over the tangled shrubs. Apparently satisfied, he moved on. They waited until he was on the other side of the cluster of buildings, then scurried toward the fence. Barbed wire twisted along the top.

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Didn’t that damn well figure? Before he could ask what the hell they should do now, he felt a gathering of power, and Kenji raised his hand. A heartbeat later, Kenji climbed the fence and dropped to the other side. Trusting that Kenji had dealt with the wire, Matt gave Lena a leg up, then climbed over himself. Blessed goddess, the barbed wire had melted down to nothing and was as cool as the rain-drenched fields. Sometimes, Kenji’s power scared the shit out of him. Wrapping an arm tight around Lena’s waist, he pressed close to whisper in her ear. “How much closer do you have to be?” “This is close en -- “ “Down!” Kenji hissed his warning a moment before they heard the sharp crack of rifle fire. Plastering Lena to the ground beneath him, Matt tried to locate their attacker. Couldn’t be guard number one -- the location was wrong -- so someone else must be out here. “Get off me.” Lena’s voice shook with frustration. “I can’t work if I can’t breathe.” Rolling out from underneath him, she raised herself on her elbows, her hands fluttering in the deft movements of a spell. He’d insisted she tie her hair back, tuck the long ponytail under her jacket, and borrow his leather cap, but nevertheless, a telltale outline of spun gold framed her face in the moonlight. Another series of shots rang out, and his heart climbed into his throat. Undaunted, Lena continued the hand dance, murmuring under her breath. Silence. No footsteps, and no more shots. “It worked. They’re sleeping.” “They, as in the two guards?” Kenji scooted closer, his face pressed next to Lena’s. “They, as in everyone. I felt about sixty people in the three main houses.” Shifting to her knees, she glanced around the scattering of buildings. “Most were already sleeping, so I just spun it deeper. The rest are asleep now, as well. We’ve got fifteen minutes of privacy, and their sleep will remain unnaturally deep a while after that.” Shit, and he thought Kenji was scary. Looking at Lena with new respect, he stood and brushed dirt off his hands. “Let’s do this, then. Take us to Skyler.” That Lena knew one of the captive witches so well would make this a lot easier, since she should be able to lead them right to her roommate. Veering away from the largest house, she guided them to what looked like a remodeled barn. Within seconds, Kenji melted the locks, and they were inside. Blinking in the sudden light, Matt took in the strange scene. If the weapons stockpiled in the first few rooms they passed were any indication, it looked like these people were preparing for Armageddon. The environmental mess the country was in must have fed right into their paranoid survivalist outlook.

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At the back of the building they found a locked room, and Kenji did his breaking and entering trick again. Inside, several men dressed up like soldiers lay snoring on the floor, and Sky and Giorgio lay bound to ratty cots. Lena knelt by her roommate and checked for a pulse, and Kenji did the same with the other witch. Keeping watch in case of light sleepers, Matt all but held his breath. “She’s okay.” Lena’s voice shook as she pulled out a pocketknife -- the only weapon she’d agreed to carry -- and cut through the knots that bound Skyler. “They worked Giorgio over pretty well. Must have beaten him while he was drugged and tied, or he’d have been able to use defensive magic, if nothing else.” Wrapping the slender man in a blanket, Kenji lifted him in a fireman’s carry and started toward the door. Matt gestured for Lena to get going and scooped Skyler up in his arms. Though he’d just as soon toss her into a corner and leave her, given the mess she’d made of his life. Sometimes, doing the right thing sucked. At least the little harpy didn’t weigh much. Wondering how close they were to the fifteen-minute “time’s up” on Lena’s spell, he scanned for signs of movement as they made their way outside. Nothing. The sexy little witch wove one hell of a sleep spell. When they reached the fence and struggled to hand the two unconscious witches over, he groaned at the downside of Lena’s spell. They’d hiked a couple of miles to get here, and if the rescued witches snoozed the whole time, it’d be a hell of a return trip. The silence grew oppressive, and Matt suspected they’d have company before long. All it would take was for one guard to wake up to take a piss, and he’d notice their prize witches were missing. “Lena, down!” Kenji lurched to the side, nearly dropping Giorgio. Whirling to locate the threat, Matt spotted a blur of fur catapulting out of the darkness. No barking, just a deep, low-throated growl as the animal launched itself toward Lena’s back. “Here, boy.” Whistling softly, Matt focused on the feeling he’d had when the sparrow hopped onto his palm that morning. Wonder, joy, and an all-encompassing sense of trust. Twisting mid-leap, the dog came to rest just shy of Lena’s feet and whirled to face Matt. “That-a-boy.” Holding out his hand, palm up, he wondered if he was about to get his arm bitten off. This was an animal trained for silent attack. A watch dog would have barked its head off before it got anywhere near them. When the beat-up excuse of a German shepherd touched its nose to his palm, then pressed its head against his knee in a gesture of submission, Matt let out a sigh of relief. Running his fingers through the matted fur behind the dog’s ears, he chuckled at the sensation of a wet tongue lapping his wrist. “Okay, good dog.” Kneeling, he lifted Skyler’s limp hand and held it out for the dog to sniff. “She’s with us. Don’t eat her.” Turning to Lena, he gestured for her to join him. She was damn capable of sweet-talking the dog herself, but just to be on the safe side, he lifted her

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hand for the shepherd to smell. “Friend.” Leaving nothing to chance, he bent forward and touched his lips to her wrist. Repeating the brief ritual with Kenji, then Giorgio, he figured he’d covered his bases. “Come on, Sparrow. Let’s get you out of here.” “Sparrow?” Kenji’s tone hinted at suppressed laughter. “Like the bird I held earlier.” Matt was about to warn Kenji not to give him any shit about this when he noticed the faint aura of red around Giorgio’s upper body. Nothing strange about seeing an aura on a sleeping witch, but what rocked him was that Kenji let his yellow aura frame his own head and shoulders until the two colors bled together and formed an orange halo around the two men. Suddenly, carrying a sleeping witch two miles to the car didn’t seem like his biggest problem.

***** “Here, pull over.” Kenji sat beside Sky’s sleeping companion in the backseat, smoothing ointment onto the gouges on the man’s back. Lena glanced over her shoulder at Skyler, who huddled against the door in the backseat, feigning sleep. Kenji placed a call a while back, and from his directive to “Come pick her up,” she figured Sky wouldn’t be going back to the cabin with them. Though it remained to be seen who he planned to hand her off to. Despite the mess Sky got them into, years of sharing a house and memories of their brief involvement during college made the thought of sending Skyler off with strangers unpalatable, at best. Pulling the car onto the shoulder, she left the engine running, still wary of pursuit. The headlights reflected off the back of a car pulled over ahead of them. With a reassuring mummer to Giorgio, Kenji got out of the car. “Out, Skyler.” His voice softening, he bent down to Lena’s open window. “Wait here.” Lena hadn’t said two words to Sky since she’d woken up about a mile into their hike back to the car, but damned if she’d let Kenji hand her off without checking to make sure no harm would come to her. Leaving the keys in the ignition, she hopped out and followed. Matt and Sparrow could watch the car. “You don’t listen well, do you?” “I listen fine. But I don’t take orders.” Shrugging out from under the arm Kenji tried to rest across her shoulders, she evaluated the man walking toward them from the other car. A witch, judging from his aura. His posture appeared relaxed rather than threatening. Kenji grasped the man’s hand and patted his shoulder. “She’s been pretty quiet so far, but keep an eye on her.” Either the fight had been kicked out of her during her captivity, or Sky figured her chances were better with the strange witch than with Matt, who’d subjected her to a series of nasty comments once she’d woken.

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“Where are you taking her?” Lena directed her question at the mystery witch, figuring he’d be more likely to answer than Kenji. “Sorren’s estate. She’ll be safer there than just about anywhere else” “No.” Her hands clenching at her sides, she moved forward to stop Sky from getting into the backseat of the car. “She can’t come with us.” Kenji’s voice was quiet, almost coaxing. “The humans who might come after her we can deal with, but Lena, half the witches in the US -- Canada, too, for that matter -- want her dead.” The word “dead” resonated like a thunderclap. “I know you have issues with Sorren -- though for the life of me, I can’t figure out why -- but he can protect her.” Linking his arm through hers, Kenji drew her back a few paces. “There’s no choice in this.” Sky had turned her life on its head -- torn her away from her final obligation to her mother, her job, her sister -- but she balked at the thought of handing her roommate over to Sorren. Kenji she trusted, though, and if he said Sorren planned to do right by Sky, she’d take his word for it. Without a word of good-bye, she turned and stomped back to the BMW. Matt had climbed into the driver’s seat, so she walked around to the passenger side and slid in next to the dog. Sparrow huddled on the floor at her feet, and as she reached down to bury her fingers in the thick fur around his neck, tears threatened to spill past her lashes. She’d never felt this tired. Three days into this nightmare, and all she wanted was to sleep in her own house.

***** When Kenji reached forward to shake her shoulder, Lena tried to focus. He’d been in her dreams -- the young, dark-haired witch too. Nothing frightening, just holding her hand. Telling her she wasn’t alone. Surfacing the rest of the way, she tried to twist around to glare at him for the intrusion -- damn ash branch was back in the cabin -- but her seat belt held her in place. Sparrow slept at her feet, the warm weight against her legs oddly comforting. When Matt steered the car into a parking spot, she realized they must have pulled off the highway into a town. He reached over and stroked her knee, then cupped her chin in his palm. Trying to orient herself, she tried to figure out why they’d stopped. Giorgio snored softly in the backseat, and rain beat against the windshield. “What? Where are we?” And in an instant, she felt this place and knew she was home. Or in Suffolk, anyway. The nearest place to Shady Creek that boasted a couple of malls and, more importantly, a hospice center. “Why?”

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“You can’t stay, but we arranged for you to have a few minutes with your mother. Can’t be any more dangerous than what we pulled off to get Giorgio and Skyler out of that nest of paramilitary lunatics.” Matt got out of the car, then walked around to open the passenger-side door. “Since we’re in northern Wisconsin, anyway, Kenji called Sorren’s people and set this up.” Groggy from her nap, Lena tried to sharpen her senses as she took his hand and let him help her to her feet. Even half asleep, she could feel tendrils of ill will, hints of danger that refused to fully manifest themselves. “We’ve got to hurry.” As he led her toward the familiar brick building, she choked back a wave of fear. Rain plastered her hair flat against her head, and with a shiver, she pulled the collar of the leather jacket higher around her neck. Goddess help her, she was starting to miss the searing temperatures of the drought. Sensing her hesitation, Matt pulled her close and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Your mom’s alive, but unconscious. We spoke with the witch who’s guarding Serena.” At the thought that she’d see her sister, Lena picked up her pace. Rather than the night security guard, a woman Lena didn’t recognize -- with the green aura of a witch, though so faint only another witch would notice -- met them at the main doors to the hospice center. “Just five minutes. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, so hurry.” The woman waved them down the hall toward her mother’s room, then resumed watch at the door. When they reached the room, she balked, unable to continue. The door opened, and another witch, a man with blond hair and a warm smile, motioned them inside. As soon as she spotted Serena by her mother’s bed, she swooped down and wrapped her arms around the one member of her family whose love was fierce and unconditional. “I’ve been so worried about you.” Squeezing so tight Lena gasped for air, Serena covered her face with kisses. She smelled like warm honey, and her wavy brown hair spilled loose around Lena’s face. Her sister’s athletic build, golden tan, and dark hair hinted at their different origins. Her own elfin-pale features were a constant reminder for her mother. But all that would be over soon. And she’d be free. With a rush of guilt, she glanced toward the bed. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” Squeezing her sister’s hand, Lena pried herself free and leaned down to touch her mother’s forehead, brushing away matted blonde wisps of hair. An IV line trailed from her arm, and oxygen tubing draped across her face. Drugs to ease the pain, and oxygen to ease the struggle to breathe. But that was all now. When the cancer returned, it melted weight off until her mother looked fragile beyond bearing. Her skin, always fair, was dry and tinged with gray. But despite the disease, Lena could still see traces of how beautiful her mother had been before she got sick. Beautiful, damaged, and unintentionally cruel.

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“They say it’s a matter of days now. Say good-bye, then go. You need to go where you’re safe. Scott,” Serena inclined her head to indicate the tall, blond witch, “will bring me to you when I’m done here.” Sorren’s people. Watching out for her family, just as they had years ago. A wave of bile rose in her throat as she leaned over to kiss her mother’s papery cheek, and when she stood up, she realized Scott held Serena’s hand. “Say what you need to say. We’ve got to get going. It’s not safe for you here.” Matt paced like a caged lion, tilting his head to each side as if sniffing the air for danger. Trying to focus, she touched her mother’s cool, dry wrist. She planned to return, somehow. To carry out her promise to be here at the end, so her mom wouldn’t be alone when she crossed over. Lena couldn’t understand why her mother insisted Lena sit with her, when Serena was the child of her heart. Maybe she wanted to be sure of her daughter’s forgiveness before she made her way into the next world. Or maybe, after all these years, the plea for Lena’s presence at her deathbed was her mother’s way of offering her love. Goddess only knew, but she’d made a promise, and she planned to keep it. For now, Lena sensed the same threat in the air as Matt and knew she couldn’t stay. “I’m sorry, Mom. For everything.” Steeling herself against emotion, she wrapped herself in a cloak of numbness. “This is good-bye. Are you sure that’s what you want to leave her with?” Matt’s voice was gentle, with a hint of sadness. How could she expect him to understand? Biting back a sharp reply, she grasped for something else to say, but shaking her head, she abandoned the effort when she realized she didn’t have it in her to forgive her mother for the years of haunted dreams. Most likely Matt wanted her to tell her mom she loved her, but that went without saying. The love, the pain, the confusion -- they all wrapped together. “Good-bye, Mom.” If she made it back here, maybe the words would come. For now, this would have to do. She’d half turned to hug Serena when Kenji’s warning seared through her mind -- Get

out here, now! “Go! They’re here.” Scott motioned for them to leave and pulled Serena back down onto the chair by her mother’s bed.

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Chapter Nine Matt wrapped his arm around her waist before she could gather herself to take a step, and he half carried her out the door. Running full out, they passed the witch at the front door, glanced both ways to try to pinpoint the threat, then dashed toward the car, kicking up spray from the puddles in their race for safety. Someone fired a shot off to their left. Keeping low, Lena wove a blanket of protection around herself and Matt, then extended the web to include the car. No magic could keep out bullets, but the shield would make for blurry targets. The back door was open. Matt lifted her and tossed her in on top of Giorgio, dove in after her, and slammed the door. Kenji pulled out of the lot, tires squealing and spray from the puddles flying up around them. More shots exploded nearby, and someone yelled for them to stop. If she’d had any doubt, she knew now that someone believed the outrageous tabloid reports -- and wanted her dead. “Serena!” Trying to untangle herself from Giorgio’s arms and Matt’s legs, she fought back tears. “We have to go back. They’ll find her!” Matt tried to rub her back, but she shrugged free of his hand. As they tore down the street and turned onto the highway, something inside her keened helplessly. “Your sister’s safe. I’ve known Scott for years, and he won’t let anyone touch her.” Kenji’s voice was soothing, but firm with resolve. “No one knows she’s a witch, and she’s already made it clear she has no idea where you’re staying.” “I promise, Serena’s safe. But you can’t go back there -- maybe not ever.” The heaviness in Matt’s words told her he was hiding something. “What? Tell me whatever it is you don’t want me to know.” Matt sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. Worry lines creased his forehead, and even in the dim light of the street lamps, his eyes reflected unbearable sadness. “They burned

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your house late last night. Sorren told Kenji when he called this morning, but we decided not to worry you until after we had Skyler and Giorgio free.” Matt leaned close and rested his hand on her knee. “There’s nothing left.” Sweet Brighid help her, someone had tried to burn the witches. Fighting back tears, she realized Giorgio held her hand. Comforted by the concern of a virtual stranger, she shook her head. “My mother’s home?” “Untouched. Serena let Sorren’s people know what was important, and they moved a bunch of things up to his estate, just in case.” Kissing away tears she refused to shed, Matt brushed his lips across her eyelids. “That they’ve left her home standing is a good sign. No one suspects Serena and your mom are witches. We wouldn’t have left her otherwise.” The weight of loss closed in on her -- her spell books, boxes of keepsakes, photos of childhood camping trips with her dad, mementos from her trip to Europe, her altar and all the sacred objects it held -- everything turned to ash. Cut free of her moorings, she realized her only connection in the world was to Serena. Serena and the two witches who’d welcomed Lena into their lives -- and their bed.

***** Numb, Lena crouched in the far corner of the kitchen, trying to block out the sound of harsh sobs, not quite masked by the sound of the shower. With her nerves frayed, she couldn’t bear to listen to someone cry right now, and she tried not to think about what Giorgio might have been through. Kenji’s voice drifted out from the back of the cabin in a soothing monotone as he tried to comfort Giorgio. Although sweat trickled down the back of her neck, she refused to take off Matt’s jacket. The leather had become a second skin, an added layer of protection. When Matt rounded the corner, stripped down to a pair of green boxer shorts, she looked up to meet his eyes then glanced back at her hands. “Here’s how we’re going to do this. Kenji’s got his hands full with Giorgio, and I suspect the shower’s not likely to be free anytime soon.” Kneeling beside her, he laced his fingers with hers and tugged her to her feet. “Seeing as you’re not doing yourself any good tucked up in a ball on the kitchen floor, we’re heading out back.” “It’s raining.” The rain had become a symbol of how changed her life was. All this began in a circle of ten prone bodies and three anchors trying to bring the rain. Curling his arm around her back, he steered her toward the oak table. “That’s part of my plan.” He grabbed a plastic bowl which held a bar of soap and bottle of shampoo. “Clothes off.” Stripping out of his silk shorts, he abandoned them on a chair. When he peeled the bandage off his wrist and discarded it on the table, she was relieved to confirm that the troublemaker at the convenience store hadn’t inflicted much more than a nasty scratch. Too tired to argue, she tugged off the jacket, peeled away her

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damp shirt, and slipped out of her jeans and panties. The light sphere floating in the ceramic bowl at the center of the table cast violet shadows across Matt’s skin, and she realized why he was staring. He was as tired and mud-spattered as she was, but in the soft light, he looked breathtakingly gorgeous. If the light had the same effect on her… Covering her breasts with her arms, she turned away from him. “Now what?” “Now we get some of this mud and sweat off.” Without making an attempt to touch her, he headed for the back door, and she followed. Sparrow looked up from his blanket by the door, and Matt patted his head on his way by. The half-starved shepherd had gobbled a huge bowl of table scraps and settled in like he’d lived here forever. Letting the dog sniff her palm first, she stepped outside. As rain washed over her in a cool blanket, she had to admit this was better than sulking in the kitchen. Raising her hand, she spun a blue light globe, then set it in the center of a puddle, keeping it afloat with a mental command -- another trick she must have picked up from Matt. Someday, they’d have to sort out what each of them had gained when their powers mingled. Pines created a horseshoe around a field of sweet-smelling herbs, raspberry patches, and tall grass. Matt’s work, no doubt, coming to life again since their crazy attempt to seed the clouds succeeded beyond their wildest hopes. “I can see lines of tension in your shoulders. Give yourself to the night. Let it all wash away.” His bare feet padding on the stone patio, Matt moved close enough to touch her, but to his credit, resisted temptation. Feeling lost, she let the rain plaster her hair to her back, raised her face, and called to the goddess. For a moment, she felt a rush of air and the brush of feathers against her cheek, but then the shadow of divinity vanished, leaving only the rain. “She’s left me.” Matt moved close and pulled her back against his chest. “Your mother?” “No. Not my mother. In every way that counts, she left me years ago.” Rather than asking her to explain, he lowered his face and touched his lips to the curve of her neck. “I can’t call the goddess for you, little witch. She and I were never on great speaking terms. But I can ease your mind, if you let me.” Stooping to pick up the soap, he turned her to face him. “Whoever else has left you, whatever you’ve lost, you should know I plan on sticking around.” “I told you -- I don’t have relationships.” Goddess, the last thing she wanted to do tonight was hurt Matt. All he was trying to do was ease her pain. “I can’t.” “That’s a discussion for another time. But lovers -- I recall you saying you don’t have any objection to those.” Lathering the soap in his palms, he brushed his hands down the length of her spine and left a trail of silken bubbles. “Yes.”

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Whether weak or just weary, she couldn’t say, but for whatever reason, she let him pull her into his arms and lather her back. She’d only hurt him more in the end. Best to pull away before he got too attached. But the Horned God himself couldn’t have pried her from his arms tonight. “When I watched you in the shower after you bathed me last night, I wanted more than anything to return the favor. Soap your skin. Massage shampoo into your hair. But I was afraid I’d scare you off.” Shifting the focus of the rain bath, he moved his hands across her breasts, trailing the bar of soap over her tightening nipples. A hint of night flowers drifted on the rain-driven wind, but when she nestled closer to Matt, she realized it was his own scent of orchards and pine forests. She should have been chilled, standing naked in the driving rain, but his naked chest scorched her back, sending warmth shooting through every inch of her body. Closing her eyes, she abandoned herself to his fingers. With deft movements, he spread slick trails of soap across her chest, along the curve of her neck, down her arms and legs, and in crazy, dizzying circles over her belly and breasts. The brush of skin on skin, the scent of him, the gentleness of his touch as he dominated her senses -- everything else faded into the background. “Tilt your head back.” Cupping his palm at the nape of her neck, he massaged shampoo into her scalp. “There, that’s it.” No one had washed her hair since she was little. Her father was the one who’d cared for her, teaching her to wash behind her ears, tenderly combing out tangles after her baths. Her mother didn’t like to touch her, something she hadn’t fully understood until she was twelve, when she learned the whole story behind the teary outpourings of guilt, fear, and sadness she’d overheard during her younger years. “Shh, no dark thoughts tonight.” Startled, she tilted her head to look at Matt. Blue shadows played across his rain-slick face, and seeing him cloaked in the color of her light sphere was oddly seductive. His eyes gave away nothing, and she wondered if he’d felt her tense while her memory tugged her backward, or if he’d been pulled into her thoughts. “Your thoughts, but it’s nothing I didn’t pick up when you and Kenji and I were plastered together in one limp, psychic mess last night.” If there was a way to undo the connection they’d formed during the pentacle rite -and strengthened last night -- they’d have to find it at some point. But tonight, there wasn’t much she could do about the ties stretched between them, deeper than tendrils of thought. Better to lean back and let her angst melt away under the caress of his fingertips. Tomorrow would be soon enough to try to sort out the mess her life had become. “What am I thinking now?” Her voice was low, and in case he needed a hint, she turned to face him and leaned close, letting her nipples brush his chest.

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“Trust me, we’ll get to that. Let’s rinse your hair first.” Raising his arms, he spread his fingers and fluttered them in the deft pattern of a weather spell. The steady rain became a torrent, and as it fell, colors flickered through the droplets, incandescent lavenders, blues, and greens. A palette of cool colors slashing down in streaks of soft light, mixing in dizzying eddies around their feet until they formed an emerald ocean on the patio stones. Picking up the soap, she washed caked mud from his legs and scrubbed every inch of his skin before letting the rain rinse away the lather. Though the storm was Matt’s domain, it resonated with her own magic, and around her she felt the earth and plants responding to Matt’s rain. It hurt, somewhere deep inside -- how well they fit together. And that he couldn’t be hers. As the rain slowed to a steady patter and the color bled out of the droplets, Matt bent to rest his chin on her shoulder. “Why can’t I be yours?” “No dark thoughts tonight, remember?” “I need to know.” Touching his lips to each of her eyes, he kissed away her tears, which mingled with the rush of rainwater. “I’m -- flawed. You saw yourself, last night, when our memories mixed. I didn’t understand when I was young, but…” Matt made a soft, choking sound, and she wondered if he was crying with her. “The man who raped her, he was a witch? I mean, no human could…” “Her brother. My uncle. You see now?”

My uncle. And for genetic purposes, my father. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweet witch.” Stroking her face, he moved her arms so her hands pressed against the base of his spine and held her so tight it was difficult to draw a breath. “No witch expects to be raped. We have too many defenses. And no one would have thought to warn her she could lose control of her reproductive cycle during trauma. But none of that was your fault, little witch.” “Don’t you understand? I can’t have children. We -- witches -- come from a small enough gene pool to start with. And since I’m” -- there wasn’t even a word for what she was -- “what I am, and because we’re as susceptible to passing on genetic diseases and deformities as humans…” Her father’s chiding voice rang in her ears. We’re human, too, Lena-cat. Don’t ever forget it. Human -- with a little something special thrown in. But when he’d died in a headon collision when she was fifteen, his steady assurance of her humanity died with him. Her mother made sure to set her straight. Not human. Not even witch. A monster. Not just for the twisted genes she carried, but for the threat her magic might manifest itself in strange ways with the inbreeding. And it had. Stronger and wilder than a witch’s power

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should be. But she’d hidden that part of her, careful only to exhibit the expected range of talents. “Have you heard me say I want a family, Lena? I want a lot of things, but a family’s not one of them. I wouldn’t know what to do with kids -- never got to be one myself.” He dug his face against her neck hard enough that the razor stubble scraped her skin. “You’re here, naked and shivering in my arms, and I want to comfort you. But I don’t know how to make you see that nothing about you can frighten me away.” Gritting her teeth, she struggled out of his arms and sloshed through the puddles until she stood at the edge of the stone patio. “Do you think I work in the children’s room at the library just because I like books? I can’t have kids of my own, Matt. Not being -- tainted -the way I am. My powers are strange enough, given the genetic -- circumstances. Who knows what kind of damaged magic I might pass on to a child? And wanting what I can’t have isn’t going to do me any good.” “So because you think you can’t have one kind of love, you deny yourself another?” Storming up behind her, he grabbed her arm. “Stop! Nothing you say can change things. I don’t have relationships. Can’t. Because there’s no possibility of any future in it. Not in any normal kind of way.” “So let’s leave it at this, then.” Lifting her so she instinctively curled her legs around his back, locking her ankles together so she wouldn’t fall, he covered her mouth in a searing kiss. When he pulled back for air, she laid her head on his shoulder and caught her fingers in his wet, tangled hair. Saying her piece had left her with a strange sense of freedom. She’d never told anyone else what she’d shared with him. And he hadn’t been disgusted. “Lovers, then. I’ll hold you to that much, at least.” Yes, he could have that much. But she was going to hurt him in the end, because she sensed with every fiber of her being that he wanted more than she could offer. “Yes. Lovers.” And when he shifted her weight lower so he could enter her, she canted her hips to meet him, welcoming the stretching press of his cock inside her. He groaned when she pulled his hair, so she shifted her hands to his shoulders, holding on for all she was worth. She worried he’d fall, bringing her down with him, but his movements were measured and slow, and his legs remained steady as he held her. Supported in his arms, with her legs locked tight around his back, she felt like she was floating -- as if the rain were the ocean, capable of buoying her up. As free as the wind caressing her skin, she breathed him in as if she could get drunk on his scent alone. Each tiny movement sent licks of flame up her spine, and something inside her fought to break loose, to thrash and yell out her passion.

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“We need to go inside.” Breathing hard, he withdrew and eased her onto her feet, steadying her with his arm when she staggered at the unexpected burden of standing upright. “I need to be in a bed with you, where we can spread out and explore each other’s bodies.” He wouldn’t get any argument from her. Taking his hand, she led him toward the door, still shaky on her feet. The wards caressed her on the way by, like a familiar hand on her shoulder. Sparrow gave an inquisitive bark when they entered, but Matt quieted him with a few gentle words. Getting by Kenji looked like it might be more difficult. Giorgio slept on an air mattress by the couch, curled under a pile of twisted blankets. Kenji lay stretched out on the sofa, a hand on the sleeping man’s shoulder, but his eyes were on her and Matt. They must be a sight, dripping wet and flushed from their interrupted coupling. “Grab a towel, you’re soaking the floor.” The note of amusement in Kenji’s voice was unmistakable. Matt grabbed a few hand towels from the kitchen, and they dried off as best they could. As Matt stroked the rough cotton over her breasts, heat darted along her spine, and she wondered if Kenji would try to join them. Wondered if she wanted him to. A flush crept from her chest to her face at the thought, and part of her wanted to repeat last night’s wild dance, the three of them tangled together on sweaty sheets. But she also wanted to share the night with Matt, and Matt alone. Embarrassed, she glanced at Matt for guidance. Skyler was the one with the complicated personal life, not her. Nothing in her experience prepared her for these feelings, and she didn’t have a clue what to say. “As much as I’m enjoying watching Lena squirm, I’m going to stay out here tonight. Giorgio had a rough time of it, and I want to guard his dreams.” “He’ll be okay?” Tossing the checkered dishtowel onto the table, Matt glanced at the dark, tousled head half buried by blankets. “Yeah. They worked him over while he was drugged and tied -- cowardly bastards -and he’s a mass of bruises. But nothing’s broken, as far as I can tell. He’ll mend.” Tilting his head so his curls pooled around his shoulders, Kenji studied Lena. “Giorgio said he got the worst of it. They pretty much left Skyler alone.” Stung by the fact that she’d been so angry at her roommate, she’d hardly given a thought to what Sky might have experienced at the hands of her captors, Lena nodded. “Look, it’s late, and it’s obvious the two of you were in the middle of something. Go finish it.” In a seductive gesture, Kenji blew them each a good-night kiss. “Why are you making this so easy?” Matt asked, hesitating, as he glanced from Kenji to Giorgio.

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Oh, goddess, Matt’s jealous. Jealous of Kenji’s concern for a badly hurt witch who couldn’t be more than twenty-two. A powerful baby who’d stumbled into Sky’s grasp and ended up the worse for it. “So Lena, at twenty-six, would you say you’re so jaded that what happened in the pentacle the other night didn’t shake you to your core?” Kenji tilted his lips in a half smile, and she knew he’d been in her thoughts again. Kenji’s raised eyebrow taunted her with all the blushing uncertainty she’d brought to the clearing in the woods -- and left behind on the muddy ground when she’d staggered away after the ritual was over. Having two witches around who could sneak into her thoughts was starting to wear on her last nerve. And for that matter, how did Kenji know how old she was? It’s not like she’d been thinking about her birthday. Cringing at her naiveté, she realized Sorren would have shared information with the other anchors -- facts regarding the strengths and weaknesses of the witches he’d asked to join the rite. Her anger flared at the thought of the liberties the elder witch took in his selfappointed role as leader. Seething, she sought an outlet for her anger, and fixed on Kenji -Sorren’s heir apparent. “Matt’s jealous.” Oh, Hecate, what made her say that? “So am I.” His dark brown eyes narrowed as he met Lena’s stare. “Now that we’ve got everything out in the open, you and Matt better head into the bedroom, before I change my mind and join you.”

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Chapter Ten In what Lena suspected was a desperate attempt to diffuse tension, Matt grabbed her hand and pressed it against the firm heat of his erection. “I’d love to stay and argue, but it’s past time Lena and I headed to bed.” With that, he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her toward the back of the cabin before she had a chance to say anything else to antagonize Kenji. “By the Horned God, Lena, do you say every damn thing that comes into your head?” Finding a new target for her anger, she shrugged free of his grip on her arm as they entered the bedroom. But when she rounded on him, prepared to lash out with the sharp edge of frustration she felt at having been dragged into this mess of attachments and twisted loyalties, the look in his eyes stopped her cold. “I love Kenji, too, Lena. I don’t want to hurt him.”

And I don’t want him to hurt me. That’s the part he left unsaid. Pain and confusion warred for dominance in his clear, amber brown eyes. “I’m sorry.” Sorry for being here. Sorry for the mess Sky dragged them all into. “I said I loved him, too, little witch. I’ve known you three days now, and you’ve woven yourself so tightly into my heart, I couldn’t pry you out if I wanted to. Don’t be sorry for that.” Sitting at the edge of the bed with a sigh, he held out his hand to her. Against her better judgment, she twined her fingers with his, and he pulled her down onto the bed. For a few minutes, he kissed her so hard her lips stung, and she felt like she’d drown in the spicy taste of him. Her nipples ached, and the need to have him inside her flared so strong, she shivered when the kiss ended. “Kenji and I, we’re fire and water.”

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Startled, she propped herself on her elbows to look at him. Now that Matt mentioned it, he and Kenji were fire and water -- literally, with the opposite orientation of their power, but also with their personalities. She’d seen the first day why they were lovers, but not partners. Kenji would never stop trying to protect Matt, to help him keep his business afloat, guard him from life’s bruises. And Matt had a fierce, ingrained need for independence. Like her. The two of them were as cool and free as moonlight. “Did you see what happened when he carried Giorgio away from the compound tonight?” Matt nestled his face against her side, attempting to lighten the mood, but his words carried both pain and wariness. She had, but she’d hoped Matt hadn’t. Two auras, as warm as fire and sunlight, yellow and red bleeding into orange. “Is that what it’s like for Kenji, seeing us together?” Without giving her a chance to answer, he tilted her onto her back and covered her mouth with burning kisses. Wrung out, she wasn’t about to force a conversation. Sex would be a welcome escape from the muddle of emotions she’d been sucked into. When she placed her hand on his ass, he arched to meet her, seeking pleasure. He nipped her lip, and a prairie fire of arousal raged across the surface of her skin. “I love you, little witch.” His words, mumbled against the curve of her neck, stole away the simplicity of the moment and plunged her into an icy river of doubt. “No.” She didn’t know if she meant, No, don’t love me, or No, I can’t love you, or just, No, don’t pull away from me, which is what he’d started to do when she froze at his declaration. “Please, Matt.” Please, don’t pull away from me. My heat needs your heat. My body needs your kisses. “I’m sorry -- shh -- it’s okay.” He cupped her cheek with his palm. There, it would be all right now. His voice shook with need, and his fingers dug into her hips. This was a language she knew how to speak. When he scooted down and kissed the back of her knee, she sighed with anticipation. Nudging her legs further apart, he eased forward until his breath caressed her skin. “Yes.” She tangled her fingers in his rain-drenched hair, enjoying the feel of it against her palms. When his tongue stroked along dew-kissed folds of skin, she arched upward, pushing into his face. Pressing his hands against her thighs, he held her pinned to the bed until she moaned under the relentless caress of his mouth. Melted chocolate was too cool a description for how her body reacted under the skilled strokes of his tongue. Something volcanic and fierce raged through her. When he nipped the tender skin at the crease of her thigh, she whimpered, struggling under his hands, urging him to put his mouth over her clit. But he lapped her thigh like a puppy, coating her in a dizzying spiral of

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sensation. When she struggled against the solid weight of his hands, arching and twisting, all but begging, he laughed. “One night alone, little witch. I’m not going to use it up all at once.” He shifted upward, until his mouth laid a line of kisses across her breasts and his hand pressed against her stomach, holding her flat to the mattress. When he swirled his tongue around her areola, she thought she’d come apart at the seams. Just when she thought the aching, teasing pull around her nipple would drive her insane if he didn’t stop teasing and get down to business, he switched sides and treated her other breast to the same delicious torment. “Damn it, Matt.” He laughed and cupped his hands under the curve of her breasts. “You smell like wind and rain. And you’re hair is like damp silk against my skin.” His wet curls tickled her breasts as he continued the slow, torturous swirl of his tongue across fevered flesh. Around and around, without giving her what she needed. She reached up to clutch his shoulders. But when she caught herself digging her nails into his back she flinched, reminded of the ugly gouges she’d spotted on Giorgio’s back after the rite -- Sky’s work. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me.” She would, but not with her nails on his skin. And he’d hurt her, too, though not in any way that marked her flesh. Shaking her head to clear the thought, she stroked the nape of his neck. When he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked, playing the taut flesh between his teeth, she held her breath. Pressing against the satiny warmth of his cock, she squirmed, enticing him to enter. “Not yet..” Moving his mouth back to the other side, he continued the delicious sucking, nibbling orgy of sensation. Unsure whether she could come from the tantalizing pressure of his mouth on her breast alone, she decided she was about to find out. He slid his hand between them and rubbed his thumb across her clit. Before the sensations shivering across her body had time to explode into a full-blown orgasm, he shifted and dipped his fingers deep inside her, all the time working his mouth over her burning breast. She arched to meet his fingers, desperate for him to hit her sweet spot, but after a few lazy strokes, he withdrew his hand and slid it under her bottom. Cupping her ass in his palm, he nipped harder at her nipple and splayed the fingers of his other hand across her belly to hold her down. Lost in waves of velvet blue light, she rode the almost cresting pleasure. His mouth on her breast created a heady distraction, and she didn’t realize he’d slid a finger into her ass until he caressed the tight ring of muscle.

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“Hey!” Opening her eyes, she raised her hand to spin energy for a light globe, then tossed it to land in the bowl of oil beside the bed. “Hey, as in, this is a bad thing?” Without withdrawing his finger or even halting the soft, probing, stroking motion, he raised his head and met her eyes. “Goddess, your eyes are spooky green in this light.” “Hey, as in, when did you ask if you could put your finger in my ass?” She missed the crazy delight of his mouth trailing across her chest, but she hadn’t decided how she felt about the intrusion into her over-tight channel. “You’ve got a luscious ass, little witch. If I don’t bother it first, Kenji will get there before I do, and that would really piss me off.” Rather than infuriating her, his chuckle evoked an answering laugh from somewhere deep inside her. She’d seen how much Matt hated it when Kenji tried to protect him from the blow of losing his land. Matt might call her little witch, but he was giving her what he needed most from Kenji. The respect of an equal. Along with the refusal to coddle or protect her, even from himself. If she didn’t want his finger in her ass, he trusted her to damn well speak up and tell him so. “Well?” Nipping the side of her neck, he slid his finger deeper. “Kiss me.” Better him than Kenji, where her ass was concerned. If this was something Matt liked, she was game to try. Rather than meeting her open lips, he dipped his head back to her breast. “You didn’t say where.” “Mmm.” Letting her eyes flutter shut, she slipped back into a cloud of soft, blue velvet, floating on a rush of sensation as his tongue teased across her breast, flicking back and forth over the rock-hard peak of flesh at the center. “There’s good.”

***** The heavy, full feeling in his balls had long since become a distracting ache, and Matt half thought he’d explode as he sucked and tongued first one side, then the other, determined to bring her off with just the sensation of his mouth on her breasts and his fingers in her ass. She didn’t complain when he slid a second one in there, and from the way she arched against him, he knew she enjoyed the teasing pressure as he spread his fingers, stretching the tight channel. Falling in and out of her thoughts was disconcerting, to say the least, but he knew she’d picked up his intent. Much as Kenji loved him, he refused to let him stand on his own two feet. Matt would never do that to Lena. If she wanted to play with him, she could play by his rules, or speak up and set her own. Strength for strength, they balanced in a way he and Kenji never could.

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If this whole blessed thing wasn’t such a mess, she might just be perfect for him. But seeing as fate didn’t intend to dish out any kind of perfect -- except maybe perfect chaos -he’d enjoy her while he could. “You’re,” Lena gasped when he nipped just to the left of her areola, hard enough to send tantalizing darts of pleasure-pain sliding through her senses, “thinking too much. That’s supposed to be my job.” Chuckling, he set to work in earnest, taking as much flesh as he could into his mouth and sucking for all he was worth. His cock nestled between her thighs, and as soon as she came, he planned to bury it inside her. Spreading his fingers until she clenched around them and cried out, he counted backward from one hundred, praying he wouldn’t spill on her thighs before he ever got inside her. “More.” With a human partner, he’d have had to ask “More what,” and nothing cramped a hot moment like an excess of conversation. With Lena, he knew damn well she meant more pressure in her tight little ass. Sliding his fingers just a fraction of an inch deeper, he played her nipple between his teeth, stretching the tender bud away from her body. She shuddered under him with a fury that nearly pushed him over the edge with her. Before her climax ebbed, he covered her mouth with his own and plunged his cock inside her. Hot, wet, wild, a fury of wind and rain drowned his senses. But the rush of power couldn’t distract him from the wet velvet sensations as she clenched tight around him. Sliding his fingers free of her ass, he used his hands to pull her close, pressing his palms against her back with each thrust. Keeping his movements slow, since his control was as thin as her next moan, he rocked her with the force of his thrusts. Something inside him needed to take her as witch, as well as man, and he let a flow of energy weave its way through his thoughts, directing it until he’d fashioned a rope of light. Picturing her arms tied above her head, pressed flat to the pillow, he twined the rope around her wrists and made it so. “Hey!” Her protest sounded more strident than when he’d slid his finger inside the dark, tight channel of her bottom, but the wet rush of liquid against his thighs told him she might not mind being bound as much as she thought. “No?” Lifting his mouth to give her a chance to catch her breath, he waited, buried deep inside her, using every ounce of restraint to hold still while she decided. “I could get free if I wanted.” As if to emphasize her point, a misty aura of blue shone around the violet rope binding her wrists. “I know.” If he could push, she could shove right back. They matched each other like nothing else he’d ever known. When she relaxed against the pull of the rope and closed her eyes, her hair spread around her and her chest heaving in a crazy vision of lust and abandon, he lost what was left

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of his mind. Sliding his body over hers in an age-old dance, he shivered as his damp skin brushed across her satiny smooth breasts. She engulfed him like a dark river, drowning him in pools of heat and silence. His heart pounded in his ears, and his breath tore at his chest, but now that he’d stopped trying to fight release, he couldn’t find it. Something in him knew he was being too rough, driving too hard against her trembling hips, burying himself too deep. But her hands pressed against his face, guiding him to her lips, and her kisses drove him wilder still. True to her claim, she’d been able to free her wrists from the cord of energy he’d spun around her. “Lena…” Her name tore out of him like a curse and a prayer, and he drove deeper and harder, shaking when she met each thrust by arching into his weight, spreading her legs wider, inviting him deeper. “Now!” Her cry called up a torrent of wind and color. Smells and sensations surrounded him as he clung to her -- ocean salt, ripe peaches, crushed grass, and wood smoke. Blazing need, the crack of leather on bare skin, featherlight caresses, summer sand on naked feet, bright sun on closed eyelids, water on dry lips. Her magic toyed with his senses, until he wasn’t sure what was real and what was imagined. Until he broke, snapping in two with the force of it, and came in a jolt of blinding release. Hot, wet, sweaty, clenching, shuddering bliss. Something stung his shoulders, and he surfaced enough to realize her fingernails had pierced his skin. Gasping for air, he cradled her head in his hands as she whimpered beneath him, shaking with the force of her own climax. When the fury ebbed, he rested his head on her shoulder and eased his weight off her, still pressed close to her side. The remnants of her magic spun a cocoon of warmth around them, neither blue nor violet, but a shade of dusty lilac that reflected both. One breath, one body, one aura. And nowhere to go with that but in -- deep, deep, deep over their heads.

***** “Someone’s past the first ward!” Springing up from the breakfast table, Kenji grabbed his black silk robe and headed toward the door. Matt and Lena followed, close at his heels, but on his way out the door, Matt turned back to tell Sparrow to stay, to watch over the sleeping Giorgio. As the two men outdistanced her, Lena cursed her shorter legs. On the other hand, a rear view of Matt running down the dirt path wearing nothing but silk boxers, his skin golden in the morning light, softened the sting of falling behind. Too bad Kenji had thought to grab a robe. When they rounded the bend, she tried to make sense of the well-dressed man standing just inside the perimeter of their outermost ward. If he were human, he’d be on the

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ground, unconscious from the psychic blow of forcing past the ward. Witch. A well-dressed witch. And cocky as hell, standing rock-solid calm as three irate witches raced toward him in their nightclothes. Glad she’d pulled on a pair of Matt’s sweatpants to ward off the morning chill -- no matter how ridiculous she looked with the waist and ankles rolled several times to make them fit -- she reached up to button the top two buttons of the shirt Kenji gave her to sleep in her first night there. Two men stood further up the rutted path that served as the road to the cabin. Unlike the witch, fear showed on their faces and in the way their fingers danced at their sides. Guns. Those goons had brought weapons within reach of their cabin! With the knowledge that wards couldn’t keep out bullets sitting uneasily in her thoughts, she slowed to a trot. Matt and Kenji stopped shy of the second ward, keeping a wall of magic between them and the strange witch, not to mention what she hoped to be a safe distance between them and the two armed bodyguards. That’s what the heavily muscled men had to be, standing there like restless apes, shifting uncomfortably as the man they were supposed to guard forged on ahead. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast.” Reaching up, the man removed his sunglasses with the grace of a rock star making his way along a red carpet and flashed them a smile. He was gorgeous, in a conventional, GQ sort of way. Although Lena didn’t pay much attention to fashion, it was clear his suit had been made for him, and his blue silk tie matched the shade of his eyes. Matt shifted to make room for her between him and Kenji as she approached, and she gave him several points for not trying to shove her behind him. The guards were a threat, fingers still twitching in reach of their guns. But the witch presented a more significant menace. When he approached the barrier of magic separating them, she felt the psychic push and added her energy to Kenji’s and Matt’s to shore up the ward. Scowling, as if perplexed at the unexpected resistance, the man raised his arms over his head and mumbled something in Latin. Their energy held -- a reassuring wall between them and his ill intent. Who he was, and how he’d managed to make his way this far onto Kenji’s heavily warded land, were questions she suspected would have unpleasant answers. “What do you want, Jaimis?” Kenji’s abrupt tone verged on hostility. “Still not teaching manners in Ann Arbor, my friend?” Shrugging out of his suit jacket, the intruder waved it at the ward. The image of a businessman in a blue silk shirt, impeccably styled dress pants, and neatly combed brown hair did nothing to dispel the threat inherent in his movements. Sweet Brighid, his soft leather shoes probably cost more than her entire wardrobe -- the one she’d lost in the fire, she remembered with a twinge of hopelessness. But as he worked his spell, Lena pictured him cloaked in smudges and shadows. Whoever he was, his magic held the cloying scent of blood rites and rotting meat.

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When Matt and Kenji raised more power, throwing it at the ward like water onto a fire, she added hers as well. The man looked half crazed as he danced, shaking his jacket at the ward, but the sense of danger raised goose bumps along the backs of her arms. When he let go of his suit jacket, sending it flying effortlessly past their ward, she gasped. “Ah, there, then.” Stepping forward to join them, the witch bent to pick up his coat, frowning as he brushed at a spattering of mud. “I should send you the cleaning bill for the incivility of refusing to lower your wards.” Fear pooled in her belly, but she stood her ground. No one short of Sorren himself should have been able to disable a magical barrier that strong. “You’re being rude, Kenji, my lad. You’ve not introduced me to your pet. Good instinct, to keep him scantily clad. I’m guessing he earned those muscles on the job and not in a gym. Do I see a hint of the Mediterranean in his golden complexion? Ah, but he wouldn’t know, would he? If he hadn’t stumbled across you, he wouldn’t even know what he is. Must make for a great deal of loyalty, no?” Lena winced. From what she’d seen when their magics collided, she knew Matt’s mother had been a prostitute, and Matt didn’t have contact with his father. Not knowing the simple facts of his origin was bad enough. But that he hadn’t known he was a witch… She couldn’t imagine what that must have been like when his talents started to manifest. This man evidently knew enough about them to play on their insecurities, and Lena hated him for his ruthlessness. Matt snarled and clenched his fists when the stranger reached out to touch his chest, but Kenji caught Matt’s arm, pulling him back. “He’s baiting you. Let it go.” The chill in Kenji’s voice conveyed an unmistakable threat, as did the dark flow of power swirling around him. Goddess help them -- Kenji was poised to launch a killing blow.

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Chapter Eleven “Just a precaution, Lena. Mr. Quinn knows when he’s pushed far enough.” Despite Kenji’s reassurance, he faced Jaimis like a cobra regarding a rat and didn’t release the massive stream of power. “Ah, yes, another introduction neglected.” Bending down, the witch took Lena’s hand in his palm and brushed his lips across the backs of her knuckles. Straightening, he glanced back at the two men. “Behind me, you see Joseph and Julio, my business associates. You, of course, are little Lena, all grown up.” With a shudder, she took a step back. She didn’t want to know this man -- didn’t want him to know her. She fought the urge to rub her hands in the dirt to remove the taint of his kiss. For some reason, she thought of the dead witch from the Colorado circle. But divination wasn’t one of her powers, and she had no reason to connect the death to the intruder. “I’m Jaimis Quinn, an old friend of Sorren’s. Your father’s, too, for that matter.” Lena winced at that, but as a witch, she could sense some truth in his words. The man had known her father -- though how a gentle witch like her dad got mixed up with someone who set off every one of her personal alarms, she had no idea. “You’re no friend of Sorren’s, and you need to leave my property.” The rush of power around Kenji gathered into a swirling mist flecked with golden sparks. “Manners again, my boy. I’d pay a visit to your mother and tell tales of your insolence, but I don’t think your father would welcome me. As I remember, his temper runs hotter than yours.” This time, Kenji lunged forward, and Matt restrained him. “Ah, so your witch-toy has decent judgment, as well as a fine body.” Raising his hand, Jaimis clenched his fist, and a seething ring of power formed around him, then faded into the

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earth. Death magic. “But please, let’s settle this peacefully, so you can get back to your breakfast. I’ve no quarrel with any of you. I’ve simply come to retrieve my companion.” Frowning, Matt glanced over his shoulder toward the cabin, probably wondering the same thing she was. How in the world could a witch reeking of wealth and power have had anything to do with the shy grad student sleeping off a nasty beating on an air mattress in the front room of the cabin? “Please explain. And then get the hell off my land.” Raising his hand, Kenji touched his thumb to his closed fingers, completing a circle, and cold darts of energy skittered around him like restless scorpions. The thought that Kenji didn’t hesitate to call forbidden magic left a queasy feeling in Lena’s stomach, and instinctively, she raised her own defenses. Energy coursed through her as surely as if she’d stepped into the middle of an electrical storm. So much power buzzed around them, she half expected a cataclysmic reaction when the energies of the four witches collided. “I’m here to collect Skyler. The delectable little morsel seems to have gone missing.” “You’re the bastard who had them captured?” Anger rippled through Matt’s voice, and violet mist formed around him -- energy seasoned with the threat of violence. “Rescued Skyler and her young companion, more like. Shady Creek was a mess of angry vigilantes after her, ah, precipitous announcement. Though I’d only intended for the fools to escort Skyler to a safe location until I could fly out and meet her. Her little pet wasn’t part of the bargain.” “His name is Giorgio.” Kenji’s voice lashed like a whip. “Your men drugged him so he couldn’t access his powers, and then they beat him half to death. Which begs the question of why you’re mixing with a human paramilitary group.” “No one was supposed to be hurt. You have my word on that. The men who did that are dead.” “Works for me.” With a curt nod, Kenji waited for further explanation. How had she managed to get mixed up with witches who thought so little of human life? Kenji’s indifference went against everything she’d been taught. With a sinking feeling, she realized he wasn’t indifferent. Kenji cared for Giorgio -- and was glad the men who’d harmed him were dead. “Regarding the groups I choose to associate myself with, Sorren secured the loyalty of the country’s strongest witches, so I’ve no choice but to seek human support. The muscle at my back, as it were.” “Sky isn’t here. Whatever you want with her, she’s not here.” Since no good could come from prolonging this encounter, Lena cut to the chase. “Curious, I’d have thought she’d stay close to her beautiful little witch, but I hear truth in your words.”

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Beside her, Matt bristled. “They were roommates. Doesn’t mean Lena even liked her.” Jaimis smiled. “Which may be so, but they were most certainly lovers. When Skyler spun that tale as a bedtime story one night, there was all truth and no exaggeration in her words.” When Matt glanced quizzically at Lena, a flush prickled across her face and neck. “In college, when we first met. We weren’t together more than a month when it became clear we didn’t share the same -- interests. We shared a mortgage and watched each other’s backs -- that’s all.” Wincing, she heard the slight untruth in her own words. Whatever Sky’s mistakes, Lena wished no harm on her old friend. “She’s not here, Mr. Quinn.” Jaimis chuckled, a deep, syrupy sound that set her teeth on edge. “Your interests were different. I appreciate the politeness of your euphemism, but since Kenji’s pet seems to have grown attached to you, let’s not hide unpleasant facts. Sweet little witch that you are, you blanched the first time Skyler brought out the whips and chains.” “Baiting you. Let it go.” Kenji rested his hand on her arm. But Matt, not Lena, lost control. Swinging into action, he landed a punch on Jaimis’s jaw. The bodyguards drew their weapons, but Jaimis motioned for them to stand down. Rather than retaliating, he brushed his hand across his chin and turned to Kenji. “You’d best keep your pet on a shorter leash.” His back to Matt, Jaimis handed Kenji a business card. “Time grows short. The card has my home address, phone number, and e-mail. A token of good faith. I know where to find you, and you know where to find me.” “And?” Kenji’s black curls stirred in a sudden wind. In the next breath, a deluge of rain soaked Jaimis’s silk shirt and expensive suit, covered his shoes in mud, and sent his bodyguards scurrying under nearby trees for shelter. Lena almost smiled at Matt’s rebellious bit of weather-working. “I’ll assume Skyler’s in Sorren’s care since she’s not with you.” Though the rain plastered Jaimis’s hair against his forehead, it did nothing to diminish the steely glint in his ice blue eyes. “Sorren’s in San Francisco.” Matt scowled. Wavy brown hair plastered to his bare shoulders by the pounding rain, he tensed, as if considering the consequences of hitting Jaimis again, then turned and took a few strides in the direction of the cabin. “Ah, that also has the ring of truth to it. I hope Sorren’s witches are treating her well. I’ll bring hell and fury itself down on them if they’ve harmed her. If you get tired of running errands for Sorren, call me, Kenji, my lad. I’ll make better use of your talents.” With as much grace as someone could muster in a downpour, Jaimis turned and walked down the drive. Although Matt headed back to the cabin as soon as the man’s back was turned, Lena stood beside Kenji as the power he’d gathered seeped back into the earth. Together, they watched Jaimis disappear around the bend.

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“If she’s mixed up with Jaimis, your roommate has lousy taste in men.” Reaching for her hand, Kenji stroked her wrist, his fingers slick with rain. “I hear she has damn fine taste in girlfriends, though.”

***** Storming through the door with hardly a thought for the silvery caress of the ward, Lena pulled up short when she saw the fear on Giorgio’s face. “Sorry.” Checking her urge to rage at Matt and Kenji, she forced herself to show Giorgio her open, empty palms -- See, no spells forming at my fingertips -- before proceeding to the table. The quiet UW grad student was a mass of bruises from the waist up, and gauze covered the deep scratches Sky had left on his back. Giorgio had just started telling them what had happened during his imprisonment when Jaimis breached their wards and called a halt to their breakfast discussion. Drugged and tied, he’d been helpless to cast the simplest spell while his captors punched, kicked, and tormented him. The shadows that crossed his eyes as he shared the story in a gentle, halting voice hinted at worse indignities. For a moment, she wondered if Kenji wasn’t so horrible to feel relieved that Giorgio’s tormentors were dead. Matt cradled Kenji’s cell phone in his palm and glanced at her with a strange mix of guilt and sympathy. Before she could ask what the hell was going on, he headed for the back door with a simple, “Next call’s private,” and a whistle for Sparrow to follow him outside. At least the sudden shower Matt summoned to torment Jaimis had blown over already. Lena was more than a little uncomfortable in the soggy sweatpants and sleep shirt, but something was up, and she didn’t plan on leaving the room to change until she knew what. When Giorgio looked up at her, a thatch of dark hair falling over his soft, brown eyes, for a moment she thought she spotted a glimmer of pity. What the hell? “I don’t understand. What’s happening?” Ignoring her question, Kenji gestured for her to sit down. He pulled a chair close to Giorgio and accepted the coffee mug the younger man held out to him. Giorgio looked boyishly innocent next to the powerful witch. In a gesture both tender and protective, Kenji reached out to touch the spot where Giorgio’s hair tapered short at the back of his neck. Since no one seemed inclined to explain what the hell was going on, Lena sank down onto a chair and claimed the third mug of coffee. The bagels and muffins didn’t appeal to her, but she needed the jolt of caffeine to shake off the doubts that had followed Jaimis’s assertion that he knew her father. Seeing as the day had started out with the sounds of Matt and Kenji having sex in the shower, it was no big surprise that events had plummeted downhill from there. They’d left the bathroom door ajar, a reminder that no one was sneaking around. All well-adjusted and out in the open -- one big, happy threesome.

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Never mind their intent -- she’d still felt like a voyeur. Worse, she’d been aroused at Matt’s commanding tone as he’d muttered gruff orders to Kenji. She’d assumed Matt took the upper hand during sex to balance Kenji’s daunting aura of power. But after this morning, she suspected Matt topped Kenji for a simpler reason. Kenji liked it that way. And so did Matt. More information than she needed before breakfast. In addition to Matt and Kenji’s romp in the shower earlier, and Giorgio’s haunting tale of violence and abuse, in moments when her defenses dropped, she pictured her home and everything inside it turned to ashes. Surreal. Absolutely surreal. “What Jaimis said about being friends with Sorren -- they knew each other well in college.” Kenji brushed his hand across her wrist to get her attention. “But there’s no love lost between them. Sorren’s not like that, Lena.” Trying to catch up with the unexpected shift in conversation, she blurted out the first thing that came into her head. “They’re both murderers, though.” Scraping his chair back, Kenji got to his feet. Despite the intimidation factor of six feet of kick-ass witch looming over her, the detail that captured her attention was the way his chest hair curled against the gap in his still-damp silk robe. Her stomach kicked out traitorous flutters as he scowled down at her. Matt picked that moment to return, letting the door slam shut behind him with a sharp crack as soon as Sparrow cleared the threshold. His eyes shone brighter than usual, and his back formed a rigid line of tension. Without a word, he tossed the cell phone onto the table. Rather than sitting with them, he paced across the room and leaned against the wall. Sparrow sat at Matt’s heels, pressing his body against his master’s legs. Glancing from Lena to Matt, Kenji seemed torn, his anger muted with a hint of concern. Giorgio looked frightened, sitting there in Kenji’s rolled-up, white pajama bottoms. “Explain.” Ignoring Matt for the moment, Kenji turned back to Lena. “When I was twelve my mother’s attacker… The man who raped her -- her brother -returned to Shady Creek. After he showed up and threatened me, my parents turned to Sorren for help.” She squared her shoulders, determined to be done with this. “Prison isn’t an option for a witch that strong -- he never would have stuck around for trial. So Sorren -took care of things. My uncle died horribly in my backyard.” Shivering, she forced back the image of the bloody corpse spread out on the grass. “Sorren didn’t do it.” Kenji’s voice held more certainty than she could deal with at the moment. In the next breath, he crossed the room and took Matt’s hand. “You made the call?” His face crumpling, Matt rested his forehead on Kenji’s shoulder. “Aaron’s taking steps to put the nursery and garden center on the market this week.” “No!” Tears pressed hot against her eyelids. Until now, she hadn’t realized she’d hoped he’d reconsider and accept Kenji’s offer of a loan. Anything to keep him from losing the business he’d worked so hard to create.

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“I couldn’t risk Aaron and our employees. People in Sparrow Ridge will have read the same tabloid articles as the people in Shady Creek. I didn’t think it would get this bad, but Lena, when they burned your house…” Pressing his face against Kenji’s neck, he let loose a heaving sigh. Although Giorgio got up from the table and went over to rest a hand on Matt’s shoulder, Lena stood rooted to the floor. Holy goddess, how do you comfort someone who’s

surrendered his dreams? “I wish we had time to sit and let this sink in, but we’ve got a lot to do before we leave. Now that Jaimis knows where to find us, we’re not safe here.” Stroking Matt’s bare chest, Kenji tilted his head to look at Lena. “I talked to Sorren before you got up this morning. He’s still in California, and with the situation in Florida getting dire, he wants us to anchor a circle there.” Holy goddess, she couldn’t even begin to absorb all this. “Us?” “Me, you, Matt. Us.” Reaching out for Giorgio’s hand, he pulled him close, with Matt tucked into the center of their embrace. “Giorgio’s going to join us in one of the pairs. Sorren’s sending his private jet, so we’ve got a couple of hours to pick up supplies before we leave.” “Florida?” Sweet Brighid, had he and Matt discussed all this while she showered this morning? Breaking into a clammy sweat, she tried to catch up with the new direction her life seemed to be taking. With a grimace, she realized she’d have to call the library and give her resignation. Like Matt, her livelihood vanished in the smoke when her house burned. Returning to Shady Creek wasn’t an option. “The Florida circle failed, and a monster of a storm’s going to make landfall in the next couple of days, if we can’t cool the ocean and calm the winds.” Kenji’s voice sounded as matter-of-fact as if he’d announced they needed to return to Ann Arbor with him to help take inventory in his bookstore.

Cool the ocean and calm the winds. Not a problem. Lena’s stomach clenched, and she fought the urge to break into hysterical laughter. “I’d have preferred to leave Giorgio out of it, but with Jaimis on the scene, it’s not safe to leave him here.” Kenji’s brow wrinkled, and he reached up to touch the silky black thatch of hair that fell across Giorgio’s eyes. “I can pull my weight. Sorren wouldn’t have invited me into the Wisconsin circle if I wasn’t able to wield a decent amount of power.” Eyes flashing at the perceived slight, Giorgio took a step back from Matt and Kenji. “No doubt of that.” With a conciliatory nod, Kenji continued. “I’d rather have you there than most witches I’ve met -- just hate to put you through it after everything that’s happened to you already.”

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When Matt made a sound like a muffled sob, Lena realized Kenji intended the discussion of their Florida plans as a distraction -- giving Matt space to grieve. Tearing free from the helpless sense of inertia, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. Almost masked by the smell of orchards, she detected a mix of sweat and fear. Where do you go next, when everything you’ve worked for is gone? Sweet goddess, she understood that feeling -- pain mingling with regret -- all too well. Murmuring something she hoped sounded soothing, she reached up to cup her palm against his cheek. His skin was damp against her hand, and she wished she could be alone with him so she could offer more intimate expressions of comfort. Sparrow shifted to press against her legs, and when Matt bent to pat the dog, he avoided her eyes. “I made a call before you came in -- while you and Kenji were out making sure Jaimis didn’t plan on hanging around.” Still avoiding Lena’s gaze, Matt cleared his throat. “What’s going on here?” And why didn’t she think she wanted to hear the answer to that question? “I told Scott to take Serena up to Sorren’s estate. If Jaimis ordered Skyler and Giorgio’s capture -- and by his own admission, he did -- your sister’s not safe in Shady Creek. Jaimis knows who you are -- knows your family, and where to find Serena -- and since we don’t know what he’s up to, we need to move her to a more secure location.” Still crouched beside Sparrow, Matt reached for her hand, but she took a few, halting steps backward. With the knowledge that her sister was safe, a niggling fear eased away. Whatever Sorren’s questionable morals, he’d protected her family before, and she knew he’d watch over Serena. But in the next instant, an avalanche of grief and regret bore down on her, crowding out rational thought. “No!” she cried. “My mother will die with no family beside her! I promised I’d be there when she crossed over. And now -- without even Serena there…” Dropping to her knees, she fought back tears. In this, too, she’d failed her mother. A haze of footsteps and voices crowded around her, disembodied from any coherent sense. As her anger and despair rose, wilder and hotter, something crashed across the room. Oh, goddess. Not now. Not here. Tucking her head to her knees, she crouched with her hands over her neck, trying to paste herself back together. But it was too late. Giorgio cried out, and something heavy fell close by. Whimpering, Sparrow licked her face. She felt a tug of power -- Kenji’s -- but even he wouldn’t be able to stop this. Like lightning flickering across a pond, the force gathered, ripped through her, and released. Shards of glass rained down around her, and the sound of splintering wood echoed through the room. Helpless in the face of the destruction she wrought, she wondered if this time the fury would consume her. The force scorched through her mind as it spent itself, until she feared she’d dissolve into a pile of ash. Someone cried out, shrill and wild. She

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didn’t recognize the voice as her own until Matt curled his body over her back, cooling her fiery grief with the promise of rain.

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Chapter Twelve By the time the frenzy spent itself, sweat drenched her hair and beaded along her spine. The silence crept up on them like a ghost, large and stealthy in the wake of the ungodly clamor. Trembling, she attempted to free herself from Matt’s arms. She’d tried to tell him what her mother had known all along. She was a monster. Now he’d seen for himself. Forcing her eyes open, she stared at the wreckage around her. Splintered chairs, broken dishes, and worst of all, pages from books scattered about like slaughtered birds. “Watch the glass. Let’s get her into the bedroom.” Kenji touched her cheek as Matt lifted her into his arms. Too spent to protest, she concentrated on keeping her morning coffee down as nausea gripped her. Matt settled her on the chair beside the bed, and while he tugged off the oversized sweatpants she’d borrowed, Kenji unbuttoned her sleep shirt. She shivered as cool air brushed across her sweaty skin. Wood slivers speckled her hair, and she winced when one scratched her neck. When Giorgio appeared with a damp cloth, she identified the faint, coppery smell of blood. With gentle hands, he wiped along her hairline. “There, just a scratch where a bit of glass nicked your forehead.” Once they’d undressed her, Matt slid her under the blankets. She hadn’t lost control like that since she was a teenager. And never in front of anyone. She’d always fled to her room when the fury gripped her. Her parents had thought she had tantrums and lectured her for trashing her things. But she’d suspected her mother knew the truth. As the chills took hold, Matt curled against her back. Kenji shed his robe -- covered with splinters and bits of paper -- and snuggled up close to her, and Giorgio lay across her feet. When Matt whistled, Sparrow jumped up on the bed and settled close to Lena’s head.

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She couldn’t say how long they stayed like that, sharing their warmth with her as she fought the sickening energy drain that followed such excess. But at some point, her body stopped shaking, and she let herself cry. “I don’t know half of what’s going on, dropped down into the middle of everything like I was, but I got that your mother’s dying, and it’s not safe for you or your sister to stay with her.” Giorgio sounded so earnest, and touched by his concern, she reached out to squeeze his hand. “And I got that your family’s a nightmare -- which makes saying good-bye more important, not less.” How Giorgio understood that was beyond her, but she nodded, grateful he’d grasped the situation. “Keeping a promise, being there at the end -- it won’t help, not the way you hope it will. Something like that -- you’re never free of it.” Girogio’s voice held steady, but his words conveyed a world of pain. So, at some point he’d had to say good-bye to someone who’d hurt him, and it hadn’t given him peace. “Who?” Lena knew she shouldn’t pry, but she wanted to understand. “My grandmother -- on the human side of the family. She raised me, and though she meant well, she saw me as an abomination. Being there to say good-bye didn’t fix that.” Lena shook her head. “No, it couldn’t.” Maybe nothing could free her from the grip her mother had on her. Bottom line -- her mother knew her for what she was. And now Matt -- not to mention Kenji and Giorgio -did too. Stroking her leg, Kenji pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Your talent’s unusual, Lena-cat, maybe even unique. And it must have been hell having to hide it. If someone had worked with you, guided you, you’d have learned to control it by now.” Her face flushed hot and prickly as she remembered that Kenji could pick up some of her thoughts. But instead of calling her to task for the turmoil coiling through her, he called her by a childhood nickname she hadn’t heard since her father died. “Sorry. I didn’t know your dad used to call you that. Just fits, with the way you move, and the way you curl into yourself like a sleeping cat when you’re sad.” Kenji touched her face. “What you did just now -- it’s a talent, not a curse. Imagine what a gift it will be when you learn to harness the skill.” For a moment, she could almost believe him. But his words couldn’t change the fact that, at twenty-six, she was no closer to being able to control the fury than when she was six. And the fact still remained -- nothing could soften the guilt of leaving her mother to die alone.

*****

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Stretched limply on the satin coverlet, Lena stared at the Impressionist landscape hanging on the wall opposite the ornate bed. The ride in Sorren’s private jet would have been a smoother experience if Sparrow hadn’t hidden under a seat and whimpered for the duration of the flight. But the posh hotel she could appreciate. When Sorren booked a room, he didn’t mess around. Although she’d feel less guilty about having smuggled Sparrow in with them if they were staying at a budget motel. Nonetheless, here they were. After what happened this morning, the prospect of anchoring the Florida rite hardly fazed her. In a fog, she’d called Jane and explained she wouldn’t be returning to work. Though her supervisor at the library was both friend and mentor, Jane hadn’t been able to hide a note of relief when she accepted Lena’s resignation. No one wanted someone accused of participating in dark rites recommending summer reading to the children of Shady Creek. Forcing the thought from her mind, she snuggled deeper into the soft bedding. When they’d stopped to buy some things on the way to the hotel, Matt added a silk bathrobe to the pile of shorts, shirts, and lingerie. The green silk caressed her skin when she moved. Matt had chosen both color and texture to suit her tastes. The door connecting the two bedrooms to the living area of the suite stood ajar, and she heard running water. Kenji was on the phone with Sorren again, his voice steady and self-assured, so Giorgio must be the one in the bath. With what lay ahead, she was glad Giorgio had the chance to rest and soak his hurts before the rite. None of them liked dragging him into this, but he seemed eager to help. A hell of a lot more eager than she was, when you came right down to it. If it weren’t for Kenji’s insistence, she’d as soon have bowed out and left Florida to its fate. “Dark thoughts, little witch.” Standing in the doorway between the bedroom and the central room of the suite, Matt looked like he might be having some dark thoughts himself. He’d tied his hair back at the nape of his neck, and his eyes held the shadowy, bottomless look of someone who’d stepped off a precipice and didn’t much care what happened when he hit the ground. His tight black T-shirt hugged the contours of his chest, and despite the summer weather, he’d opted for jeans rather than shorts. When he settled beside her on the bed, she reached for his hand. Maybe if they hit bottom together, it wouldn’t hurt so much. She wasn’t naïve enough to imagine she couldn’t plunge lower. Now that she’d lost everything, who knew what might happen during free fall? “Kenji said it was -- difficult -- anchoring the rite, channeling the energy without participating directly.” Though it took her a moment to work through what Matt meant, when she figured things out her mouth twitched into a wry grin. “You mean difficult for him to watch everyone screwing -- to stand there at the center like a ringmaster in some sort of arcane porno flick?” “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you little witch?”

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When he clicked the door shut behind him, she jumped. “Make what easy?” Hell, what had been easy about having him see her trash Kenji’s cabin earlier? If he expected easy, he’d come to the wrong person. “I, ah, Kenji suggested…” Coming over to sit beside her on the edge of the bed, he reached out to touch her hair. “Oh, goddess, if that’s all you want.” Sweet Brighid, had he suddenly gone shy on her? After what he’d seen this morning, she had no doubt Matt would abandon his idealistic notions of having some kind of relationship with her. But having someone to hold onto while the world came to pieces around her -- literally, if they failed to deflect the storm -might not be such a bad thing. If nothing else, this would keep her mind off what lay ahead. They weren’t gathering at the loft -- volunteered by the witch who owned it, seeing as an outdoor rite was impossible due to the weather-- until close to midnight. And with the possibility that Jaimis might put in an appearance, it wasn’t as if she could go sightseeing. As Matt touched his fingers to her forehead, she set loose her string of rationalizations and admitted she just plain wanted to be with him. If he’d have her… “You’re sure about this? I mean, after what I did to Kenji’s place? After what you saw?”

You’re sure you want to have sex with some kind of freak who can’t control her own power? “Do you know why Sorren wants us to anchor the rite tonight?” Okay, quite a conversational leap there, but she’d play along. “No. Why?” “Because he thinks your magic -- or ours, combined -- skewed the Midwestern group’s circle so strongly we aren’t likely to have to repeat another rite in our home region.” That was a bit tough to swallow, and she didn’t have a clue where he was going with this. “Even if that were true -- so?” “So what I saw this morning is the flip side of that coin. You’re an earth healer, a rare gift, Lena. And the other side of that is harsher, more destructive. Your moods manifest themselves -- sometimes violently -- in the physical environment.” Leaning close, he brushed his lips across the tip of her nose. “Your magic is strong -- uncontrolled in some cases -- but you know what that makes you?” “Something less than human?” Her father’s insistence that they were human -- with a little something extra, like the cherry on top of the sundae -- seemed less and less plausible. “Sometimes I don’t know if I want to shake you or love you senseless. No, in a million ways, we’re not human. But not something less, little witch. Something more. Your abilities are unique, and that makes you unbelievably precious. Earth healer, Lena. Think of that.” Oh, goddess, all she’d ever wanted was to be a damn fine children’s librarian -- and to be so normal her mother wouldn’t look at her with fear and loathing in her eyes. Right now, she couldn’t have said who she was -- other than her name -- if her life depended on it.

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Stripping off his shirt, Matt stretched out beside her on the satin spread. Weary and reluctant to continue the conversation, she reached behind his neck to remove the leather band, letting his hair pool around his shoulders, soft, wavy, and smelling of pine forests. “Your parents set you up, little witch. If you weren’t human, as your dad insisted, then you must be some sort of fiend, like your mother feared. You’re smart enough to know evil isn’t hereditary. Your ethics -- you got those from your dad -- the one who raised you and who taught you how to ride a bike, built the solstice bonfires twice a year, read to you at night…” Not eager to display the rush of emotion he’d summoned by naming some of her most vivid memories of her father, she pressed her forehead against Matt’s chest, hiding her face. Warmth rolled off him like sun on pine boughs, heady and seductive. “And you’re smart enough to know your dad led you astray with his insistence that witches are human. You’re too talented to pass for anything other than who you are. A powerful witch. A woman with phenomenal gifts,” pausing to kiss her, he drew her into a hazy warmth that lasted so long she hoped he’d forget to finish his thought, “and great beauty.” Blushing, she struggled free of his embrace. “We bear children with humans. We bleed the same, pass on genetic diseases, die of cancer.” With a shake of her head, she tried to dismiss the image of her mom lying at the hospice center, with no family at her side. “Sneeze when the ragweed’s blooming, get arthritic with old age, look the same, share the same emotions, live by the same laws…” A harsh voice inside her added the counterpoint. We’re untouched by viruses or

contagious disease, and are genetically distinct from other people. We have a range of psychic talents that would scare the pants off the rest of humanity. Women witches control our own fertility -- except in horrific circumstances. And the whole lot of us has been hunted in the name of hate and fear throughout the ages. “No, we don’t live by the same laws. No one knows that better than me, because my mother had no clue what a witch was. I knew I was so different, nothing I’d ever read or heard about applied to me. I didn’t fit any kind of reality within laws of nature I’d been taught were inviolable.” Startled by the bitterness in his voice, she pressed her palm flat against his chest, offering comfort and seeking reassurance. “Finding Kenji saved you.” Not a question, a statement of fact. He must have gone half mad, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Why he could do things that should have been impossible. “I was fourteen when we met -- was drawn to him because I knew he was like me.” Matt’s lip turned up in a half smile. “What I didn’t realize at the time was that we had a lot more than sexual attraction in common.” Lena nodded. Maybe Matt had more of a point than she wanted to admit. Maybe she was less human than she wanted to believe. Or in keeping with Matt’s world view, not less --

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but something different entirely. “Skyler liked to say witches are ambisexual, you know, like ambidextrous?” That provoked a laugh, and his entire face shone with mirth. “Sex and magic, magic and sex. If the magic fits, it doesn’t care what parts someone’s got, the attraction’s going to be there, just the same.” When she remained quiet, he unzipped his jeans, slid them past his hips, and snuggled close. His warmth penetrated the silky fabric of her robe, but her thoughts were with Sky. She missed her roommate’s cheeky humor. And no matter how angry she was about Sky talking to the press, she shuddered at the thought of Jaimis using her for his own dark purposes. “She made her choices, little witch. When Kenji talked to Scott, he made it clear Sky waltzed out the door and kissed Jaimis hello. No one forced her to leave with Jaimis this afternoon. There were enough witches at Sorren’s estate to have answered any challenge Jaimis might have issued.” “I know.” If nothing else, Serena was safe in northern Minnesota, surrounded by miles of wilderness, staying at an estate fit for royalty and protected by more witches than Lena had met in her lifetime. Lena might question Sorren’s ethics, but he’d keep her sister safe from vigilantes and crazy witches like Jaimis. “If he were crazy, things would be a lot easier. But Jaimis is smart, sane, powerful, and operating with a hidden agenda.” Matt frowned. By now, she’d learned not to be surprised when he picked up her thoughts. Well, almost. “And whatever his agenda, chances are Sky played right into it this morning when she left with him.” Lena’s stomach clenched, and she wondered what would happen to Sky. Nothing either of them could say to ease the worry in that, so instead, Matt moved close enough to let his erection brush her thigh.

***** By the Horned God, he’d done his part to try to reassure her, to convince her that a powerful witch isn’t such an awful thing to be, but his body had reached its limit. No more conversation. Not this afternoon. Or was it evening? He couldn’t tell by the light coming through the curtains, seeing as the sky was leaden and heavy with clouds. Maybe the storm drove his need. His gift for weather working played nicely into his gift with green, growing things. But when a storm blew in, the weather got tangled up with his mood. About now, he felt as wild and dangerous as the lightning slashing outside the hotel windows. And although the thought of messing with a hurricane didn’t seem to faze Lena, he was half scared out of his wits at the thought of what lay ahead tonight. If they failed, that storm would rip across the coast in a couple days, taking lives and livelihoods with it. As someone

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who’d given up his land, he couldn’t stand the thought of even one person losing everything she or he held dear. When Lena touched his face, he tried to check the rising fury inside him. If he climbed on top of her right this instant, neither one of them would like how rough things were going to get. “Let’s try things my way.” He had a hunch she’d never explored some of the finer points of sex and magic. Not if Skyler was the only witch she’d paired off with, anyway. After getting a look at Giorgio’s back, he suspected Sky used her power for darker purposes in bed. “What’s your way?” Her eyes gleaming with curiosity, she sat up and leaned forward just enough that the silky green robe fell open to reveal her breasts, and her hair cascaded down her back like a shower of moonlight. Itching for a quick revision of his plans, it took all his self-control not to answer that his way was rough, fast, and oh-so-deep. “Let your power overflow a bit. Just enough that it spills out around you like a cloak.” Although she frowned and shook her head, she complied. When the energy spilled around her, his cock jumped in appreciation. Sex and magic. Hell of a pair. “Now take off your robe.” As she slipped out of the shimmering green cloth, Matt glanced at the pile of pillows in the corner of the room to make sure Sparrow still slept. Curled up like a puppy, the shepherd lay in a tight ball with his tail draped across his nose. “Now what?” Her skin so pale it was almost translucent in the light of the bedside lamp, Lena sat with her feet tucked under her bottom and her arms folded across her chest. Her green eyes shone with an unearthly brightness -- enough in and of itself to let any witch know she was one of them. “Here,” with one hand at the back of her neck and the other at the base of her spine, he slid her down to rest against the pillows piled at the head of the bed. “You can close your eyes if you want. Just relax.” When she stiffened at the request, he leaned across her to turn out the lamp, so only the gray half-light coming through the drapes lit the room. “I’m not going to touch your body. Just your power.” The tension on her face changed to confusion, and she stared up at him as he swept his hand along the length of her body, keeping his palm within an inch of her skin, but never touching. Her aura shivered under his fingertips, casting a sky blue glow across her small frame. Answering the call, power to power, a soft haze of violet energy formed around him. “This is sort of spooky.”

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“Nope, just another way to celebrate who we are. I promise -- you’re going to like this.” Like this. Hell, the first time Kenji tried this on him, he’d been so drunk with pleasure it took hours to come off the high. Eager to smooth the worry from her wrinkled brow, he let the energy settle, pooling around his outspread fingers. Not wanting to startle her, he began with her hands, caressing liquid power across her aura. “What’s that?” Her shoulders rigid with tension, she started to sit up, but he shook his head. “Magic on magic. My power calling yours. Please, just give it a try?” The plaintive note in his voice must have done the trick, because although he wouldn’t say she relaxed, at least she settled back on the pillows. This time, he skipped the subtle approach and brushed his hand across the glow of blue light covering her breasts. Finally, her eyes fluttered shut, and she let out a little sigh. “That’s more like it.” Moving oh so slowly, he closed his eyes and felt his way along the flow of power surrounding her body. Warmth moved up his arm, and he groaned with satisfaction as it spread through his senses. Without opening his eyes, he knew when she arched her hips toward his hand, her aura pushing at his like a buffer of hot air. One palm above her breasts, the other above her hips, he let the currents mingle, twining around each other like cats in heat. A drop of dew formed on the tip of his cock, and his sac pulled up tight against his body. He knew he could make her come just from the brush of energy on energy. But she didn’t -- not yet. Little shivers rushed across his skin in anticipation of her pleasure. Whether she liked it or not, they were bound closely enough that he’d feel echoes of her bliss. After the rite tonight, he guessed they’d be tied even closer to each other, but telling her that would cause more friction than it was worth. “Feel me?” He knew she did. Could feel the ripples of pleasure darting up her spine. Had done this often enough with Kenji that he knew what she was experiencing even without the link they shared. “Yes.” The raw longing in her voice cut through him, and opening his eyes, he watched her arch and writhe under his gentle strokes. Every last fiber of hungry male animal rebelled when he brushed his hand over the aura surrounding her breasts -- and didn’t touch flesh. If he didn’t move this along, he might just lose control. “I want to feel your touch.” Her hair streaming out around her like a storm of moonbeams, she tossed her head on the mound of pillows. When he didn’t answer, she opened her eyes and nailed him with the intensity of her glance. “I need to feel your hands on me.”

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Breathing so hard he felt light-headed, he reached inward and called his power. Letting the force stream out around him, he wove the violet rush of light with the cerulean blue surrounding Lena, knotting the streams tighter and tighter, until they both panted for air. The tug of their combined magic sucked him under, pulling him into a vortex of molten need. Higher, tighter, his heart pounding as he spun channels of energy around them, he felt like he’d burst into flame if she didn’t let go soon. And then, with a shout that woke Sparrow and brought the dog snuffling to the foot of the bed to investigate, Lena’s porcelain pale body arched so violently only her feet and shoulders touched the bed.

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Chapter Thirteen Riding her pleasure, Matt bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Alien sensations tore through him, helpless spasms and the driving, wet rush of release. The fields of energy around them merged into a lilac cocoon, pressing them together until there was no room for air. Clenching his fists so hard his hands stung, he fought to stay with her without coming himself. The struggle left him curled into a fetal position beside her, but when her cries subsided, he remained rock hard and ready for whatever came next. When he noticed tears on her cheeks, remorse slammed into him like a lightning bolt. “Shit, I’m sorry. Please, little witch, don’t cry. I thought you’d like it.” Cupping his hand close to her cheek, he leaned forward to kiss her. “No, I mean, it’s not you. Just everything’s been so out of control, and…” In a gesture so childlike it damn near broke his heart, she wiped the back of her hand across her face. “What do you want, Matt? I mean, after what we’ve lost this week, what’s left?” That took him by surprise, and he took a minute to consider as he stroked the unbelievable softness of her belly. “To walk out of this safe and whole. Maybe start over with a piece of land somewhere…” The expression that flitted across her face was so sad he knew he’d said the wrong thing, but what could she have been hoping to hear? That it would be all right? That their lost goals could be replaced as easily as fixing a shattered pane of glass? “What, little witch? You look so sad. What do you want?” For a while, the wailing of the wind and slashing of the rain against the windows were the only sounds. The room grew darker, the stormy half-light thickening with dusk. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what I want.”

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***** Maybe that was true, but with his power still swirling around her like the feathers of a thousand small birds, she knew she wanted to be included in his goals. Irrational, impossible, and cruel, since she couldn’t offer any more of herself than the present moment, but that’s what she’d wanted to hear. “Touch me now? With your hands? Your skin?” Goddess, she wanted him. Nothing had prepared her for the dizzying climb and crashing, bone-wrenching orgasm he’d just given her. But he smelled of sex and desperation, a musky scent mixed with the usual hint of pine forests and orchards. And although her body felt boneless and spent, she wanted to dive into that smell. When someone cried out in the next room, a deep, guttural sound, Lena watched a shadow of pain cross Matt’s face. He wanted her, maybe even loved her, judging from the intensity of the emotions she’d been caught up in while his power danced across her flesh. But he’d loved Kenji for a long, long time, and having Giorgio arrive on the scene amounted to another loss. “Kenji and I never could have been together, not like that.” Schooling his expression into a soft, open smile, he nestled his hand against the side of her head. “He owns a place in my heart -- hell, a piece of my soul. But we settled so far apart -- him in Ann Arbor, me in Sparrow Ridge -- to give each other room to breathe. At the cabin, we can come together without driving each other crazy, but we’re too different, Lena-cat.” Hearing him use her father’s favorite endearment, she swallowed a knot in her throat. If she could have chosen which parent died in a head-on collision when she was fourteen, it would have been her mother, hands down. Which did nothing to mitigate the hellish guilt she felt at not being by her mom’s bedside. Again, she wondered if by failing to satisfy that last request, she’d lose her only chance for freedom. “Dark thoughts, little witch.” He held her gaze so long, she wondered if she’d be able to look away when she tried, and then his mouth formed a silent O of understanding. “You’re afraid she’ll continue to walk your dreams, that her magic will be strong enough to cross the barrier between worlds.” Fear, hot and sour, twisted through her gut and left her breathless. “Yes.” Her mother’s words snaked through her consciousness like a threat. Do this one thing

for me. Don’t let me die alone. I’ve not done right by you, and I need to know I carry your forgiveness with me when I cross the bridge of death. Do this one thing for me -- let me have your mercy -- and you’ll be free of the weight of my dreams. “She’s a dream walker, Matt. I struggled to keep her out, even in this life.” Something inside her knew her mother would be more powerful in the next.

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Maybe it was the connection Lena had with her father. The way a cherished memory would drift unbidden into her thoughts when she felt sad, like his hand brushing the hair back from her forehead. The way the ghostly scent of his aftershave clung to her house -- the one that had burned -- the one he hadn’t lived long enough to see, but where he had walked often enough as a spirit. “Look, I don’t have answers, but Kenji might. If that’s what you fear most, we’ll find a way to guard your dreams.” With Kenji loving another man in the next room, Matt sat here trying to soothe her. She didn’t know when she’d become so monumentally selfish. But she was tangled up in his thoughts enough to know how much he hurt, and she should be the one offering comfort. “Love me -- I mean, make love to me?” In the name of Isis, what provoked her to use those words? “You spun my world around just now, when you touched my aura with your magic. Now I need to feel you inside me.” Muscles rippling across his chest and stomach as he moved, Matt got up and hunted through the travel bag he’d left on the ornately carved dresser. Sparrow followed, sniffing at his ankles, and he scratched behind the shepherd’s ears before returning to bed. Whatever he got up for fit in his palm, and as he bent to kiss her, he tucked it under the pillow. “Sparrow Ridge.” Tilting her head before he could claim another kiss, she blurted out the rest of her thought. “You didn’t just name Sparrow for the bird that hopped onto your palm. You chose the name for the town you made your own. For the land you loved. So you could carry a piece of what you’d accomplished with you, even if you had to let go of your dreams.” Free fall. As he pulled back and rested his hands on her shoulders, she fell with him. He didn’t answer, didn’t need to, because she knew she was right. When he lowered himself, letting his weight pin her to the bed, somehow they both stopped falling. His hair brushed her cheeks when he kissed her, a half-starved kiss, delving into her mouth with his tongue as if he could swallow up her hunger along with his own. A slow ache started at the base of her spine and clenched deep inside her. His chest hair brushed her nipples as he moved, and his breath fanned hot against her mouth. “You’ve seen the ethereal side of witch sex. This time, I have something earthier in mind.” His hands found her breasts as he spoke, and bypassing tender caresses, he pinched her nipples between thumb and forefinger, hard enough to sting. Tracing his spine with her palms, she arched against skin, bone, and muscle, half inclined to sink her teeth into him and never let go. She could do earthy. Goddess help her, with him, she expected she could do just about anything. When he lifted his upper body and bent his head, she thought he was easing down to reach her breasts. But instead, he bit along her collarbone, each nip sharp enough to send shudders of pleasure-pain radiating out from the spot.

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She squirmed under him, trying to get enough leverage to nibble some part of his body. When she succeeded, she latched on, bothering his shoulder for all she was worth. She pulled back, repentant, when he let out a startled gasp. The only person she’d ever been with who liked -- an edge -- to sex was Sky. With Matt, she wasn’t sure how far to go. “Sink your teeth into my skin, little witch. You won’t hurt me.” When she nipped his ear, he chuckled. “Not too much, anyway.” The next several minutes -- or for all she knew, it could have been hours -- were lost as they explored every inch of each other’s body with lips, tongues, and teeth. She’d never expected a nip at the base of her spine could be so erotic it pushed her to the edge of ecstasy. That she’d like it when he sucked her toes, but be half wild to get him off of her when his teeth touched her belly. She found at least seven individual erogenous zones in the vicinity of his knee, and tickled him just shy of coming before he even entered her. He liked his eyelids licked, but couldn’t stand to have his face restrained between her hands. When she touched the soft crease on the underside of his elbow, he purred like a young lion. All night wouldn’t have been long enough to learn the shape of him, the taste of his skin. But he was less patient. After she spent several minutes exploring the texture of his nipple with the pads of her fingers, he grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her stomach. Her startled shriek elicited both a chuckle from Matt and a sharp woof from Sparrow, necessitating an interruption while Matt settled the dog back on the nest of pillows in the corner. She waited, heart pounding, and wondered what he had in mind. The silk of the bedspread teased her taut nipples and caressed her thighs, like warm milk on melting honey. When he knelt over her legs, she shivered in anticipation. Any way he wanted her, any way his body could merge with hers, she was hungry for him. She cooed with delight when he reached beneath her and cupped his palm against her pubic bone. When he slid two fingers inside her and curved them to hit her sweet spot, she stretched her arm behind her to grab his hand. Licks of light darted across her closed eyelids as he stroked her, and she dug her nails into his palm. When he pulled away, she almost snarled in frustration. “Now. I’m more than halfway there already.” “Now’s what I had in mind, little witch.” Goddess help her, she was even starting to like that ridiculous endearment. As she wondered if she was getting too attached, seeing as she wouldn’t be able to keep him, he slid his hand under the pillow to retrieve something. She didn’t know what to expect. A feather to tease her? A small stone to focus power for a spell? But when she heard a cap snap open, she was curious enough to slide into his thoughts.

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And when she picked up his intent, her muscles twisted into instant coils of tension. “Matt?” Rather than answer the implied question, he rested his palm at the base of her spine, and she sighed, comforted by the warmth of his touch. When he moved his thumb across her tailbone, she decided he could do whatever he wanted, just so long as he spread the weight of his body over hers in the next five seconds. “You undermine my better judgment, witch.” Lena’s voice shook with desire and nervous anticipation. His answering chuckle tickled across her senses. “I’m not squeamish, you know. I tried this once, but it hurt too much to finish.” What in the name of Isis made her think it would be better this time? Still stroking his thumb across the base of her spine, he leaned forward to kiss her shoulder blade. “You weren’t relaxed enough, and I’m betting you used the wrong kind of lube.” Seeing as since there are different kinds? would make her sound like a babe in the woods, she didn’t argue the point. “And you think you can make me relax now?” “Yeah.” Nothing like an overabundance of confidence. But then, she never would have guessed she’d come from the mere brush of his aura against hers. When he lifted her hips to slide a pillow underneath them, she forced herself to breathe evenly. Tense? Not a bit. “You’re trying too hard. Trust me.” She felt the faintest touch of power ripple across her senses, like cool, silvery fingers of water teasing along her skin. He slid his hand between her breast and the mattress, cupping her until her flesh warmed, and when she thought she’d go mad if he didn’t increase the sensation, he rolled her nipple between his thumb and fingers. The smell of her own arousal mixed with a whiff of apple blossoms, and she let herself ride the sensations. When he bent forward so his hair brushed her back, she whimpered like a lost kitten. So much for pride. “Soon.” Easing forward, he let her feel the length of his cock against the crease of her ass. He lay there for a minute, letting her get used to the idea, then shifted to lie beside her. “This will be a bit cold.” And slippery. She shivered as he spread the lubricant and let out an involuntary “Oh” of surprise when he slid his thumb into her ass. When she didn’t think about the fact that he was stretching her, preparing her for what came next, she could almost enjoy the deep, lazy pleasure of the strokes.

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Nerves fluttered through her belly, and her shoulders tightened when he shifted his weight onto her back, but he’d anticipated that, and a soft push of his power against hers left her panting and boneless. “Cheater.” “I thought we were on the same team?” Another nudge of energy on energy, and he had her wet enough to stain the spread. But somehow, pulling the covers down didn’t seem that important right now. “Yeah, same team.” “Little tug,” he slipped his thumb free, “and then a little push.” Gently, he pressed against her ass, not hard enough to enter, but with enough pressure to let her get used to the idea. “I love you, Lena.” The words exploded across her consciousness, followed by the healing brush of his magic, and in the midst of all that, he slid past the tight ring of muscle, easy as silk on silk. “I can’t -- I mean, I can’t love you the way you deserve, I…” “I know -- the whole thing with your unusual talents and your conviction that they make you some kind of freak.” Sliding forward, he claimed another inch, and she whimpered. “I don’t expect you to love me back. The love comes free -- no strings attached. Just take it for what it is. But I promise you this much -- before you’re done with me, I’m going to convince you you’re good enough to be loved. If not by me, then by someone else.” Bless it, she didn’t for the life of her know what to say to that. And at the moment, focusing 100 percent of her attention on the physical aspects of their union seemed crucially important. But Matt’s thoughts battered her will. How good she smelled, like peaches. How tight her ass was. How good it would be to have her beside him every morning. What the curve of her breast felt like against his palm. How much he loved her… Choking on that part, she wondered if he was tangled as tightly in her thoughts. “Does it hurt?” Words felt heavy and clunky after being wrapped around his mind. Crashing back into the physical world, she did a quick inventory. No tearing pain, no urgent desire to order him out, no fear or impending sense of panic. “No.” The smooth, radiating pressure had her a lot wetter, a lot hotter than when they’d started. A touch of danger sharpened her senses -- an edgy awareness that they were doing something that made her uneasy. But no pain. Not physically, anyway. Her heart, though, felt like someone plunged a sword into it. He couldn’t love her. She’d hurt him, and seeing the grief on his face would be too much for her. Because like her, he’d lost everything this week. And it would half kill her to make things worse for him than they were already.

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“Don’t try to think. Just focus on the sensations. Feel the movement. Feel the stretch. Feel how tight I fill you.” With a satiny tug, her stomach fluttered, the skin across her back twitched, and she sank into a pool of pure lust. “You’re cheating again?” A question, because she hadn’t noticed the brush of his magic, but the simple pressure of skin on skin couldn’t possibly make her feel this good. “No. Just me and you now. Feel the rhythm.” When she concentrated, she picked up the pattern. Three gentle pushes in, and one long, smooth glide as he withdrew. On the next stroke, she arched upward to meet the firm pressure of the downward push, and clenched tight as he pulled back. “You’re going to kill me, little witch.” He spoke in a low, guttural growl, as if he were gritting his teeth. “Mmm.” When he slid his hand under her, just so, and brushed his thumb across her clit, she gave up the effort to communicate. His body strained on top of hers, a taut mass of muscle and need, and she buried a groan in the mound of pillows. Then he skipped the three little pushes, plunging in with one smooth, downward stroke, and she didn’t even try to stifle her yell. In the midst of the drowning, soaring wildness that gripped them, there was a faint creak as the door opened, and she knew someone had come to check on her. But she couldn’t find it in her to care. There was pain now, like the bite of his teeth on her skin earlier, but darker, deeper, more arousing. “Breathe with me.” She realized she’d been holding her breath and let it out in a sharp whoosh before filling her lungs with air again. Finding the rhythm of his breath, she matched it, inhaling and exhaling along with him. And the pain receded into comfortable warmth. Something changed, maybe the pattern of his movements or his increasingly rapid breathing, but whatever it was, it tugged at the bond between them until his thoughts and feelings spilled over into hers, and she could no longer separate the two. Spiraling upward, she felt wind and rain battering her body, then sharp licks of heat. And through it all, she quivered at the steady stretch and release, sharing space she hadn’t believed was meant to be shared. Not with this much passion, anyway. “With me, little witch. Now!” Pressing his palm against her clit, he buried his cock deep in her ass and cried out when he came, trembling as if he’d fall to pieces on top of her. Half a breath later, she plummeted over the edge, the intensity of the moment magnified by the bond they shared -- hopelessly tangled up in each other’s bodies and minds. “Too much!” The words trailed off into a wail as her orgasm ripped through her, leaving her panting for air.

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Too much. Not the ferocity of her climax, or even the throbbing sensation when pain replaced pleasure. Her feelings for him. Too confusing. Too dangerous. “Easy there. Take a deep breath, then let it out all at once.” She did what he said, and he withdrew while she exhaled. Uttering a murmur of protest through gritted teeth, she rolled onto her side and buried her head in her arms. When someone settled on the bed beside her, she didn’t complain. So Kenji had watched. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been in bed with both of them before. But when his fingers massaged the back of her neck, the brush of power felt lighter, gentler than she expected. Giorgio. Drifting in the twilight of intense emotion mixed with intense sex, she let herself ease toward sleep as Matt spooned his body against the curve of her back. The bed shifted as someone lay down on the other side, next to Matt. Just awake enough to reason out that if Giorgio was nestled against her stomach, stroking her neck with his smooth, warm hands, then Kenji must have settled beside Matt, she decided there was safety in numbers. With goddess knew what about to break loose at the rite later, if they wanted to curl up around her like a litter of puppies, she wasn’t going to complain.

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Chapter Fourteen Casting himself out onto the dreamscape, Kenji worked to find balance before walking Giorgio’s dreams. With self-discipline born from years of practice, he forced himself to wander the frightening areas of his own subconscious first. The hurricane sweeping inland, unchecked by the failed rite. Sorren’s private jet going down in flames as they tried to flee the storm too late. A horrible sense of aloneness. The biting absence of Matt’s love. Dismissing these dreamscapes as fears and worries, he wandered on to a more disturbing set. A graffiti-lined hallway, strewn with garbage, the walls splattered with Matt’s blood, one of his mother’s dates looming over him, shouting obscenities. A small girl with hair as pale as moonlight clutching a pillow over her head, drenched with sweat at the horrors of shared dreams. A locked door, with angry shouts and Giorgio’s screams on the other side. Drifting in a sea of soft yellow light, Kenji regained his sense of balance. But as he prepared to wander the gentler dreamscapes -- his niece’s smile, the walls of books in his shop, his parents dancing under the full moon -- something tugged at him. Cloaked in clouds and mist, a form hovered at the edges of his dreams, then solidified. Jaimis. The reality of the scene puzzled him, for he had no gift with prescience. No, not a foreboding -- a present reality. Jaimis was here, in Florida, seeking them. Slamming down a psychic wall against the invasion, he sought the familiarity of his Ann Arbor apartment. Once he’d calmed enough to achieve full control, he sought Giorgio’s dreams. Wincing at the rain of blows, the choking nausea from drugs, and the hopeless impotence of not being able to summon magic, he twined himself through Giorgio’s consciousness and pulled the gentle witch into his own dreamscape.

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Giorgio sat, still and serene now, in the center of the many-colored quilt Kenji’s mother had sewn for him. He was naked except for a pair of white boxers, and purple green bruises stood out in angry blotches of color along his arms, legs, and back. Long scabs bordered his spine where Sky had raked her nails deep into tender skin. Unconcerned, Giorgio sat typing on a laptop, and Kenji didn’t have to ask to know he was working on his thesis. Eighteenth-century European herbalists. In short, witches. Why the goddess had seen fit to bring another witch historian his way, he couldn’t say. But finding Giorgio softened the blow of losing Matt. In the next heartbeat, as surely as if he’d walked their dreams, Lena and Matt appeared beside him on the bed. Startled, Kenji reached out and rested his hand on Giorgio’s thigh. When Matt leaned forward to brush a kiss against Kenji’s shoulder, warm and solid as life, he knew what must have happened. Dream walking. That was the talent he’d shared with Matt when their magics collided. He’d sensed the skill, latent but strong, in Lena. But Matt was a surprise. When the black silk pajama bottoms he’d been wearing dissolved into mist, leaving him naked and vulnerable, Kenji chafed at the loss of control. Lena sure as hell hadn’t done that, so it must have been Matt. Matt, naked and golden as honey, his erection straining up toward his belly button, his hair a wild, wavy brown mass around his face and shoulders. When Lena pressed her face against Giorgio’s side, the laptop vanished, and the gentle witch blinked in surprise. His lashes were long and dark enough to give his face a fragile delicacy. Kenji reached up to stroke the smooth area at the nape of Giorgio’s neck. His skin was as tempting as caramel ice cream, and Kenji leaned down to taste his shoulder. Lena guided Kenji’s hand to the battered expanse of Giorgio’s back. Confused, he hesitated, but he couldn’t seize control of the dream. Lena and Matt had claimed their share of ownership, steering and influencing the sequence. Magic warmed Lena’s fingertips, and staring at Kenji with pale green eyes, she traced one of the crusted scratches on Giorgio’s shoulder. She didn’t want the shy witch to hurt, that much he understood. But Kenji couldn’t for the life of him fathom how Lena expected him to help. She was an earth healer, but she could no more lift the marks from Giorgio’s back than he could. Why…? As Matt snaked his arm around Kenji’s waist, the answer hit with the weight of an avalanche. That’s what he’d gotten from Lena when they shared power. Healing. She was an earth healer, but his gifts ran to fire and dreams, not earth magic. Dream healer, then. Without a second thought, he disentangled himself from Matt’s arms and pressed his hands against Giorgio’s bruised skin. With the same energy he used to guide a dream sequence, he willed the swelling and pain out of the bruises. Delving deeper than appearance or illusion, he touched something lost and howling inside Giorgio. He spread the healing outward, easing the fear first, then lifting the color from the bruises. With a heady rush of power, he traced his fingers over Giorgio’s warm flesh,

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smoothing away the many hurts. By the time he finished, he felt shaky and weak, but Giorgio sat whole and sound before him. Lena placed the flat of her palm between Giorgio’s shoulder blades and smiled. Kenji knew beyond a doubt that beneath her show of detachment, she couldn’t stand to witness suffering. She had as much invested in tonight’s rite as he or Matt did. But when Kenji turned to meet Matt’s eyes, tears streaked his friend’s cheeks. Giorgio pressed snug and warm against Kenji’s side. But Kenji had no energy left to steer the dream -no power to draw Matt close beside him. Holding out his hand, he willed Matt to move closer. His brown eyes haunted with grief, Matt remained near the edge of the bed. When Lena went to him, wiping his tears and joining her body with his, the only thing strong enough to draw Kenji’s eyes away from their lovemaking was the kiss Giorgio pressed against his mouth.

***** Pacing the perimeter of the loft apartment, Lena tried to ignore the energy playing across her skin. Gathering thirteen powerful witches and one wary dog in an enclosed space raised the hair at the back of her neck and sent her into a constant state of alert. Matt managed to settle Sparrow on a cushion in a remote corner of the loft, but Lena couldn’t subdue the magic raging across her senses. Wind moaned around the remodeled factory like an angry spirit. Snakes’ tongues of lightning darted across the blackness of midnight, illuminating windows high enough above the surrounding buildings to protect their privacy. Naked and beautiful, Matt knelt at the center of the large living area to sketch out a giant pentacle -- a rough chalk outline on the wood floor. Witches scurried to clear the area of household objects, rolling aside oriental rugs and moving tables and chairs. Weather reports indicated the hurricane would hit tomorrow evening. In the meantime, the coast suffered the blows of the rising tide, and thunderstorms and tornados swept the region. While driving from the hotel to the loft, Lena had watched the frantic preparations. People carried jugs of water, portable generators, and overflowing grocery bags. Families loaded up minivans, getting ready to evacuate. All unaware their fate rested in the hands of thirteen witches. “Lena?” Giorgio approached from behind, touching her elbow to get her attention. When she turned to face him, she took in his smooth caramel skin, unmarred by bruises. When the four of them woke earlier this evening, tangled together on the bed, Giorgio’s healed body had made it impossible to pass off the dream as a flight of fancy. With a shake of her head, she forced herself to focus on his eyes and gave silent thanks that he

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kept his own gaze directed above her shoulders. Undressing in a forest clearing didn’t hold half the impact of preparing for a sexual rite in the comfort of someone’s well-lit loft. “Kenji wants to talk to you.” Inclining his head toward the kitchenette at the far end of the loft, he smiled in Kenji’s direction. She shivered at what was expected of her tonight. Earth healer. By the goddess, didn’t that just put a heap of pressure on her? But if Kenji was right, using her skill to calm the storm might help tame the episodes of fury that sent objects flying around her. He insisted the two talents were linked -- the power to heal, or to incite destruction. Use one, and she’d bring the other into balance. She hoped. Taking Giorgio’s hand, she stalked toward the kitchenette. Kenji didn’t make her most-favored-person list at the moment -- best bring Giorgio to buffer the confrontation. As she approached, she glared at Kenji and threw herself into the fray. “Matt’s game to try things my way. This can work. I know it can.” Kenji’s eyebrows straightened, and a forbidding scowl settled across his face, but his voice was even and steady. “I know you mean well, but the power needs to peak before the anchors can direct it. Starting too soon will disperse the energy before it’s potent enough to accomplish anything.” “What you did to us during the Wisconsin rite could only be described as mind rape. You pulled power from us with the force of an ax cleaving our brains. I won’t do that to these people.” When she leaned forward to brush her fingers along Giorgio’s forearm, Kenji’s face twisted into a grimace, a crack in his veneer of studied calm. Reminding him he’d hurt Giorgio, along with her and Matt, was a low blow. But she knew she could make the experience less brutal for the Florida witches. She had Matt’s vote. Now she needed Kenji’s. “We felt it too, Lena. Each of the anchors bore the pain of tearing the energy away and redirecting it. By the Horned God, the experience drove us to our knees. But we need to succeed here, and what worked last time --” “Worked despite a dozen mistakes!” Reaching up to place her palms against Kenji’s shoulders, she threw the force of her will behind her words. “We can do this. And more effectively than last time. We’re already changing things -- different witches, and Matt and I are new as anchors. We’re indoors this time. And four of us are familiar with a successful rite. Let me take things a few steps further!” Kenji grasped her hands and lifted them off his shoulders, but she surprised him by throwing her arms around him and pressing her body into his, skin to skin, warm and solid and bristling with magic. “We. Can. Do. This.” Tiptoeing, she pressed her mouth close to his ear, adding the seductive force of her whisper to her attempt to convince him. “We need to take a few

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moments to touch them, feel their magic so we’re attuned to their power. And when we form the pentagram, the three of us will start folding their power into ourselves before it rises to unmanageable levels. Two simple changes. I guarantee you, we can soothe the storm.” To her surprise, she believed that. They were powerful enough to turn a hurricane. All doubt fell away, and she stared into Kenji’s deep brown eyes with a wealth of confidence. When he bent to kiss her forehead, she knew she’d won. “All right, we’ll play it your way. I hope you’re right about this.” With that, Kenji strode out of the kitchen and didn’t halt his momentum as he entered the clustered group of witches. People scurried out of his way, and when he reached Matt, he leaned close, no doubt to go over the last-minute change of plans. As Giorgio headed after Kenji, Lena closed her eyes and breathed deeply. When she’d achieved some degree of calm, she squared her shoulders and strode toward the restless gathering of stark-naked witches. “Please.” Waiting until she had everyone’s attention, she raised her arms over her head and closed her eyes. Seeking outward, she grasped for the familiar beating of air, the fragile brush of feathers against her skin. When she felt the power of the goddess as sure and potent as the churning of a thousand hawks’ wings, she opened her eyes. “It’s time.” As the witches paired off inside the five points of the pentagram, Lena frowned. The circle didn’t balance. With a nod to Kenji and Matt to follow, she started making her rounds. Kenji touched the face of a brown-haired witch, a woman with milky skin and rounded curves who couldn’t be much over eighteen. When he grasped the arm of her partner, a slender man with gray hair and a well-groomed beard, he frowned. “Giorgio, can you come here?” Lena suspected Kenji had found a spot for Giorgio with the frightened-looking young woman. With Giorgio settled, Kenji led the older man across the circle and paired him with a muscular woman with spiky blonde hair. As Lena walked around the pentacle, unbidden passion danced across her senses. Most of the men had grown hard by now, and the women’s eyes were half-lidded and drowsy as Lena placed her palm against their cheeks. They leaned into her power like lovers hungry for a kiss. Touching the neck of a forty-something man with a grizzled buzz cut, she felt his pulse thrum through her, beating in tune to the invisible wing strokes of the goddess. Sometimes Lena pictured her as a great black swan. But tonight, the spirit of divinity had the feel of a raptor, fierce and determined.

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The energy channeling through her heightened the warmth in her belly, the ache between her legs. Nonetheless, threads of apprehension played across her consciousness as she walked toward the center of the pentacle. If they failed… Banishing the thought, she took Matt’s hand. Kenji joined them, and they were about to begin when a jarring dissonance rattled through the room. The lights went out, concurrent with a blinding flash of lightning, and she detected the whisper of air when a door opened. “Someone’s here!” Lena kindled a glow sphere and held it high. Kenji and Matt followed suit, adding hues of yellow and violet to the ethereal light. “It appears I’m overdressed.” Stepping out from behind a pillar near the elevator, Jaimis shrugged out of his suit jacket. When Matt and Kenji drew cloaks of power around themselves, gathering energy that tasted like death, several witches around the circle joined them in preparing to attack.

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Chapter Fifteen “Stand down!” Lena added the force of comfort and calm to her words. “Don’t let him disturb the connections we’ve formed. Our success depends on being able to work together.” “I’m not here to disrupt your endeavors.” Pausing a few yards from the pentacle, Jaimis unbuttoned his shirt and took off his crisply pressed pants. As if untroubled by the show of power from within the circle, he folded each item of clothing as he undressed. When he stood naked before them, he set his clothes on a chair and approached the circle. Kenji and Matt refused to release the current of energy they’d called, and Lena braced for whatever might happen next. “When I volunteered to add my power to this circle, Sorren declined my offer. Hung up on me, in fact. But since your lives, your homes -- your children -- are in the path of this storm, I decided to make my offer in person.” Glancing from face to face, Jaimis smiled benignly at the Florida group. If it weren’t for the faint, coppery scent of blood, Lena might almost be swayed to trust him. But the man’s aura clung to him with a sickly glow, as dark and dank as a cesspool. She shuddered as she wondered if Jaimis had made a similar appearance before the Colorado rite -- and left with a witch who took her last breath that night. Shaking her head to check her runaway imagination, Lena glanced to Kenji for reassurance, but when he touched her thoughts, his suspicions echoed her own. “Leave, Jaimis. Let us get on with what we need to do.” Kenji took a step forward, and yellow mist gathered around his ankles, potent with the threat of force. Kenji had warned Matt and Lena -- told them Jaimis had walked his dreams and was nearby. But none of them expected him to show up at the rite. “With Sorren in California, you’re missing your most powerful witch.” Jaimis took another step, bringing him close enough to reach out and touch the two witches at the north

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point of the pentagram. “You’re strong, young Kenji, but unseasoned. If you believe you can accomplish this as easily without as with me, I’ll leave. But it will be on your conscience if you fail.” Jaimis reeked so strongly of ulterior motives, Lena could almost taste his ill intent. But he also smelled of power. His arrogance was tempered by a darkly seductive beauty as he stood just outside the circle like some avenging angel. Though streaks of gray peppered his raven black hair, his body could have been sculpted from marble, and his steely blue eyes glinted in the light of the hand glows. If they tried to throw him out, there’d be a fight. And they couldn’t count on the Florida witches to support them -- not given Jaimis’s seductive offer of aid and his obvious power. Lena glanced at Matt, then Kenji, and they nodded. Consequences be damned, they had no choice but to invite Jaimis into the circle. “Who among you is most reluctant to participate tonight?” A restless shifting followed Kenji’s words. Then the middle-aged witch with a buzz cut stepped out of the circle, gathered up his clothes, and hurried toward the elevator. “Well, that’s settled.” Jaimis glided over to take the place of the witch who’d opted to flee. “Carry on. You have my word I’ll do everything in my power to tame the storm.” And perhaps disclose the identity of every witch in the circle afterward, so they’d come scurrying to him for protection. But they couldn’t address that threat until after the rite. For now, Lena adjusted to the new balance in the circle and, gritting her teeth, forced herself to step forward and touch Jaimis’s shoulder. Energy scuttled around him like leaves tossed by the wind, and heat brushed her fingertips where they came into contact with his aura. When he leaned down to brush a kiss across the top of her head, it took all her resolve not to slap him. Goddess help them, he was powerful. Small miracle he hadn’t insisted on anchoring the rite -- but then, maybe Sky’s stories about the sex proved too tempting. Familiar now with the signature of Jaimis’s power, Lena stepped back to the center of the circle and joined hands with Matt and Kenji. Like it or not, the energy balanced itself around Jaimis, welcoming him like a child to a mother’s arms. “No more delays.” Kenji’s words carried the weight of authority, but Lena sensed an underlying counterpoint of apprehension. “Please, join your partners, heads toward the center, feet toward the points of the star.” As five pairs of witches lay down around them, Lena drew in the storm surge of energy that preceded their joining and tossed her will outward, hurling it over the ocean. Matt and Kenji’s winged along beside her, their auras steady and rich with the taste of borrowed power. Once she spread the net and showed the magic where it needed to go, Lena opened her eyes and braced herself against the erotic jolt of five coupling pairs. Energy continued to stream across the bond she’d formed with each of the witches, and she flung it outward,

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feeding it to the storm. As the winds grew heavy with magic, the waves would calm, the ocean cool. But on another level, she’d never been so aware of her sexual nature, of the fleshy, earthy act of bodies sharing space, tongues seeking tongues, legs wrapped around hips. Raw, unfocused magic crawled across her skin like a caress. The spark of arousal radiating off Kenji and Matt left her mouth dry and her body aching for more contact than their palms pressed against hers. By closing the psychic circle when she, Matt, and Kenji touched each of the witches at the start of the rite, they negated the need for a physical closing. Rather than gripping their neighbors’ forearms, the witches remained free to snake their arms around each other, to caress and touch and pleasure their partners. And she’d been right about the benefits of that freedom. Power spindled so fast within the pentacle, she struggled to throw it outward fast enough. Rather than pulling energy from them, raping their minds, the anchors guided what welled up around them, a natural byproduct of magic mingled with desire. When the first climax hit her, Lena moaned in dismay. Her body clenched around nothingness -- hungry for the counterpressure of penetration as she came -- and she fought to stay on her feet. Matt cried out a moment later, cupping his hand over his cock to shield her and Kenji from the warm fluid. Though Kenji’s short fingernails dug into her palm, he refused to give in to his body’s needs. Buffeted by the searing impact of the rite -- the combined lust of five pairs of witches and three shaken anchors -- Lena met each climax with a resigned whimper. Slick juices coated her thighs, and the smell of pine forests coming off Matt held so much seductive power, it was all she could do not to wrap her legs around his hips and sink her teeth into his shoulder. Through it all, she fed energy outward, channeling it deeper into the night. Calm, salty waves, buoying her body and caressing her fevered skin. Wind like a lover’s kiss, gentle and warm. Rain hitting the water in even rhythms, a drumbeat of soft splashes. By the end, she knelt at the center of the circle with her forehead pressed against Kenji’s shoulder. Matt lay on his side, his breathing harsh and ragged, and Kenji’s hand rested on his shoulder. The witches around them arched, moaned, and writhed in a giddy dance of sound and motion, riding the currents of passion engendered by the ritual, but for sheer pleasure now. They’d either succeeded or failed. Time would tell. When the lights clicked back on, electricity restored in the wake of whatever lightning strike or windblown wires had interrupted it, Lena struggled to her feet. Watching the others couple in the dim light of glow spheres was one thing, but the glare of table lamps and track lighting made things a bit too real. As she hurried to scoop up her clothes and rushed toward the bathroom -inconveniently located across the loft near the elevators -- images of tangled hair, sweaty

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bodies, clenched fists, straining, arching knots of muscle and bone and will seared into her memory. As soon as they spoke with Jaimis and determined his motives for joining the rite, they’d be out of here. And if the winds had calmed enough for Sorren’s jet to take off tonight, she had no doubt she, Matt, Kenji, and Giorgio were about to join the mile-high club. Coming like that, over and over, without being able to take Matt inside her, to engulf him and drown him in kisses, had shaken her to her core. And the only way she knew to chase away that halfstarved, empty feeling was to tangle herself around him so close no one could tell where one of them ended and the other began. Before she reached the bathroom door, Jaimis strode past her, already dressed and looking more like he’d come from a board meeting than an arcane sexual rite. Goddess, the man wasn’t even sweating. They’d need to track him down before long to determine his motive for being here tonight, but she felt a wave of relief that the confrontation would happen at a later date. Retreating into the bathroom, she washed up and tugged on her panties, T-shirt, and shorts. They needed to warn the Florida group that Jaimis might out them. His connection to Sky fed the suspicion he might have been behind her disastrous talk with the press. And since Sorren’s people hadn’t been able to get to the bottom of who’d killed the witch from the Colorado circle, she feared for this group’s safety. As she stepped out of the bathroom, Sparrow raced past her legs, hackles raised and growling. The elevator doors whooshed open. Afraid Sparrow would be lost on the stormdrenched streets if he got out of the building, she whistled and ran after the dog. The shepherd ran past the elevator, growling at a dark shadow in the far corner of the loft. Halting her forward momentum, someone reached out of the elevator and grabbed her arm, the force nearly wrenching her shoulder from its socket. Before she could yell for help, a needle plunged into her shoulder, and whoever had a death grip on her arm tugged her into the confined space. A whoosh of air hit her face as the doors glided shut, and the world swam in a dizzying collage of gray and black shapes.

***** “No, you gave her enough that she’s been out most of the night. Another shot might kill her.” The voice sounded familiar. Lena tried to shift to her side, but rope bit into her wrists and ankles. When nausea welled up in a sour, sickening flow, she tilted her head to avoid choking on her own vomit. Someone freed her wrists and sat her up, wiping her face with a damp towel.

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Although she could feel and hear, her sight remained masked by a black shroud. Her mind worked that puzzle over for a few minutes before she realized a blindfold covered her eyes. A world of blackness lay between that and her next thought, and when she came around again, the smell of vomit had dissipated. Someone had changed the sheets -- and taken her clothes. Naked and tied spread-eagle to the bed, she struggled to rein in her fear. If she only had a few moments of consciousness before she blacked out again, she needed to use each second to her advantage. The ropes held fast -- no way to struggle free. As far as she could tell, she was alone in the room. When she worked to summon enough power to shred her restraints, pain blossomed in a dark path across her forehead and darted down her spine. Nausea followed then receded as she abandoned her attempts. A swath of silk still covered her eyes, and the last thing she remembered was chasing after Sparrow in the loft. That she’d been drugged was a foregone conclusion. Dizzy and sedated by the chemicals coursing through her blood, her power was crippled so effectively she couldn’t raise the spark of energy required to shred her bonds. Who’d captured her, and why, remained to be seen. A door clicked open, and heavy footsteps approached the bed. She cringed when someone touched her breast. Work-rough fingers grazed her skin, and when she struggled against the ropes, the man laughed. Thankfully, his footsteps retreated in the direction from which he’d come. “Someone tell the boss she’s awake.” Following the order from the man she presumed to be her guard, arguing voices approached as if down a long hallway. When she figured out why one of them sounded familiar, a wave of despair plowed across her and left her breathless. Skyler. Sky had betrayed her once by revealing her role in the Wisconsin rite, but that paled in comparison to this. And if she wasn’t mistaken, the voice arguing with Sky belonged to Jaimis. “Ah, my pet.” Jaimis slid the blindfold away from her face so the silken loop, still tied, pooled around her neck. Light sent darts of pain splintering through her head, and she feared she’d be sick again. Squinting against the barrage of color and light, she directed a question at Skyler. “Why?” Sky leaned against a mahogany dresser. Three candles burned in front of the mirror, red, black, and gray. A collection of stones surrounded the candles, out of place among the fine furniture and sculptures adorning the room. Reaching for one of the stones, Sky waved her hand over the candles, and flames licked at the wicks.

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“This one, I think.” Studying the stone in her palm, Sky nodded and approached the bed. Lena winced when she felt the tug of magic. If Sky planned to harm her, she couldn’t do much about it with her arms and legs tied. But damned if she’d stay quiet. “You’re better than this, Sky. Together, we can walk out of here. If we combine our powers, we’re stronger than Jaimis.” “Your quaint appeal to friendship warms my heart.” Jaimis pulled over a velvet-covered chair and sat beside the head of the bed. He nodded to Sky, who knelt to place the stone under the bed. “Your friend has your interests at heart. If this works, I won’t have to drug you again.” “Like you drugged the Colorado witch before you killed her?” Maybe not the wisest thing to provoke him, but if she managed to get out of this, it wouldn’t hurt to take some information with her. Jaimis made a soft clucking sound with his tongue. “As I’ve explained to Sorren, I didn’t kill the witch from the Colorado circle. Fear not, little one. Your death isn’t among my intentions.” The glint in his eyes as he studied her naked form made her shudder, and fear flooded her senses when he met her gaze. No, he hadn’t killed the Colorado witch. But he’d phrased the denial carefully. Given the note of falseness in his assertion, she bet he had a hand in ordering the woman’s death. The rush of power around Jaimis carried the metallic scent of blood. With a shiver, Lena glanced back at the dresser. When the candles flickered out, she knew the spell was set, but couldn’t discern its purpose. Sky paced beside the bed, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her black hair hung loose down her back, and her bloodred lipstick made her look both seductive and dangerous. She wore painted-on black jeans, and a red spandex shirt left her midriff bare. Nothing about her hinted at the cheerful bartender or irreverent roommate Lena used to know. When Lena noticed the necklace, she wanted to rage, cry, and curse at Skyler’s betrayal. A pentagram with a garnet at the center -- her solstice gift to Sky last winter. “The spell’s had time to take hold. Let’s provoke her and see if it worked.” Jaimis leaned back in his chair, and a lazy smile spread across his face. “Choose, little Lena. Who would you rather fight, me or Skyler?” Smiling, Sky traced a finger down Lena’s shoulder, brushing the curve of her breast. Lena struggled, her movements checked by the ropes. When Sky pinched her nipple, Lena summoned the full force of her power, creating a buffer between them and pressing back.

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Sky should have been thrown back several steps. She’d put the full force of her anger into the barrier. However, Sky slid her hand down Lena’s stomach and teased the triangle of curls between her thighs. “You see, little Lena, we need to test the spell. If it’s drained your power, you’re safe from the needle. If not…” Jaimis shrugged. “In any case, choose one of us, or fight us both.” When he moved across the room to pick up a leather riding crop from a table near the door and advanced toward the bed, goose bumps sprang up across Lena’s naked flesh. “Skyler. I choose Sky.” If they planned to provoke her to use magic, she suspected they’d resort to sex, as well as violence. She’d been with Sky before, and better the evil you knew… “Well, then” -- Jaimis handed Sky the whip and sat at the edge of the bed by her side -“all you need to do is what comes naturally.” Lena shook her head. “The spell worked. I tried to use my power to shove Sky away when she touched my breast, but I couldn’t access the faintest hint of energy. I feel like something siphoned off my aura, stripping away my magic.” “Maybe so,” Jaimis touched her cheek, and she tilted her head away from his hand, “but do you know what my strongest gift is?” Shivering, Lena put all her will into wishing this was over. Whatever was about to happen would be ugly, and she was helpless to prevent it. “I can erase selected memories. I’ve used the talent on senators, business competitors -and witches far more powerful than you.” “Sky.” A bolt of red-hot fear raced through her. “Have you done things to Sky and made her forget?” “Touching, your loyalty, but no. Skyler is with me of her own accord, and I’ve given her my word I won’t interfere with her memory.” Relaxing against the ropes, Lena absorbed the truth of his words. If she could sense the difference between truth and lies, maybe other talents had escaped the dampening spell. With that sliver of hope, she glared at Jaimis. “Why am I here?” “You’re here to ensure Kenji’s cooperation. He’s agreed to meet me at my Boston address tomorrow, and I’ll present an offer he can’t refuse. He’ll sign a contract to work for me for one month -- a length of time adequate for Kenji to alienate Sorren. In return, I’ll guarantee your safety.” Sky tangled her fingers in Lena’s hair and tugged hard enough to sting. “You’ll be our guest, and at the end of the month, we’ll send you on your way. By then, Kenji will have no choice but to work for me. He’ll need someone to protect him from Sorren’s wrath.”

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Lena shivered. She knew all about Sorren’s wrath -- knew the master witch wasn’t above killing in the name of justice. “Of course, I hope young Kenji will come to see the merit of my cause. I’m not an ogre, little one. I reward loyalty handsomely.” Jaimis pursed his lips, as if he couldn’t understand why anyone would resist him. “In the bargain, I’ll gain you, not to mention Kenji’s pet, Matthew -- for Sorren knows you’re loyal to Kenji.” Standing, Jaimis placed a fingertip on his chin and shook his head. “In exchange for loyalty, I’ll protect the three of you from Sorren’s people.” “You’re trying to start an empire to rival Sorren’s.” The thought of Jaimis bullying witches into joining their power with his left her cold and shaken. “Ah, you think too small. Sorren hides with his witches like frightened rats, scuttling around the edges of human society. We have rights, little one, and I’m determined to see them protected.” Being bound limited her inclination to argue. Jaimis wasn’t the first witch to envision a society where witches could proclaim their skills and enjoy protection under the nation’s laws. Now she understood Sky’s motivation for joining up with him. But whoever had burned her house the other night didn’t see things the same way. “Back to more pressing matters. Be assured that at the end of the month, I’ll remove any -- uncomfortable -- memories. Now, let’s test our spell.” With a nod toward Skyler, Jaimis stepped back and leaned against the wall. When the whip cracked across her thigh, Lena let loose a shrill wail. Sky’s mouth formed a grim line as she raised the evil-looking strip of leather again. This time the lash bit into her breast, and Lena arched against her restraints.

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Chapter Sixteen “Stop, please! Sky, don’t do this!” How many of Sky’s bed partners had begged like that? Sky liked pain. That’s why Lena had broken off their relationship in college. Biting her lip, she tried to keep silent, refusing Sky the pleasure of hearing her yell. But when a volley of lashes rained down on her bare stomach, she screamed until her throat grew raw. “Ah. I think we can safely say our spell’s been successful. Our brave little witch wouldn’t be able to endure that without trying to use magic.” Jaimis walked to the bed and traced his fingers along the red lashes crisscrossing her body. Sky’s face shone red with exertion, and her eyes glistened. When she blinked, a single tear fell onto her cheek. Leaning close to Lena’s face, she mouthed two silent words. I’m sorry. “Don’t worry, the pain will fade, as will the welts. When you leave here in a month, I’ll relieve you of this, and any other, unpleasant memories.” Walking toward the door, Jaimis held out his hand to Sky. “Come, sweet. I’ve no doubt you’ll have more opportunities to play with your ex-lover in the weeks to come.” When they left the room, Lena fought the urge to struggle against the ropes. She felt weak from the drug they’d given her earlier, not to mention the aftermath of being whipped. And she could hear guards talking outside the door. No, for now, she needed sleep. With sleep, she could dream. With any luck, the dampening spell wouldn’t affect the dream-walking skills she’d gained when her power mingled with Kenji’s. Even if she failed to reach him, as long as they were sleeping at the same time, she had no doubt he could reach her.

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The fiery sting of the welts on her thighs, stomach, and breasts made it almost impossible to sleep. But she forced herself to breathe evenly, sinking into a state of deep meditation and, finally, slumber. Tossed in a seascape of waves and wind, she tried and failed to reach Kenji. Instead, she drifted, waiting for him to find her. She rode the back of a gray dolphin, face pressed against the creature’s cool skin, until Kenji tugged her into his Ann Arbor bedroom. She recognized the colorful quilt from the last time she’d shared his dreams. His eyes soft with concern, he wrapped his arms around her. In the next instant, Matt appeared beside them on the bed. When he saw the red welts riddling her skin, he glanced entreatingly at Kenji. But when Kenji placed his palm over the worst of the lashes on her belly, she shook her head. If Kenji healed the damage inflicted by Sky’s whip, Jaimis would be suspicious, to say the least. And she didn’t doubt he’d enjoy marking her again. The light of understanding flickered across Kenji’s face, followed by anger. Lena shook her head. No time for emotion, she had to find a way to make them understand. If Kenji walked into Jaimis’s trap, they’d be at ground zero in a power struggle between Sorren and Jaimis, with no safe place to hide. The first time she, Kenji, and Matt had walked each other’s dreams, she’d been struck by the fact that though tactile and emotional connections were strong, speech wasn’t an option. Again, when she tried to speak to them, confusion clouded the attempt. As if he sensed her efforts, Kenji shook his head and bent to kiss a raised welt on her thigh. Matt followed suit, and the two of them kissed their way along each mark Skyler had left on her skin. When Matt took her into his arms, she realized they intended more than comfort. If they formed a strong enough bond, maybe they’d be able to mingle their thoughts. The Florida ritual had drawn them closer, enhancing the connection they shared. Maybe this could work. Tangling her fingers with Kenji’s, she pressed herself against Matt. Soon, she lay cradled between the solid press of their bodies, caught up in sensations as deep as ocean water and as gentle as rain. When Matt slid inside her, their thoughts tangled together and the image of a calm ocean intensified. The Florida storm -- they’d succeeded in gentling the hurricane! Swept up by relief and excitement, she didn’t protest when Kenji eased his swollen cock into her ass. If she were awake, she suspected that taking them both would hurt, but the dream sizzled with pure desire. Replacing Matt’s thoughts of becalmed waters, Kenji added the silhouette of a tall glass building against the Boston skyline. They wondered if she was in Boston -- she recognized the city from family trips as a child. Wherever she was, she knew it wasn’t Jaimis’s Boston address. There weren’t any street noises, just the voices of the guards, and the wind outside the window before she fell asleep, along with a chorus of crickets and tree toads.

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Cradled between Kenji and Matt, she arched into the stretching sensation of their thrusts. When Matt leaned down to kiss her, she swept her tongue across his lips. A shimmer of pure pleasure flitted across her senses as Kenji licked the velvet-smooth spot just under her ear. Scrambling for an image that would make sense, she pictured Sorren standing, arms raised and lightning bolts flashing from his fingers, and Jaimis holding a staff above his head, directing silver streams of energy. In the center, closer to Jaimis than to Sorren, she, Matt, Kenji, and Giorgio crouched with their arms over their heads. Matt touched her face and nodded. He understood. Content that Kenji wouldn’t walk into Jaimis’s trap, she set her thoughts free and buried her face in Matt’s hair, losing herself in the scent of pine and orchards. As they made love to her, Kenji moving forward as Matt moved back, setting a rhythm of penetration and release that drove her wild, Lena’s fear slipped away. Here, in this dream, she felt safe. As Kenji cupped her breast in his palm, the scent of citrus rose from his damp skin. Matt shuddered, struggling for control, and she traced the path of his spine with her fingertips. Pressed between their echoing heartbeats, kissed to the point where her lips felt swollen and hot, and rocked in their arms, she squirmed between them. When Matt interlaced his fingers with Kenji’s so both sets of hands covered her breasts, she threw her head back and surrendered to a climax that rocked through her senses like a tidal wave. Kenji joined her in an explosion of trembling, wet release, and a second later, Matt shuddered inside her. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was back in the ocean, her sweatdrenched body pressed against the sleek form of the dolphin’s back.

***** Groggy and sore, Lena stretched to the extent the ropes allowed. In hopes of having Kenji and Matt walk her dreams again, she’d managed to sleep most of the afternoon. Not likely Kenji would be sleeping during the day, but at least sleep eased the burning welts layered across her body. She’d hoped bathroom breaks would present an opportunity for escape, but to top off all prior humiliations, the armed men accompanied her into the bathroom -- carrying the stone which keyed the dampening spell. Flexing her muscles, she couldn’t suppress a groan. If she managed to get loose, walking would be a challenge after being tied spread-eagle to the bed for a day. When the doorknob clicked, she tensed, hoping for a guard rather than Jaimis or Skyler. No such luck.

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“My apologies, I’ve been rude in not visiting sooner. But, alas, I’ve been meeting with my lawyers, hammering out a satisfactory contract for Kenji’s employment.” Bending in a mock bow, Jaimis smiled wolfishly before straightening and approaching the bed. Stark naked and vulnerable, she shuddered when he touched her cheek. “Get your hands off me.” “Won’t pay to antagonize him.” Sky appeared in the doorway, an intimidating vision in tight leather pants, stiletto heels, and a black leather halter top. “Skyler, my dear, come sit beside our little pet.” Jaimis gestured for Sky to join him as he perched at the edge of the bed, close enough that his thigh brushed Lena’s knee. When Sky sat near the head of the bed, her hands straying through the matted strands of Lena’s hair, Lena braced for the worst. She knew Sky loved to play cat and mouse. And this time, the mouse lay stretched between the bedposts, bound by thick ropes and unable to dart away. Her heart pounded, and she hated the fact that her fear must be as obvious as her wide eyes and paler-than-normal complexion. “No need to worry. We’re not here to play. In fact, we’re on our way to Boston to meet with Kenji and negotiate the terms of our alliance.” Jaimis’s eyes drifted toward the door, as if he had more important things on his mind than a captive witch. “So you’re not here to torture me -- just to let me know my friend’s about to sign on with the dark side.” “Ah, such a grim world view. And from the child of close personal friends.” Jaimis let his hand stray to her knee, caressing lower down her thigh when she flinched and tried to pull away. “My parents weren’t your friends.” “My, my. Such strong emotion over a small matter. Skyler, could you please remind Lena why it would serve her well to control future outbursts?” With a curt nod, Sky reached out and drew one red-lacquered nail along the broadest welt on her stomach. Despite herself, Lena cried out at the pain. Sky repeated the process, tracing an angry pink line where the crop had landed across Lena’s right breast. “Stop, please. Don’t do this!” How could something so small hurt so much? Hating herself for begging, she squirmed wildly under Skyler’s touch. “No!” “Enough.” At Jaimis’s command, Sky withdrew her hand and leaned toward him to offer a kiss. Lena felt ill when she noticed the telltale tent in Jaimis’s pants. “Not to worry,” he pulled away from Skyler and stood up, straightening his silk shirt, “such entertainment will have to wait for a later time.” Skyler smiled. Goddess, how could she smile at that?

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“For now, I wanted to reassure you Kenji will be better off in my employment than working for Sorren. With your family background, I don’t doubt you have your own suspicions about Sorren’s corrupt sense of ethics.” As he spoke, he ran his eyes over her body as if he were touching her, and an angry flush spread from her chest to her face. “As you no doubt remember, Sorren helped your father kill your uncle William. You see, my dear, some witches believe our kind should be exempt from human laws. Whereas I’m working to bring us further into mainstream society. Under the protection of the law, as it were.” Feeling sick, Lena tried to sort through all that. She didn’t for a moment believe her dad had killed her mother’s attacker. But Jaimis clearly believed Sorren wasn’t responsible for the death, or he wouldn’t hesitate to accuse the master witch of murder. “I have powerful connections, people who are willing to pass laws for our protection -if we grant certain favors. There’s no pride in hiding who and what we are, and no glory, either.” So Sky’s interview with the press, though premature, hadn’t been a random attempt at fame. Jaimis meant to out witches -- not just a few, but all of them. “What favors are you after from Kenji?” “I saw what the three of you are capable of doing when you anchored the Florida circle. Some of my friends in Congress would provide handsome rewards for efforts to address environmental problems in their districts.” Closing her eyes to block out Jaimis’s cool, steely blue stare and taunting smile, Lena tried not to imagine a world where witches’ services were pimped out like favors from a whore. That is, if the vigilantes, religious zealots, and hate groups didn’t kill them first. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our chat, we must be on our way.” Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss across her forehead, chuckling when she flinched. “Am I not good enough for the bastard child of a rogue witch and his violated sister? Not good enough for the child of a murderer?” Tears prickled behind her closed eyelids, and she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. After a few moments, two pairs of footsteps retreated, Sky’s heels clicking a staccato beat down the hallway. When she managed to rein in her emotions and open her eyes, the tiniest spark of hope flared to life when she noticed Sky’s leather handbag sitting on the velvet chair. Sky never forgot anything. Keeping her eyes on the purse, Lena tried to slow her racing heartbeat. The lapse could only mean two things. Either Sky wanted an excuse to return and torment her alone, or she planned to help.

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She held her breath as Sky stepped into the room, shut the door behind her, and approached the bed. Fear welled up like viscous liquid, crowding air out of Lena’s lungs. But rather than reaching for her, Sky stooped to retrieve the stone. “Only works on you. I’ll be able to carry it in my purse without Jaimis noticing.” Retrieving the handbag, Sky slipped the small stone inside. “Three guards in the house, all human. Six policing the grounds of the estate, also human. Jaimis lowers the wards near the gate when the guards change shift. Your best chance is to wait until then and slip through using a concealment spell.” Pausing to catch her breath, Sky darted a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the door. “Next shift change is at nine p.m., so you’ll have to avoid detection till then. Jaimis is due back around eight. He’ll have searchers cover every inch of the estate as soon as he notices you’ve gone missing.” “Will you be all right? He’ll know you helped.” “And he’ll punish me.” A sad smile flitted across Sky’s face. “No one else has ever been able to top me. You could have, but you didn’t want to play.” Sweet goddess, did Sky still have feelings for her after all these years? “I’m sorry I hurt you. He would have known if I’d faked it. Don’t be here when we get back. What Jaimis has planned for you --” Skyler shook her head. “Please, be gone.” “I’ll be gone. My power’s returning already.” As Sky hurried to join Jaimis, Lena glanced around the ornately furnished room -velvet chairs, antique furniture, crystal vases, and marble sculptures -- and wondered if Sky would make it out alive.

***** Waiting until after dinner to make her escape meant more leering bathroom visits with the guards, and hours spent with her arms and legs cramping at the indignity of being stretched between the bedposts. But the guards wouldn’t be back to check on her for hours after the evening meal, and the food helped restore her energy. With just enough effort to focus her power, she frayed the ropes around her wrists and ankles and slid free. Pain rocketed through her when she moved, and she sat up to massage a fierce cramp in her calf. Her arms felt like electric currents zinged through them, and walking would be a bitch. Not wanting to slip through the window naked, she tugged a sheet from the bed, folded it in half, and secured it toga style around her chest. There wasn’t anything she could do about footwear. Not as if she could go ask the guards to hand over her shoes. Taking a moment to apply a blast of searing energy to the doorknob to jam the lock first -- bless Kenji and his shared gift to work fire magic -- she shuffled to the window. Either the ward at the

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outer gate was very strong, or Jaimis was arrogant to a fault, because he hadn’t bothered to ward the house. Her heart dropped when she looked down. Being on the first floor would have made this easier. If she threw her legs over, lowered herself hanging onto the sill with her hands, and dropped to the ground, this would work. Maybe a sprained ankle in the bargain, but she’d be free. What made her hesitate was the thought of how much the move would punish her aching muscles. With a brief plea to the goddess, she opened the window, climbed out, and let herself drop to the ground. The hedge below broke her fall, scratching and gouging the painful welts Sky left across the front of her body. Biting her lip so hard she tasted blood, Lena disentangled herself from the shrubs and crouched close to the house. Her heart hammered and sweat broke out across her back, but no one seemed to notice she’d escaped. Mosquitoes swarmed around her half-naked body, and she wondered if the greening of the land here was Jaimis’s doing. With a grimace, she forced herself to focus. Bushes and small trees dotted the landscape around the house, and her instincts said to get as far from the place as possible. But she’d be vulnerable moving across the open spaces. Best to wait here, out of sight. The first place Jaimis would look for her when he returned would be near the gates. Nearly succumbing to panic, she struggled -- and failed -- to find a position that didn’t put pressure on the lashes covering her torso. Everything hurt. Not a little hurt. A colossal, want-to-curl-up-and-die kind of hurt. The mosquitoes feasting on her exposed skin increased her despair. Free. But by no means safe. When she heard a sharp bark in the distance, her plans underwent a radical revision. Sky had forgotten to mention dogs. If Jaimis used dogs on the property, huddling in the bushes wouldn’t protect her from detection. May as well dart from hedge to hedge, seeking shelter where she could, and put some distance between her and the house. If the dogs got close, more likely than not she’d be able to charm them into not eating her. But she didn’t need the guards coming out to see why a pack of dogs milled around the side of the mansion. Fixing on a cluster of cedars and overgrown bushes as her next hiding place, she took a deep breath, gathered herself, and half ran, half hobbled across the lawn. She wrapped her aura tight around her, visualizing nothingness, an undisrupted expanse of green lawn. But she didn’t have the time or the strength for a proper concealment spell. Given that she needed to move away from the fortresslike stone walls of the house, she may as well explore Jaimis’s wards and see what she could do about breaking them. She expected the ward around the property would be a bitch to try to get through. But with Jaimis in Boston and no witches on the estate, no harm in trying. When a dog barked, more menacing and closer than before, she froze and held her breath. After a few moments, shaky and aching, she hobbled to the next cluster of shrubs and ornamental trees. She crouched in the center of the scratchy branches, trying to stay low and

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trembling at the pain darting across her welted skin. Her heart skipped a few beats when a German shepherd thrust its head through the bushes. Scrambling to summon enough power to charm the dog, she couldn’t take her eyes off the blood on its muzzle.

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Chapter Seventeen Whimpering, she pulled back as the dog advanced -- and blinked in amazement when it nudged a wet nose against her leg. “Sparrow?” With red brown blood coating his muzzle, the shepherd bore little resemblance to Matt’s dog. Nonetheless, the dog wagged his tail and whined softly. Extending her hand, she reached to scratch behind Sparrow’s ears. With a sick feeling, she realized Matt must be on the estate -- as much at risk of falling into Jaimis’s hands as she was. Sparrow took a few steps away from the bushes, returned to press his nose to her palm, then darted away again. When she hobbled after him, the dog returned to her side, and she rested a hand on his head to steady herself. After what seemed like an eternity of skulking around the shaded gardens, someone stepped out from behind a trellis and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Giorgio?” Not that she would have preferred to have been taken by surprise by one of the guards, but had something happened to Matt? “Shh. Keep your voice low -- there are guards not too far off. Matt’s waiting.” Giorgio whispered so quietly she could barely hear him. “This way.” When she stumbled, he wrapped his arm around her waist, but she winced and pulled back when his fingers pressed against one of the lashes on her side. Instead, she gripped his forearm, steadying herself as they made their way between the hedges. This place was a maze, winding and dark. At least Jaimis’s preference for dark gardens and tall hedges gave them a fair shot at escape. Just when she felt like her legs couldn’t carry her any further, Giorgio stopped beside a tall, wrought-iron fence. “I can open a path through the wards that’s big enough for us to slide through, but you’re going to have to climb the fence and drop to the other side.”

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Tears of frustration gathered behind her eyelids, but she blinked them back. She hadn’t come this far to be defeated by a fence. The wards presented a larger problem. The strength and sheer malevolence of them rolled over her senses like a brush of death. “How?” Her palms turned upward, she gestured toward the thick layer of wards around the fence. Given days, she’d never be able to break something this strong. “One of my talents is sliding through wards. Matt’s mad as hell because I wouldn’t bring him through with me. Just more risk, bringing another person along.” “But you can bring me through?” Goddess help her if this thing slammed down on her before she finished climbing over the fence. “Sure.” With a swirl of power, he lifted his arms and stood as still as a statue. “There.” “That’s it?” Not sure what she’d expected, she eyed the fence warily. Without answering, Giorgio approached the barrier, whistled softly for Sparrow, and lifted the dog over, letting him drop the last few feet to the other side. “Your turn. Sorry, I know you’re sore. I’ll try not to hurt you too much.” Holding his arms out to her, he waited. As far as she could tell, the ward felt whole and undisturbed. But seeing as Giorgio and the dog hadn’t disintegrated into a charred pile of dust, she’d have to trust him. Following the exact path he’d taken up to the fence, she placed her foot on the lower rung and reached up so he could grab her arms. Perched on the second rung, Giorgio helped her scramble up the iron bars. Lifting her clear, he held on to her hands until her feet dangled close to the ground, then let her drop and scrambled over after her. “Move quickly.” He grabbed her hand and ran, and she stumbled along beside him. Brush slapped at her legs, and a tree branch caught her across the chest, a fiery sting against her marked skin. Her breath came in ragged gasps by the time they reached the sidewalk, and her bare feet were raw from stepping on sticks and sharp stones. “There he is.” Pointing to a green SUV rounding the corner, Giorgio tugged her along the sidewalk at a dead run. When the SUV pulled over, Giorgio flung open the door to the backseat and threw Lena in ahead of him. Sparrow leaped in next, obeying Matt’s familiar whistle. Diving in after the dog, Giorgio yelled for Matt to get going. Lena and Giorgio watched out the back window, expecting pursuit. For once, luck seemed to be with them, and no one followed. Matt glanced back at her, his expression fierce with concern, then shifted his attention back to the road. “I’m so sorry. We tried to stop Jaimis when he grabbed you, but he got away. Sorren has a list of Jaimis’s estates, and we searched three others within an hour or two of Boston before we sensed you nearby.”

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“You found me, though. All said and done, that’s what counts.” Lena shuddered, wondering if she could have pulled off the escape without their help. Jaimis’s wards were unlike anything she’d encountered before. Giorgio tugged his shirt off, and she accepted it, eager for more covering than the dirtstained sheet. Sucking air through her teeth, she managed to get the T-shirt on with only a moderate degree of pain. Feeling more secure now that she wore a shirt long enough to pass as a short dress, she leaned forward to touch the back of Matt’s neck. He grunted softly but never took his eyes away from the road. The lines of tension in his shoulders indicated the time since she’d been captured hadn’t been easy for him. When she glanced over at Giorgio, she spotted the blood-spattered knife protruding from the leather sheath attached to his belt. Her shoulders tight with apprehension, she peeked over the front seat to check Matt’s belt. No knife. Just when she started to relax, she glanced sideways, taking in the bloody hunting knife on the passenger seat. He and Kenji had worn knives the night they’d rescued Sky and Giorgio -- well, Giorgio, anyway. Turned out, Sky hadn’t wanted to be rescued. But she’d assumed the knives they brought along in Northern Wisconsin had been for show, in case any of the locals got restless. The only knife drawn during the rescue had been her own pocketknife, to cut the ropes binding Sky. Giorgio took her hand and eased her back against her seat. “We had a bit of trouble getting onto the estate. Jaimis has guards patrolling outside the ward -- this side of the fence -- and we weren’t expecting that.” Oh, goddess. Closing her eyes and struggling to think of something other than the bloody knife, she tried not to remember the scene, but images of her uncle’s carved-up body flashed across her mind. Sparrow nudged her leg, pressing warm fur against her chilled skin, but nothing could pull her out of the memory.

The porch light illuminated the backyard, and three adults stood around the bloody corpse. Her mother. Her father. And Sorren. Sorren rested his arm across her mother’s shoulders, and he held a bloody knife. Her mother’s shrieks carried through the open window, a high-pitched noise more suited to a wounded animal. She only stopped when Sorren pointed up to Lena’s bedroom window. Lena knew she’d been spotted, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the body. She recognized her uncle’s pale-blond hair, so similar to her own, worn long and straight down his back. She knew him, because he’d come by to introduce himself the day before, while her mother was down the street visiting a neighbor. He’d even given her a gift, a porcelain doll with hair as pale as her own. But other than his hair, the mess bore little resemblance to the man who’d handed her the doll. What she saw looked more like the ribs in the meat section at the supermarket than

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a human being. Blood stained the lawn, spattering the clothes of those who huddled around the body. Terrified, she tore the curtains from her window, stormed across her room, and threw herself on her bed. Power surged through her, and by the time she collapsed, weak and limp on her sweaty quilt, many of her possessions had been reduced to splintered pieces -including the porcelain doll. “Lena?” Giorgio didn’t reach out to touch her, but his voice held the gentle, soothing quality of someone trying to calm a dangerous animal. When she made a soft noise, he risked stroking her wrist. His fingers were warm, and he smelled like soap and gardens. Not like blood. “They were human, Lena. We couldn’t use magic against them -- it wouldn’t have been fair. And they had guns. We hurt them less with knives than we would have with magic. They’ll recover.” Glancing down at the blood on Sparrow’s muzzle, she shivered. “There were three of them. When the third guy tried to jump Matt from behind, Sparrow bit his arm before he could get to his gun.” Trembling, she reached down to stroke the shepherd’s head. Good dog. While they talked, Matt remained silent, and she sensed worry swirling around him like a dark cloud. Oh, goddess, where was Kenji? “Kenji?” “Is meeting with Jaimis -- stalling long enough to give us a chance to get you away from the estate. The plan is to meet him at Sorren’s plane -- at a private airfield about an hour from here.” The implied “unless something goes wrong” lodged in her throat before she could get the words out. Goddess help him.

***** Matt and Giorgio were arguing about whether to drive into Boston and attempt another rescue when the flight attendant ushered Kenji onto the small jet. Matt glared daggers at his tardy friend, but Giorgio rushed up and threw his arms around Kenji. When Kenji groaned and staggered back a few steps, Giorgio looked like someone had struck him. “I’m sorry. Sit, I’ll get the first aid kit.” Matt waved the flight attendant away when she attempted to help, and she retreated to the cockpit. Although Kenji hunched over, indicating a good deal of pain, Lena did a quick visual check and didn’t spot any obvious wounds. “Not something the first aid kit will help with. A few aspirin might be good, though.” Sinking into one of the plush, sofalike seats, Kenji lowered his head to his knees. “I got into a

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little pissing match with Jaimis when it came time to leave, and I refused to sign his fucking contract.” “Just so there’s not any confusion here, you mean a duel? You’re talking about going up against a witch who’s older, more experienced, and a good deal more powerful -- using magic? Because I’ll feel a hell of a lot better about this if you explain that the two of you started throwing punches or something.” Matt sank onto the seat opposite Kenji, his brows narrowed, and his mouth turned down in a worried frown.. When Kenji rolled onto his side and stretched out on the plush cushions without answering, Giorgio knelt to take his pulse. “I’m not dying, G. Just need to sleep this off.” His eyes fluttered shut, and black curls clung to his sweaty forehead. Lena struggled up from her seat, stiff and sore as hell, and rummaged through the first aid kit for some aspirin. Grabbing the orange juice the flight attendant had poured for her, she knelt beside Kenji and touched his cheek. “Here, sit up just enough to swallow. This will take the edge off, at least.” Her heart skittered at the thought of what must have happened in Boston -- all because she’d been stupid enough to let Jaimis grab her in the elevator. Matt stood and paced the length of the cabin, turned, and paced back. Sparrow followed, whining and pressing his nose to Matt’s hand. Maybe anger worked for Matt when he almost lost someone he loved, but her emotional barometer seemed bent on pure, unadulterated terror. When the flight attendant appeared behind Lena and touched her arm, she half jumped out of her skin. “We’re cleared for take off. Time to fasten your seat belts.” Though the crewmember was at least five feet eight, dressed in a sleek, black suit that made her look like a federal agent, and a witch to boot, she retraced her steps rapidly when Matt glared at her. Giorgio helped Kenji sit up and fasten his seat belt, and Matt settled across the cabin. It took all her will to sit beside Matt and secure the belt across her welted lap. From the looks of Kenji, he needed every ounce of energy to recover from Jaimis’s attack. If she reminded him of the lashes he’d seen when he last walked her dreams, she feared he’d try to heal her once they both slept. Despite the sting of the whip marks, she refused to be responsible for draining him further. Kenji was asleep by the time they were airborne, and Giorgio unfastened his seat belt to ease him onto his side. After he tucked a blanket around Kenji, Girogio plastered his body as close as he could, sharing warmth and the comfort of proximity. Distracted by her concern, Lena murmured a small pain noise under her breath, remembering her own hurts as she unbuckled and stood to stretch. “Okay, let’s take a look and see what we can do to get you feeling more comfortable.” Without the mask of anger, Matt’s concern showed through in the lines on his brow and the pain in his amber brown eyes.

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He held out his hand to her and led her to the back of the plane. When he pulled a folded divider across the cabin to create a private room, she realized he’d traveled in Sorren’s jet before. Maybe Kenji wasn’t the only one working for the powerful witch. How much did she really know about Matt, anyway? “You know you care about me. That’ll have to do for now.” Flushing, she felt the bond between them like a physical tug, stronger than before the Florida ritual. Much stronger. Goddess, she’d have to watch her thoughts. “Why don’t you raise your arms, and I’ll help you get that shirt off.” His eyes were tender, and his hesitance conveyed his fear of hurting her. “They had me tied. I can’t lift my arms that high without a lot of pain.” Exhausted, helpless, and near hopeless, she sank onto the silky blue cushions covering another set of sofalike seats. Matt reached into a recessed compartment and pulled out another first aid kit, then rummaged around until he found a pair of scissors. Tugging the cloth away from her skin, he snipped open the front of her borrowed shirt. As the cloth fell away, his eyes grew dark and stormy, and she would have been frightened if she hadn’t noticed the tears gathering at the corners. “What else did they do to you?” Matt’s voice was gentle, and he pressed his palm to her forehead, smoothing her hair away from her face. “I’m okay. Just what you see -- the whip marks -- and I’m sore from being tied.” She shuddered at the memory of them touching her and tried not to think about how Jaimis might have entertained himself with her if she hadn’t gotten away. “Don’t. You’re safe now, so don’t think about the ‘what ifs.’” Matt cut the rest of the shirt off and leaned close to inspect her back, his fingers trailing across the unmarked skin. “Okay, since your back’s clear, let’s get you into a more comfortable position for this.” Careful not to touch the welts riddling the front of her body, he grasped her hands and helped lower her onto her back. The seat cushions brushed her spine in a satiny caress. A sudden wave of fatigue, along with Matt’s tenderness when he kissed her cheek, freed the tears she’d been fighting since Kenji had gotten on the plane. “You’re okay now, little witch.” Reaching into the first aid kit, he picked up a tube of cream. “This stuff’s supposed to numb cuts and burns. Let’s try a little and see if it helps.” Before applying the first aid cream, he knelt beside the seat and bent so his lips almost -- but not quite -- touched the tip of one of the angry red lines on her chest. His breath brushed warm against her skin, and he kissed the undamaged flesh beside the welt. “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can with this.” With a shudder, she braced herself for the sting, but when he smoothed cream over a small area, the momentary discomfort quickly receded to a soothing numbness. “Mmm. Better.”

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Before applying more cream, he kissed the untouched skin around another lash mark. When she sighed her approval, he established a pattern. A kiss, then a faint tug of pain as he smoothed cream along the sore spots. Another kiss, then more cream. The aspirin she’d taken when she boarded the plane dulled the ache in her arms and legs to tolerable levels, and after a while, she started to look forward to the touch of his mouth -- even if it meant more first aid cream was forthcoming. He covered her stomach first, and when he got to her breasts, she felt warm tears on her skin as he worked. “I promise you, he’ll pay for this.”

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Chapter Eighteen Shivering at the threat, she decided now wasn’t the time to tell him Sky had done this to her. She knew Jaimis would have inflicted worse damage, but nonetheless, Sky’s betrayal stung more than the lash marks. Her breasts tended to, Matt moved down to her thighs. When he got to the lash that started on the soft flesh of her leg to one side of her sex, then continued on her inner thigh on the other side, he growled under his breath loud enough that Sparrow leaped up to see what was wrong. “It could have been worse, Matt. Really.” Reaching out to ruffle her fingers through Sparrow’s fur, she shuddered at the thought of what “worse” might have involved. “Shh, try not to think about it.” “Talk to me, then. I could use a distraction.” Maybe now she could learn a bit more about him. “You’ve flown on this plane before. Do you work for Sorren, like Kenji?” “I’ve traveled with Kenji on some of his searches for artifacts -- objects of power. He and Sorren have been friends for years, and Sorren lets him use the jet when he needs it.” “But not you? Friends with Sorren, I mean?” Matt paused to apply cream to her thigh before kissing the curve of her hip. “I know you don’t like him, but as far as I can tell, Sorren’s a decent guy. But no, I’m more interested in my nursery and the garden center than…” His breath hissed through his teeth as the loss hit home. “Look, I haven’t worked with him like Kenji has, but I trust Kenji’s judgment.” So much for conversation. That brief exchange left her more stressed than she’d been to begin with. She let her eyes drift shut and tried to predict where Matt’s lips would touch her next. When he nudged her thighs apart, she thought he planned to apply cream to a hard-to-reach spot. But his face brushed against her tight curls, and he planted a kiss just over her clit.

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When he lifted his head, her eyes fluttered open, and she reached down and cupped her hand at the back of his neck. “Make me forget all of it, Matt. Give me something else to hold on to.” Sliding the leather band from his hair, she freed the wavy strands so that when he bent to touch her with his tongue, a warm cloud of curls brushed her thighs. When what should have been delicious tension built under his skilled strokes, the muscles in her shoulders knotted, her thighs ached, and pain blossomed at the base of her skull, killing off the pleasure. Sensing her discomfort, he pulled back, his eyes soft with concern. “Not going to work?” “No, I mean yes, but I’m going to have to figure out how to relax enough to enjoy this.” “Here.” Moving up by her head, he slid his palms under her neck and kneaded tight muscles until she was purring, then slid his thumbs over her temples, soothing away the pain with slow circles. Her breathing slowed, and she drifted in the hazy warmth just shy of sleep. When he moved her legs apart and crouched between them, she focused on letting her limbs rest heavy and relaxed on the silky cushions. “Think of calm, clear water. A lake -- smooth as glass.” With the first caress of his tongue, she pictured herself floating, the lake’s warm water lapping around her. He set a gentle rhythm, building layer upon layer of sensation as he nibbled and licked his way around the wet folds of skin. “Think of rain.” Soft as springtime, rain fell around her. Careful to avoid her clit, Matt warmed her with his breath as his tongue moved in wet, lazy strokes. Her body felt as if it could melt into the lake, become part of the rain. “Feel the wind on your face.” When her hair moved against her cheek, she caught on to the fact that he was working a spell. “Give yourself to the sensations and let your body drift free.” Warm and fragrant, the breeze brushed over her breasts and caressed her cheeks, carrying the smell of apple blossoms. “Did I ever mention you smell like apple orchards?” Matt chuckled, his laugh a delicious ripple of vibrations against the damp warmth of her sex. “Kenji says pine forests.” “That too. But also apple blossoms. And spring, and sunshine, and earth.” He made a soft humming noise, sending another round of delicious vibrations through her. His tongue explored every fold, every dimple, every recess of what was fast becoming a

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triangle of pure, burning need. Amazingly, her body stayed loose, accepting the sensations without any urge to fight or arch into them. “In the circle of my love, share the touch of rain and wind, the peace of summer orchards.” His voice held power, the signature note of a witch closing a spell. As she hummed with pleasure when he let the flat of his tongue play across her clit, she felt the circle close around them. Within the sphere of magic, rain cooled her breasts. Wind toyed with Matt’s hair so it brushed her thighs, and the smell of apple blossoms mingled with the scent of fresh water. “Come for me, little witch.” One with the wind and rain, her body responded as if she were another bit of the weather he could call at will. Ripples of sensation spread across her belly, her breasts, her back. Desire left her limp and pliant, and her passion rose, rolling through her like distant thunder. Matt let his tongue stray deeper, probing inside her. Her body responded with another orgasm, as wet and balmy as a summer day. She hummed under her breath rather than moaning, relaxed, rather than tense, stretching like a sleek cat basking in the sun. After-spasms of pleasure continued to bathe her body as Matt sat up and dispersed the circle. When she reached for his hand so he could help her up, the seat cushion was damp with rain around the dry outline where her body had rested. “I didn’t imagine it. You summoned a rain shower.” She touched the silky blue seat cover, tracing her fingers over the damp cloth. Impressed, she glanced down at the beaded droplets on the carpeting. “You expected parlor tricks?” With a chuckle, he leaned forward to kiss her, playing his tongue along the edge of her lip before exploring inside. “Mmm.” Cupping her hands over his shoulders, she leaned into the kiss. When they came up for air, she studied the perfect arch where wet carpeting gave way to dry. “How are we going to explain this to Sorren?” Shaking his head so his damp curls brushed her cheeks, Matt grinned. “Occupational hazard. When witches hang out together, weird shit happens. Believe me, this plane’s seen stranger things than a bit of indoor rain.” Curious, she almost asked for further explanations, but decided if Matt and Kenji had explored the possibilities of witch sex on the plane before, she didn’t want to know about it. Something dark and serious flitted across Matt’s face, and his laughter died away. “What?” Twining her fingers with his, she leaned forward and rested her forehead on his knee. “Just that for a moment there, you were jealous. I’ve been so caught up in worrying about Kenji being jealous of you, and me being green with envy over the fact that, in a matter of days, Giorgio’s captured a part of Kenji I can’t ever claim --” Smoothing his hair

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away from his face and securing it with a leather band, Matt frowned. “It’s damn selfish of me, but I never thought about the fact that you might be jealous too.” “I’m not.” She winced, knowing he’d hear the note of untruth in that. “What I mean is, now that Kenji’s not seething with resentment, I’m starting to like him.” That one rang false for the understatement. Matt would think she made a habit of lying to guys after sex. “Okay, I’m blessed fond of him. And yeah, jealous too.” But seeing as she’d have to walk out of Matt’s life and find a new place for herself in the world once things settled down, there wasn’t much point in having this conversation. “Enough talk. I want to make you feel as good -- as limp and wet and hot -- as you made me.” She leaned forward to kiss him while her hand traced the firm outline of his cock through his pants. “You’re too sore, little witch.” “Not for this.” Matt hesitated a moment, then stood and shucked off his pants and boxers before sitting back down beside her. Pressing him back against the cushions, she settled on her side between his legs, with her shoulder resting on his thigh. As long as she didn’t make any sudden moves, the position didn’t tug at sore muscles or bother any of the lash marks. Sensing he’d passed the point where he’d enjoy the preliminaries, she slid her mouth over the swollen head of his cock. He moaned as she caressed her tongue over his rigid length, sliding and sucking, taking him so deep he bumped the back of her throat. She couldn’t give him a rainstorm, and didn’t have the energy for showier magic. But sometimes the simple things made the biggest impression. Letting her aura flow around her, cool blue and crackling with energy, she pressed outward until the flow of power found his. He cried out as she called the soft violet flood of power from him and mingled it with her own cerulean blue. His thoughts, his sensations, became her own. Her heart pounded as he arched against her mouth, and her thighs dampened with sweat. When she tasted the salty tang of precum, she knew he tasted it too. Hurtling like an avalanche, they raced each other in a frenzy of stampeding sensation. “Lena!” Tangling his fingers into her hair, he pressed her head down into the warmth of his crotch, tensed, and let out a guttural moan. Sucking long after the point when Matt lay loose and spent beside her, she enjoyed the after-spasms of pleasure. She’d tensed with him when he came, her body arching with the fury of his release. And her tormented muscles weren’t happy about the overindulgence. But when she released him and let her face rest on the soft hair covering his thigh, basking in the combined glow of their magics, she was exactly where she wanted to be. He

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stroked her hair as they rested together, but beyond that, neither of them seemed inclined -or able -- to move. Until someone rapped on the wall, and the accordion divider slid back a few inches. The flight attendant peeked in, but withdrew when she took in the scene on the sofa seats. Extending her arm through the divider, she held out a cell phone. “Call for Lena. Sorry to interrupt, but it’s your sister.” The arm remained extended, waiting for someone to collect the phone. A thousand tons of icy reality came crashing in on Lena as she struggled up, searching for a blanket or anything more satisfactory than the shreds of T-shirt Matt had cut apart when he tended her injuries. Matt walked naked toward the divider and retrieved the phone, murmuring his thanks to the flight attendant, who latched the divider into place so fast Matt’s hand almost got caught in the process. “Hey, Serena, this is Matt. We met at the hospice center the night Lena stopped by.” He opened an overhead bin, pulled out a velour blanket, and handed it to Lena. “You’re still at Sorren’s?” He nodded an affirmative to Lena. Settling beside her, he rested his hand at the base of her spine. “Are you calling about your mother?” Visible relief flooded his face at Serena’s response, and he mouthed, “It’s not that,” to Lena. “Sure, here she is.” With a flood of gratitude, she realized Matt hadn’t wanted her to hear the news of her mother’s death over the phone. If that was why Serena was calling, he’d planned to relay the news himself. “Hey, sis, how’d you get this number?” Dumb question, anyone at Sorren’s estate would have been able to pass along that information. “Strike that -- what’s up?” “Just needed to hear your voice. Scott and Dane have been keeping me up-to-date on how you’re doing -- though they didn’t fill me in on Jaimis getting ahold of you until after you were safe.” “Life’s been -- eventful. Who’s Dane?” Lena frowned, wishing she were with Serena to keep an eye on her. “He works for Sorren -- like Scott. They’ve been looking out for me, helping me find my way around on the estate and all.” Didn’t she just bet they had. “Do me a favor and remind them you’ve got a year of high school left, okay?” “Oh, please, they’re only twenty and twenty-one.” The fact that she was the only one left to look out for Serena settled like a wet, cold weight around her shoulders. But there were too many other things going on to lecture her sister about seeing older guys. “Have you been in touch with the hospice center?”

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“Mom’s the same. They have someone sitting with her around the clock, so she won’t be alone when…” Serena’s voice trailed off in a teary sob. “I know, baby, I feel the same way.” A thousandfold, because I’m the one who promised I’d be there beside her when she crossed over. “Look, you’ll be here before long, so we’ll talk then. I just needed to know for sure you were okay, and Sorren suggested I call.” Lena shivered at the thought of Serena hanging out with the elder witch, but she had to admit he’d been thoughtful to suggest the call. Then the rest of what Serena had said hit her. “I’ll be there?” “Sure. Didn’t they tell you the plane’s headed up to Minnesota?” Her sister sounded confused. “With all that’s been going on, Sorren’s been calling in everyone who works for him, along with friends and family. Safety in numbers, and all that. You won’t believe this place. It’s like witch-city around here.” “Things have been sort of chaotic here. I’m sure Matt just forgot to mention our destination.” Her glare could have flayed the skin off Matt’s back, and he flinched, developing a sudden interest in a stray thread on the corner of the blanket. “Look, hang tight, baby sister. And don’t seduce any strange witches.” That elicited a laugh. “Okay if they seduce me, then?” A startled protest issued in the background, muffled by Serena’s laughter. Sweet goddess, she had to find a safe place to settle so Serena could finish high school. But where in the name of Isis were they supposed to go? “Stay out of trouble, Sis. See you soon.” When Serena said good-bye and disconnected, Lena felt an emptiness so huge it could have swallowed the plane. “Look, I’m sorry about that.” Matt’s voice was soft, not defensive. He stroked her back as he spoke. “With Jaimis’s power play threatening to explode into an all-out turf war, we’re not safe up at the cabin.” Lena nodded. She had no doubts about the type of things Jaimis would have subjected her to if she hadn’t escaped. Like it or not, safety held top spot on their priority list at the moment. “Sorren’s place is like a small city-state, and his wards make Jaimis’s look like child’s play. We’ll have everything we need there, and we’re welcome as long as we need to stay.” He adjusted the blanket over her shoulders when she shivered. “The place is huge, Lena-cat. You don’t even have to see Sorren if you don’t want to.”

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Although she nodded, darts of apprehension spread along her spine.

***** The “small guest cottage,” as Kenji called it, put luxury resorts to shame. Snowy white carpeting covered the floors, and the walls were the same blue as a lake at dusk. Huge paintings of the surrounding countryside hung in each room, and glass shelves and tables displayed airy sculptures, along with homier touches, such as a bowl of acorns, a few pine cones, and a bird’s nest tucked into the corner of a bookshelf. The roomy kitchen, screened porch, and garden patio completed Lena’s definition of domestic paradise. On the drive through Sorren’s estate, she’d noticed at least nine clusters of similar cottages, and that was just along the main road. Kenji pointed out a farm set into the hills and explained that Sorren raised sheep and cattle, kept a full riding stable, and cultivated extensive vegetable gardens. At some point, she’d go exploring. But for now, she was content to sit and do a bit of catching up with Serena. Serena bounced on a creamy leather sofa, alternately chattering and reaching over to hug Lena and make sure she was as okay as she claimed. Giorgio stood near the French doors, looking out over the gardens. Shy by nature, the young witch seemed downright subdued by the wealth and beauty of their surroundings. Matt sat beside her -- right where he’d been since they’d gotten off the plane. He stuck so close to her side, she decided he must still feel responsible for Jaimis getting his hands on her in Florida. Serena had arrived at the guest house escorted by Scott, the witch Lena had met at the hospice center, and a tall, slender man with spiky black hair who Lena identified as Dane even before Serena introduced him. Throwing herself into Lena’s arms, Serena had dismissed the men and told them she’d call when she needed them. Gillian, a powerful healer, had been waiting to tend to Lena when they arrived. Gillian used a sweet-smelling salve on the pink lines crisscrossing her body, then summoned a burst of power to loosen her muscles and relieve her headache. Along with the healer, Sorren sent a dozen white roses with a handwritten note conveying his gratitude for their work in Florida and his relief that Lena was safe. Not one to be wooed by flowers, she was reserving her judgment until she sorted out what had happened the night her uncle died. For now, the platters of food someone just delivered smelled delicious. After eating, she planned to sleep. One entire night of safe, uninterrupted, rejuvenating sleep.

***** Matt stretched beside Lena, easing his back into the warmth of her belly. For someone who’d lost everything, he was having a tough time remembering to be miserable about the

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fact. Aaron should have chosen a realtor by now, and soon Matt expected to receive a call to fly to Sparrow Ridge and sign away his dream. But having Lena warm beside him softened the blow. If he could figure out a way to get her to let go of the idea that she couldn’t love anyone -- not for keeps -- he’d rest a hell of a lot easier. One thing he knew for certain. He wanted her in his life. Beyond that, he couldn’t sort things out. He wanted her with him. Simple as that. At the sound of voices downstairs, he picked his shorts up off the floor, slipped them on, and eased off the edge of the mattress. He managed to take a few steps without waking Lena, but before he got anywhere near the door, she rolled over and opened her eyes. “What’s happening? It’s still dark out.” “Clock says 5:30. It’ll be dawn soon.” And wouldn’t he love to crawl back in bed and make love to her as the sun rose? “Kenji’s up already. Giorgio, too, I think. I’m going down to talk with them.” Sparrow lifted his head and uttered a soft “Woof,” but when Matt motioned for him to stay, he curled his tail around his nose and went back to sleep. Reaching for the silky nightshirt on the chair by the bed, Lena pulled it over her head and got up to join him. “We need to figure out where we go from here. Now’s as good a time as any.” She lifted her hair free of the back of the nightshirt and shook her head so that it spilled past her shoulders. And didn’t that sound ominous. Frowning, he held out his hand, and they made their way downstairs. Cool morning air blew through the house, and when they entered the great room, the French doors stood open to greet the rising sun. A smudge of pink graced the horizon as the sun climbed past gray clouds. “Hey.” Startled to see Sorren sitting on the sofa beside Kenji, Matt draped a reassuring arm around Lena’s back.

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Chapter Nineteen Sorren looked unassuming in his cotton shirt and faded jeans. He’d pulled his white hair back in a tight braid, and he held, of all things, a chocolate donut. Sure beat having Lena encounter him for the first time with his hair flying loose around his wiry shoulders, staff raised high to seal a spell. “I’m sorry, Lena. I would have invited Kenji up to the house if I’d known we’d disturb you. We have matters to address, and I thought we’d meet over breakfast.” Placing the donut on a blue china plate, he stood to greet her. As she walked across the room to take his hand, her hair swished across the back of her silk nightshirt like restless moonbeams. “Thank you for your kindness in having us here.” Matt cringed at the uncharacteristic formality. When Sorren sat beside Lena on the leather sofa, Giorgio moved over beside Kenji and curled so close around him it would have been indecent if they weren’t both wearing pajama bottoms. Something hot, sour, and unpleasant twisted in Matt’s gut. But in the next heartbeat, he noticed the fear on Giorgio’s face, and his breath caught in his throat. “What is it?” Pausing beside Kenji, Matt rested a hand on his shoulder. Kenji sighed and shook his head, dark curls brushing his shoulders. “Nothing we can’t handle. Why don’t you sit down, and we’ll sort it all out?” When Kenji tilted his head toward Lena, sitting with her back rigid and her hands folded in her lap, Matt slid onto the sofa between her and Sorren. A tight fit, but he knew she’d feel better with a buffer between her and the powerful witch. Giorgio rested his head on Kenji’s shoulder, his hair tousled from sleep. If Matt wasn’t mistaken, he looked like he was about to cry.

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“A hell of a lot’s happened these past few days. Maybe we should hash out what’s been going on before we plunge into what comes next.” Judging from the look on Giorgio’s face, Matt suspected the next step would put Kenji right in the line of fire. “Jaimis discussed his goals when I was his -- guest.” Lena’s sarcasm dripped off the word. “He’s after something bigger than a short-term power grab.” His hands pressed together under his chin, Sorren’s eyebrows drew together, and a faint mist of power shimmered around him. “Jaimis wants to build an empire, bringing the strongest witches on board. His human connections include senators and CEOs, and he won’t hesitate to manipulate them to his advantage. What can you add to that?” Lena frowned. “He plans to bring witches into the limelight, outing as many as he can. Besides the power play, Jaimis envisions a nation where witches live openly, protected by law. And politicians who support him won’t see drought, floods, or wildfires in their regions.” If possible, Sorren’s brows drew closer together, and his frown created a map of lines across his weathered face. “Oddly enough, the vision’s legitimate. In a twisted way, Jaimis believes he’s some sort of liberator for witches, paving the way to an open, accepting society.” Matt knew the story, but Lena shook her head, as if she couldn’t force an ill-fitting piece into a puzzle. Hell, given the violence in her own childhood, he’d rather she hear this part from him than from Sorren. “Jaimis’s older sister wasn’t one to hide her talents. That’s where he picked up his philosophy of openness.” Matt touched Lena’s knee, and despite the gravity of the moment, the contact was enough to send a prairie fire roaring across his senses. “Some zealots caught her using magic in the forest, sliced her throat, and left her naked with a bloody cross cut on her chest -- “ Horror flickered across Lena’s face, and Matt pulled up short, certain she was reliving the violence she’d witnessed as a child. When Sorren touched Lena’s cheek, she didn’t pull away. “We were in college when it happened. I tried to guide Jaimis through his rage and madness, but his sister’s murder left him -- damaged.” The pain in Sorren’s eyes served as a reminder that they’d been friends before Jaimis had changed. “Now, he’ll pursue his goals without scruples or remorse. But I’m afraid the genuine note in his cause -- his passion for rights for our people -- will win followers.” Giorgio clasped Kenji’s hand and leaned forward, his face fierce with outrage. “He wants to pimp us out like whores, pandering our gifts for political favors.” Matt winced at the analogy. “That’s what came to mind when Jaimis explained his plans.” Lena squeezed Matt’s hand before continuing. “Worse yet, I’m almost certain Jaimis had something to do with the death of the witch from the Colorado circle. Maybe not directly, but I believe he’s more than

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capable of ordering someone to do his dirty work. I could smell it on him -- coppery, like blood and fear and tortured power.” When Lena flushed under Sorren’s unwavering gaze, Matt almost jumped in to defend her theory, but Sorren nodded his agreement. “Like you, I’ve sensed the taint of death magic on him. And sacrificing witches would account for the sudden spike in his power.” Sorren scowled. “Jaimis wants a confrontation, and we’re going to give him one before he causes more harm.” Matt glanced at Kenji, but his unflinching stare revealed nothing. “Jaimis spoke with the press and named the witches in the Florida circle. Just like we feared, he tracked their identities easily once he’d seen them at the rite. With his connections, Jaimis has more resources at his fingertips than most crime fighting agencies -and all his dark magic besides. As in Wisconsin, only the tabloids are running the story, nonetheless --” Sorren shrugged. “The Florida witches are here with their families. They were vulnerable -- likely to become Jaimis’s next victims.” Matt’s mouth felt dry. One or two reports about witches would fade into the background, but many more, and humans would be faced with the fact that they weren’t the most powerful kids on the block. Wouldn’t that just send things straight to hell? Kenji leaned forward, his hand on Giorgio’s knee. “Sorren got a call from Jaimis this morning proposing a grand duel. The cocky bastard’s sure he’ll win, so he’s offered to stop outing witches and abandon his crusade for witch-related legislation if he loses.” Sorren glanced at Kenji, and something damn close to sadness shadowed his expression. “I’m planning to accept his terms. Three against three in a grand duel.” “And if Jaimis wins?” Trust Lena to get to the heart of the matter. “If Jaimis wins, we agree to provide earth-healing services when requested, for a reasonable fee. And he’ll proceed with his plans to publicize our existence and seek protective legislation.” “Putting a price on what we did in Wisconsin and Florida is as crass as putting a price on sex.” Trying to dampen his fury, Matt reached out to touch Lena’s wrist. “If Jaimis convinces humans we exist, they’ll slaughter us. You’d think after what happened to his sister, he’d realize they won’t tolerate a more powerful group living among them, laws or no laws.” Matt didn’t bother to object to the particulars of the duel -- such as the fact that grand duels proceeded to the first death -- because it wasn’t going to happen. Not because there was too much at stake. That went without saying. But because Sorren would choose Kenji as one of his seconds -- one of the two witches who would fight, and possibly die, beside him. Even if their side won, Kenji could well be forced to kill one of the three witches on the other side to manage a victory. Things might not be the same for

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them with Lena and Giorgio on the scene, but he loved that crazy witch. He’d be damned if he’d see Kenji slaughtered, and he’d be damned if he’d see his friend forced into taking a life. “You believe you’ve got a sure win here, or you wouldn’t be discussing this.” Lena looked to Kenji for an answer. His face serene, Kenji pressed his hands together and rested his chin on the tips of his fingers, echoing Sorren’s familiar mannerism. “As things stand, we have more than a fighting chance against Jaimis. But later?” He shrugged.

Shit. Just shit. Was he the only one who understood what was at stake here? “It’s too risky. Meeting his challenge will serve whatever ulterior motive lies behind the duel.” Giorgio clutched Kenji’s hand as if he could physically prevent him from accepting the challenge. “My guess is Jaimis plans to cheat -- kill Sorren and his two seconds, and take over as elder witch.” Lena gathered her hair into three sections and wove it into a thick braid as she spoke. “But if we negotiate a fail-safe, say six witches to referee on each side, to make sure no one breaks the rules --” “You can’t be serious!” Matt leaped to his feet so fast he upset a carton of juice, and Giorgio leaned forward to mop up the puddle with a pile of napkins. “Do you know what happens in a grand duel? This is to the first death. Maybe Kenji’s death.” Getting up to join Matt, she caught his hands, forcing him to stand still and face her. “Kenji’s not going to die. Jaimis isn’t that powerful yet. Soon maybe, but I had the chance to get a feel for Jaimis’s power. Sorren’s stronger, and Kenji and Jaimis are almost evenly matched. If we can ensure he doesn’t cheat, we’ll win. But if we wait -- let him gain power and followers -- he’ll leave a river of blood across the country deep enough to swallow whole towns.” “So you’ll bargain with Kenji’s life?” “With my own.” Lena broke away from Matt and turned to Sorren. “I don’t know you, and I’ll admit I have my doubts about your character. But I know Jaimis well enough to throw everything I have into stopping him. He intended to rape me, then wipe away the memory.” Matt flushed, hot and furious, and he uttered a low growl, unable to express the depth of his rage. There were surer ways to see Jaimis dead. Kenji rose to join him, pulling Matt back against his chest, but Matt struggled free, refusing to be soothed. Lena’s voice shook as she continued. “The flip side of my earth-healing power is something dark and wild. I’ll stand beside you and Kenji in the duel.” Matt whirled around, his face hot and his fists clenched. “No!” Something fierce flitted across Lena’s face, and a vase wobbled on the shelf. As Matt met her stare, several more items rocked, and a picture fell from the wall with a sharp crack.

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If Matt didn’t stand down and soothe her, Sorren would get a firsthand view of the destructive power she’d mentioned. Willing himself to breathe slowly, Matt took a step toward her and extended his upturned palms. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.” From the look on her face, the apology didn’t go far enough, but at least nothing else clattered to the floor. “You’re strong, child.” His face thoughtful, Sorren rested his chin on his hand. “I have no doubt you’d prove a worthy second.” Matt cursed under his breath. “But I’m going to decline your offer. Kenji has volunteered to stand beside me, as has Gillian, the third anchor at the Wisconsin rite. With our experience, we have the best chance of coming out of this victorious. And Gillian’s a healer, besides. A talent we may well need during the duel.” Matt’s relief that Lena wouldn’t be involved did nothing to diffuse his fear for Kenji. “I’d like to referee, then. What happened between me and Jaimis -- this is personal.” An unfamiliar mix of fear and hatred darkened Lena’s face. Sorren nodded. “Giorgio and Matt, too, if they’d like. I’ll insist on six referees for each side in the terms of engagement.” “I’ll go.” Giorgio looked tortured as he stared at Kenji, but he nodded his assent. “Matt?” No empty assurances. All Kenji could offer was a question. “I’ll referee.” Reluctant to stick around and reveal just how damn frightened he felt at the prospect of Kenji going up against the dark witch, he stormed out of the house and ran full out across the gardens.

***** Sorren rose to join Lena as she stared out the window at Matt’s retreating back. “Before I leave, I think you have questions for me.” With life going all to shit anyway, why not find out the truth about what had happened that night? “Jaimis said my father killed the man who raped my mother.” “Jaimis may believe that, but you know your father didn’t have a violent nature. He was the gentlest soul I ever met. That’s part of why he kept you separate, you know. The more uncivilized aspects of our social interactions -- our power plays and occasional duels -disturbed him.” “He insisted we were human, with a few extra skills tacked on.” Lena frowned. “You don’t believe that anymore?”

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“No. Not any longer. But my dad believed it with all his heart, and if he killed William…” Holy goddess, it would tilt her world off its axis. She couldn’t bear the thought that everything she knew about her father may have been a lie. Sorren rested a hand on her arm, and she didn’t pull away. “You knew your father well. Don’t doubt your memories. That horrible night, when he called and told me William had contacted you, I came down to help.” “Jaimis claimed the three of you were friends, once.” She needed to sort out the intricacies of the past, to know the truth of it. “I was proud to call your father my friend. Jaimis and I were lovers -- many years ago -- but your father never trusted him. They were acquaintances, at best.” “The night you came to our house, when William died. Did you…?” “I wish I could say I did, but I didn’t kill him.” Sorren’s eyes reflected concern, and worry lines traced across his brow. Kenji got up from the sofa and walked over to stand behind Lena, his hands warm on her shoulders. “Who, then?” Oh, goddess, did she really want to know?

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Chapter Twenty “Your mother feared William planned to violate you as he’d violated her.” Sorren sighed and shook his head, as if the rest was too weighty to get out all at once. “My mother?” Something dark howled inside her. “Yes. Your father and I planned to frighten William off, but your mother feared that wouldn’t ensure your safety. She protected you, Lena, in the only way she knew how.” Black wind rushed around her, and at the center of the fury she saw a man, carved up like a side of meat, his white blond hair spread around him on the bloody grass. “Go. Please? Just go.” When she lost control, she didn’t want Sorren to see. In some corner of her mind, she heard him murmur something to Kenji before stepping out the door. When the first lamp tipped over, Kenji tugged her over to the couch and pulled her onto his lap. “You can control this, Lena.” Not only had her mother feared she’d become a monster like her uncle, she’d been afraid her daughter would turn out like her -- capable of deadly violence. Realizing she thought of her mother as if she were already dead, Lena shuddered, and a vase shattered on the end table. “Lena, look at me!” Gripping her face between his hands, Kenji turned her so she was eye to eye with him. Giorgio jumped when a framed seascape flew off the wall, but to his credit, he didn’t flee the room. Lena would have run, if she were him. Given the choice, she wouldn’t want to be here when everything unraveled, and she lost the last threads of control over the raw, surging energy pulsing inside her. “Look at me!” Kenji’s voice was fierce, and his fingers dug into Lena’s cheekbones. “Watch what I’m going to do.”

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Kenji pointed at the lamp she’d tipped over, and she stared, afraid he might be planning something more frightening than anything she could manage. The lamp wobbled, and she felt the fierce concentration, the waves of energy, pouring off Kenji. After a few moments, the end with the shade lifted a couple inches. Sweat slicked Lena’s palms. As far as she knew, she was the only witch who could move objects like that -though never with this degree of control. “Don’t be frightened.” Giorgio snuggled close beside her and Kenji, pressing his face against her neck. “Kenji’s been practicing. He’s pretty good at this.” With a decisive thud, the lamp righted itself on the table. His face covered with sweat, Kenji got up and laid the lamp on its side, then sat beside Lena. “Your turn.” “I can’t.” The power only worked when she was upset. She couldn’t control it. “Sure you can, because I could sure as hell never do that before we exchanged power that night in the cabin. Now stand the lamp upright on the table.” Wincing at his abrupt tone, she focused on the glass base. No, Kenji had lifted it from the shade. Adjusting the direction of energy, she pictured the object righting itself. “You’re thinking too much. You know how this works. All you’ve got to do is make it happen when you want it to, for once.” Pressing his fingers against her thighs, as if he could will her to do this, Kenji sighed. “Try again.” Sweat coated her back, and the sleep shirt clung to her like a second skin. More than anything she wanted to escape, but Kenji placed a firm hand on her wrist. Just when she thought her skull would split open with the effort, the lamp clattered into place. “Yes!” Leaping up from the sofa and half carrying her with him, Kenji spun her around. As he kissed her, tears streamed down her face. If Kenji could do this, too, and she could control her power, did it mean she wasn’t some kind of freak? Overwhelmed, she kissed him back, not a friendly peck on the cheek, but a wet, passionate, full-tongued kiss. “Glad to see no one’s dwelling on the fact that Kenji’s willing to throw his life away in a fucking duel.” Standing in front of the French doors with the light of morning behind him, Matt looked like death and wrath itself. As Matt strode into the room, glaring at Lena, Kenji, and Giorgio in turn, someone rapped on the front door and stepped into the entryway without waiting for an invitation. Lena spun toward the intruder. The man in the expensive suit, blue silk shirt, and blue and gray striped tie didn’t look like a threat, though she could swear she recognized him from somewhere. His hair was brown with golden highlights, and he had the lean, muscular build of a runner. She couldn’t place why, but something about his amber flecked brown eyes seemed hauntingly familiar. “Oh, shit.” Matt’s look of jealous rage melted away, and an expression of pure misery took its place. He looked ready to flee back out the French doors, but when Kenji gave him a warning glance, he crossed the room and slumped onto the sofa.

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Blushing, Lena realized she’d seen the stranger on a news show a few weeks ago. “Senator Kouklakis?” “Please, among witches, there’s little place for surnames, let alone titles. Call me Alec.” Stepping forward to shake the senator’s hand, Lena introduced herself as she scrambled to make sense of things. As Kenji settled beside Matt on the sofa, Matt looked as if he’d like nothing better than to disappear. “Sorren mentioned you’d be staying a while. I’m on my way up to the house to discuss the current crisis, but I wanted to let you know I’m in town. Maybe we could meet for dinner tonight?” Alec smiled at Matt and took a step back toward the door, a strange mix of hope and apprehension playing across his face. “Thanks for the invitation, Senator. But I’ve got other plans.” Matt’s brows tilted inward as he scowled, and the corners of his mouth turned down. “I understand. I’ll be staying at the main house, if you change your mind.” As Alec retreated out the door, his shoulders slumped. Kenji waited till the sound of footsteps trailed off in the distance. “That was cruel.” “So was getting Donielle pregnant and never looking back.” Giorgio fidgeted with a crystal glass half full of orange juice, then got up and started clearing dishes to the kitchen. Lena resisted the urge to join him. The glaring truth of how little she knew about Matt knocked the wind out of her. Stupid, to assume he didn’t know his father just because Jaimis had implied as much. With a sigh, Kenji gestured for Lena to sit beside him. “Since Matt isn’t likely to discuss this, I’ll set things straight. Alec was young, drunk, and stupid, but I asked about what happened that night, and he didn’t make the mistake of thinking a human woman could control her cycle like a witch. They used protection, though obviously it failed. He never imagined he had a son until Sorren made the connection, and blood tests confirmed his hunch.” Her bond with Matt vibrated across her senses, communicating a steady flow of pain and resentment regarding the senator. Lena swallowed hard, resolving to run as far and as fast as she could after the duel. In a handful of days, Matt had wound his way around her heart. But when it came right down to it, they were strangers thrown together by circumstance, and she didn’t know the first thing about him. Standing so fast he banged his shins on the coffee table, Matt got up and fled the house for the second time in less than an hour.

***** The sound of crickets drifted through the open windows, and the summer breeze held a hint of rain. After over a year of drought conditions, Lena found the scent of dampness in

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the air intoxicating. Other than the sound of Sparrow snoring in the corner, the only noise came from Giorgio working in the kitchen. For their own reasons, they’d opted not to go along when Kenji and Matt headed up to the main house to hammer out plans for the duel. Lena suspected Giorgio was distraught at the thought of anything happening to Kenji and couldn’t face any discussion of the pending events. As for her, she’d spent the afternoon with Serena, picnicking in the woods. But Matt’s foul mood at dinner had soured her tenuous grasp on a bit of peace and dragged her back into the turmoil with which she’d started the day. Furious, she reminded him they’d be heading off in different directions once the dust settled, so they may as well get used to spending time apart. But the tattered copy of My Antonia she’d borrowed from the shelf in the den wasn’t enough to keep her mind off tomorrow. With a sigh, she dog-eared the page and set the book down beside her. The smell of baking bread drew her like a magnet. Maybe she and Giorgio could keep each other from sinking into gloomy thoughts. In the heat of the June evening, even the brush of her silk sleep shirt across her thighs felt like too much contact. She scuffed her feet in the thick carpeting as she made her way down the hall, trying to shake off the irritability that clung to her like summer sweat. On some level, she knew Matt feared losing Kenji as much as Giorgio did, and what Giorgio expressed as sadness, Matt converted into surliness. But she didn’t have to like it. “Hey.” Giorgio looked up as she entered the kitchen, wiped his hands on a blue striped towel, and pulled out one of the stools at the center island. “Have a seat. I could use the company.” Indecisive, she leaned against the counter. “Can I help? I used to bake with…” The memory of bowls of rising dough, heady scents drifting up from the loaves cooling on the counter, and her father humming while he mixed flour, water, and yeast hit her with an emotional punch that left her mute. Giorgio lifted her hands in his and pulled her in front of him, her back pressed against the solid warmth of his chest as he leaned over her. She stiffened. But she relaxed when he guided her hands into the warm dough. With his palms covering the backs of her hands, they worked the dough together. As she relaxed, surrounded by familiar smells and cradled between Giorgio’s arms, a tear slid down her cheek. “You used to bake bread with your father, didn’t you?” Minutes passed before she answered, but as they worked the dough, the silence didn’t seem to matter. “My mom’s the one dying, and I feel like I should feel sad -- or at least feel something other than guilt and fear -- but every good memory I have is about my dad. He taught me to make bread when I was so small I needed to stand on a kitchen chair to reach the counter.”

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Giorgio lifted his hand to brush away her tears, leaving a trail of flour on her cheeks. “I don’t think there are rules about things like this. I’ve known Kenji a handful of days, and I’m scared half to death when I think about what might happen tomorrow night. Feelings don’t have to make sense. They just are.” When the buzzer on the stove timer went off, she jumped. With a reassuring smile, Giorgio wiped off his hands, grabbed a pot holder, and pulled two loaf pans out of the oven. He singed his hands on the hot loaves as he set them on the cooling racks and sucked the tips of his fingers to take away the sting. Despite herself, Lena laughed. Never mind that he was only four years younger than her. At the moment, he looked like an overgrown teenager trying to help out in his mom’s kitchen. “Here, stick them under cold water.” When she guided his hand under the cool spray, he leaned into her and kissed the side of her neck. Swatting his butt with a dishtowel, she pulled away and went back to working the dough. Giorgio’s dark hair hung across his eyes as he tilted his head and offered a boyish smile. In his tight white T-shirt and cotton pajama bottoms, he could have passed for an overgrown Boy Scout. Though she’d never seen a Boy Scout with shoulders that broad, or a stomach that toned. No wonder Kenji had spent most of the afternoon with his chin on Giorgio’s shoulder as Giorgio pecked away at a borrowed laptop, working on his thesis. Take one powerful witch, add keen intelligence, gentleness, and humor, all wrapped in a gorgeous body, and Giorgio was darn near irresistible. But though Giorgio registered on her personal radar, brooding, moody Matt turned her landscape upside down and exploded across her senses like a natural disaster. Oh, hell, like Giorgio said, feelings didn’t have to make sense. They just were. Lena wiped off her hands and sliced a piece of warm cinnamon bread. “Mmm!” Oh, goddess, she hadn’t tasted bread this good since her dad died. She shivered as the rich, buttery-cinnamon taste melted across her tongue. “Spend the night with me, little witch, and I’m betting I can get you to make more enthusiastic sounds than that.” As she whirled to face Matt, her emotional barometer flipped back and forth between startled and aroused. “Bless it, don’t sneak up on me like that, or you’ll find yourself on the wrong end of a spell.” Covering the rest of the distance between them, he snatched the bread from her fingers and gobbled half the slice in a single bite. “I see what you’re going on about. Damn, this is good.” He tore off a piece and raised it to Lena’s lips. Pulling away, she glared at Matt and glanced toward the end of the hall, where Kenji thumbed through leather-bound volumes on a bookshelf between the great room and the

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kitchen. Her heartbeat slowed, then sped up in a rapid hiccup of fear. Sweet Brighid, she hardly knew these men, but Kenji claimed enough of a hidey corner in her heart that the thought of him going up against Jaimis tomorrow left her half paralyzed with fear. “Join us?” Lena smiled at Kenji, putting all the warmth and steadiness she could into the invitation. She couldn’t imagine what must be going through his head in anticipation of the duel. Even if he walked out of the circle alive -- along with Sorren and Gillian -- one of them would have to kill another witch to manage it. Taking part in lesser duels couldn’t have prepared him for what lay ahead. As Kenji stepped into the room and perched on one of the oak stools surrounding the center island, Giorgio covered a blue mixing bowl with a dishtowel and set it near the oven so the dough could rise. Matt ripped off a hunk of bread and handed it to Kenji, dripping cinnamon butter across their hands. When Matt leaned down to lick the sticky sweetness off Kenji’s wrist, Giorgio stepped up behind him, rested a hand at the small of Matt’s back, and whispered something in his ear. Somehow the exchange ended up with Matt laughing, and Giorgio licking the rest of the cinnamon butter from Kenji’s hand. “That’s one of your gifts, isn’t it, Giorgio?” Managing to mark out his territory without angering Matt was no small coup for Giorgio. “You did it with me one night at Kenji’s cabin -- gentled me when I was distressed.” Matt slid down against the side of the counter and came to rest amid the mess of flour, sugar, and cinnamon scattered across the black tiles. When he held out his hands to her, she relented and let him pull her down to his lap. “Maybe, little witch, but what Giorgio just said would have been enough to get me to back off and let him snuggle up to Kenji -- absent any special talent at gentling people.” Settling across from them on the floor, Kenji leaned back against the oak cabinets encircling the granite workspace and breakfast bar at the center of the kitchen. “Giorgio whispered that if Matt was willing to let him have a piece of me -- a place in my heart and my life -- he bet he could entice you into a…” Matt filled in the rest when Kenji hesitated, “A playful tangle of limbs on the kitchen floor.” Shocked, she glanced up at the Boy Scout look-alike. Giorgio made a show of sliding the next couple of loaf pans into the oven, setting the timer, and wiping down the counter. His task completed, he slid down beside Kenji and nestled his face into the curls pooling around Kenji’s neck. “Yes, one of my gifts is gentling people. Here,” he reached out and took her wrists in his hands, pressing her palms against his chest. “You’re sad tonight. Your feelings for your mother aren’t always as dark as you think. I’m guessing spending the day with your sister

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brought some of them to the surface. Close your eyes, and curl your body within the boundaries of my aura.” Curious to see where Giorgio’s spell would take her, she scooted out of Matt’s lap and moved forward until her face, as well as her palms, rested against the comforting warmth of Giorgio’s chest. He smelled like flour, spices, and soap. Kenji sat close enough that a hint of lavender and citrus overlapped the scent she identified as Giorgio. Matt scooted across the tiles until she knelt between his legs, then leaned forward to rest his face against her back. The gesture wasn’t so much possessive as hungry. As Giorgio’s magic lulled her, the bond between her and Matt opened like sand clearing from the mouth of a river. Beneath his worry and anger lay a pool of sadness a mile wide. “Is it your dad? That’s what upset you today?” Bless it, what was she thinking? If anything was going to set him off again, that ought to do it. Shifting against her so his face rested close to the back of her neck, buried in the unbound silkiness of her hair, Matt sighed. “I’m sorry, little witch. I should have told you about Alec. To be fair, he met my mother at a party -- she wasn’t working the streets back then. He was only in town for a night -- never had any idea I existed until Sorren made the connection when I was seventeen.” “What happened -- to your mom, I mean? What changed, that she started selling her body?” The cocoon of warmth around them calmed her. At the moment, with the smell of baking bread heavy in the air, any question -- no matter how personal -- seemed acceptable.

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Chapter Twenty-One “I happened. She’d been living with her folks, waiting tables at the local diner. They’re Bible-thumping Southerners, and when she started to show, they kicked her out. She fled north, stayed at a home for pregnant teens in Detroit until I was born, then found a pimp.” “And you blame Alec for all that?” Giorgio’s voice was low and drowsy, and he shifted so his arm rested against Matt’s knee. “No. But he wasn’t there for me when I started doing weird shit. The first time I summoned a storm indoors, my mother called in a Pentecostal minister. The next time, she called a priest. She thought I was possessed. Growing up with that shit…” He shrugged. “I know Alec had no way of knowing about me. But shit, a witch should be more careful about leaving a trail of bastards behind.” “There’s just you, Matt, and Alec’s tried to do right by you. He’d claim you as his own -- politics be damned -- if you let him.” Kenji leaned close and kissed the side of Matt’s neck. “Look, I’m not upset about Alec tonight. The duel…” Matt touched Kenji’s cheek and shook his head. “That, and I talked to Aaron earlier. The realtor found a buyer for the garden center. The orchards, the nursery, the works. All I have to do is show up at the closing next month.” When Giorgio shifted to wrap his arm across Matt’s shoulders, he didn’t protest. Lena wondered if Matt felt the honeyed warmth pouring across the physical connection. Peaceful, drowsy relaxation seemed to emanate from the point where her face and hands touched Giorgio’s chest. Whatever soothing spell Giorgio wove, he cast it well. “I’m sorry, Matt. I keep thinking you and I have hit bottom -- can’t possibly lose anything else. But I guess until you’ve signed the papers at the closing, and until my mother…” Her voice trailed off, and she felt herself sinking toward despair.

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Giorgio stroked the side of Lena’s neck, and the torrent of fear and guilt subsided. “Can you use this on people who aren’t open to it? Gentle hostile parties?” Kenji’s voice sounded thick and sleepy, but his eyes remained sharp with interest. “Sometimes. Worked pretty well on my high school teachers.” Giorgio gave Kenji a “butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth” look, then nipped the back of his ear. Matt laughed, a sound so sudden and hearty, Lena sat up in surprise. As soon as she lost contact with Giorgio’s skin, fears about the duel crept in at the edges of her thoughts, and she pressed her face back against the smooth contours of his chest before she could plummet into a full-blown panic attack. Perhaps Giorgio’s offer to entice her into a tangle of limbs on the kitchen floor had been more than an attempt to claim ownership of Kenji without hurting Matt. She touched Giorgio’s face to get his attention. “This was what you were offering when you told Matt you’d entice me into a wild tangle of limbs on the floor, wasn’t it? If we’re all touching you tonight, you can take away the fear?” “No, that part’s up to each of you. But I can calm everyone down a little -- and offer a hell of a distraction.” Giorgio smoothed his thumb along Lena’s cheek, then stroked the long strands of hair that swept across his chest every time she moved. “My gift -- I can share a lot of warmth, ease some pain. But the rest -- where your thoughts go -- that’s your choice.” “What do you get out of this?” Matt sounded more curious than suspicious. “Feels good for me too. The closeness, the melody of it. The easing of pain. Last thing I want to do tonight is lie awake, thinking about what could happen tomorrow.” Cupping his hand around Kenji’s elbow, he smiled and tilted his head toward Matt and Lena. “There’s a bond among the three of you. I’d like to share a piece of that.” “And by soothing us tonight, you’ll…?” Lena didn’t know how to phrase the rest. Would Giorgio share the same kind of link she, Matt, and Kenji had formed when their magics collided? When Giorgio lifted her chin on his palm and bent to kiss her, she melted against him. At her back, she sensed only affection and arousal from Matt. No jealousy. So it only half surprised her when Matt leaned forward to claim Giorgio’s next kiss. By the time Giorgio kissed Kenji, an almost smothering web twined around them, as soft as the smell of baking bread, as sensuous as a damp tongue lapping across her breast. “Your power -- you can use it to seduce, as well as to gentle.” Panting, Lena rode the currents of energy. “Never tried before, so this may be a fluke.” Giorgio kissed her again, and she opened her mouth to let his tongue dart inside. “The three of you are blessed willing to be seduced, so it’s not like I’ve got a lot of resistance. Any of you could walk away if you wanted to. The choice is yours.”

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Humming like the wings of a thousand birds, Matt’s arousal buzzed across their shared connection. She sighed when his need mingled with her own willingness to find comfort here tonight. Kenji got up to grab a tablecloth from one of the pantries, spread it on the cool ceramic tiles, then spread two more nearby, overlapping with the first. A fine dusting of flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg rose into the air, disturbed by the soft cloth. Matt lifted and rolled her onto her back so that her top half stretched across woven cotton, and her legs lay sprawled over smooth linen. Before she could protest that Sorren might object to the not-so-gentle use of his tablecloths, Giorgio snuggled beside her, and the gentle touch of his magic soothed across her senses. As she let go of any remaining doubts, the current of energy that was Matt opened further, followed by a thread of need she recognized as Kenji’s desire. This connection must be what Giorgio was after, the unbelievable closeness as they drifted on each other’s thoughts. “And how do you know what I’m after, sweet witch?” Giorgio undid the buttons of her sleep shirt, eased her arms free, and tossed the silky fabric aside. With a sigh, he leaned over her stomach and trailed his tongue across her belly until she shivered under his mouth. “Because you’re already part of us.” That had to be why he could intercept her thoughts as easily as Matt or Kenji. Without the fanfare of colliding lights and fierce passion they’d experienced the first time, he’d managed to forge the connection. “You’re one of us.” “Hmm.” Giorgio nuzzled her breast, and she shifted so her nipple brushed his mouth, urging him to bring her higher. “But you’re wrong about the passion. That part’s still building. Fierce -- I think you’ll be able to call this fierce.” With that, he took her nipple into his mouth, and she cried out as her nerve endings sizzled with the contact. Matt echoed her cry with a moan. In a frenzy of activity that served as a background for the deep, drowning pull of Giorgio’s power, Kenji and Matt stripped away jeans, shorts, shirts, boxers, and briefs. His warm thighs pressed against her shoulders, Kenji straddled her and guided his cock into her mouth. She tensed, but Giorgio’s thoughts pressed against hers, full of trust and friendship, and she gave herself to the moment. Playing her tongue over Kenji’s velvety, rigid length, she reached out blindly, searching for Matt. When she found him, she tugged at his arms until he lowered himself onto her. “You sure, little witch?” Lost, was more like it. Lost to the thick, satiny glide of Kenji in her mouth, and the teasing caress of Giorgio’s tongue on her breast. Clawing Matt’s shoulders, she dragged him closer, pulling his weight down on top of her, and arched her hips until her mound pressed against his straining groin. Finding his thoughts, she saw herself through Matt’s eyes, wild tendrils of hair spread out around her on the blue tablecloth, legs stretched wide on green linen, lips straining to swallow all of Kenji. She moaned at the intensity of his arousal, then pushed outward with

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her own set of images, envisioning Matt filling her up until she felt near to bursting, spreading her wide as she arched to give easier access. And her love, goddess help her, her love for him. She shared that with him too. As Giorgio’s power twined around them, she pictured the four of them entangled in a web of ivy, bound together by stems and leaves so thick they couldn’t be snapped. No, that must be Matt’s thought. She didn’t think in garden metaphors. Seizing control, she latched onto the image of the ocean as Matt thrust inside her, and when she added a pod of cavorting dolphins, Kenji trembled with laughter. “Goddess, Matt’s got a forest of ivy growing in my head, and Lena’s got dolphins mating in the waves, and Giorgio,” Kenji’s voice softened, and his laughter melted away. “Sweet G, I thought I’d never find you. And tomorrow…” Despite Giorgio’s calming influence, a ribbon of dread wound through her. Tomorrow, Kenji could lose everything -- his life, his love for Giorgio, his affection for Matt, his growing friendship with Lena, his family, his plans for the future. An image of Kenji lying still on dry, cracked dirt -- Giorgio kneeling over him as a sea of blood leaked from Kenji’s side onto the thirsty soil -- knocked the wind out of her. She twisted sideways to free her mouth and tried to struggle upright. Matt slid off her and moved back enough to give her space to breathe. “You can’t! Kenji, you can’t go tomorrow!” Panic tore through her, raging across her senses, an inferno of fear. Giorgio moved closer, then covered her body like a blanket, the brush of his skin and the whisper of his spell surrounding her until panic died away. “The vision’s set, Lena. I’ve seen it several times. Sorren saw it first, and he says it has the weight of foreknowledge. Not what might be -- what will be.” Though his voice held steady, Kenji’s hand shook as he smoothed it across her cheek. Matt lay down on the floor beside them, pressing closer until his shoulder wedged into the crease between Giorgio’s chest and her own. “We don’t know he’s dead. Still and bleeding doesn’t mean dead.” She clung to that hope with the entire force of her will. “I have to be there, Lena. Jaimis has been recruiting witches like fury along the East Coast. With the fear he’s spread by outing the Florida circle, everyone’s desperate for his protection.” Kenji rubbed his hand across his eyes as if to ease a headache, sighed, and shook his head. “We know he’s not above sacrificing a few of his followers -- stealing their power for what he considers the greater good. He’ll be unstoppable if we back out of the duel. The only way out of this is to hurt him -- humble him in front of his followers. I can do that. I’m certain of it.”

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Kenji sat quietly, his head bowed, a cloud of curls hanging in front of his face. He rested his upturned palms on his knees, and Giorgio reached out to touch his hand. Still blanketing Lena, Giorgio pulled Kenji closer, drawing him within the cocoon of warmth. “Lena had dolphins fucking in your head, and Matt had you wrapped in ivy, and I --” Giorgio’s voice held a challenge, and Lena shivered with a mix of apprehension and anticipation. “And you were thinking about this.” Kenji scooted closer, his knees pressing against Matt’s back. Leaning across Matt, he nibbled Giorgio’s neck, then lowered his head to suck the curve of Lena’s shoulder. By the time he drew his tongue in a line along Matt’s spine, Giorgio joined in, nibbling, tonguing, sucking, and biting every bit of flesh that came into reach. With a groan, Giorgio struggled out of his pajama bottoms, but didn’t bother to shed his soft cotton T-shirt. When Matt licked his way along the sensitive spot at the back of her knee, Lena laughed and tried to wriggle free. But Kenji held her down. Someone’s mouth found her breast, though she couldn’t say whose, and nuzzling her head to the side, she scattered a trail of kisses down Giorgio’s leg. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and for a few moments she managed to capture Matt’s cock, curving her tongue around the shaft as she sucked him deep into her throat. “Enough of that. Got to make it last.” Squirming free of her mouth, Matt groaned, long and low. Someone flipped her onto her side, and Giorgio pressed his tightly muscled body along the length of her, insistent and hungry -- his chest crushing her breasts and his cock rigid against her pelvis. “Yes.” She shivered with anticipation. Kenji lifted her leg over Giorgio’s hip, and she squirmed in frustration when Giorgio hesitated before entering her. When Kenji eased himself onto the tangled cotton and linen cloths, his front pressed hard against Giorgio’s back, Lena thought she’d come to pieces. They were really going to… She was really going to… Wondering if some things worked better in fantasy than in real life, she clung to Giorgio’s forearms in an attempt to find remnants of the tranquility he’d brought her earlier. But seething need had taken its place -- that, and a hint of red-hot fear for what Kenji would face tomorrow night. With a rush of empathy, she kissed Giorgio’s neck and thanked the goddess Matt wouldn’t be the one to stand against Jaimis and his two seconds tomorrow. The thought of losing Kenji tore a searing, hollow trench through her heart. But Matt… Twisting around to glance over her shoulder at him, she took in his sleepy amber brown eyes, the wild tangle of hair brushing his shoulders, the sensual curve of his lips. Matt.

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Resting his chest against the damp curve of her back, he pushed her hair to the side and planted a rain of kisses along her neck, burying fear and tugging her into a vortex of need. Her hair shifted in the breeze, and she half wondered if he’d make it rain in the kitchen like he had on the plane. Cinnamon and flour drifted on the wind he’d called, and the smell of baking bread soothed away the rest of her fear. By the time Matt released her mouth and came up for air, she felt -- calmer? No, more like horny as hell. She didn’t know what Kenji was doing behind Giorgio, but whatever it was had Giorgio humming under his breath as he pressed his rigid length against her pubic mound. When Matt curled against her and slid two fingers past the tight ring of muscle guarding her anus, she cried out in surprise. She’d barely adjusted to the intrusion of Matt’s fingers when Giorgio reached down to spread the lips of her pussy and entered her, filling her in one stroke. Oh, goddess, maybe it really was possible, what Giorgio had been thinking. “Ready, G?” Kenji’s question, growled out between clenched teeth, sounded more like a warning. A moment later, Giorgio groaned and bucked against her so hard the head of his cock bumped her cervix. Showers of blue sparks played out behind her closed eyelids, and when she managed to open her eyes, wavering blue light enveloped them. Without realizing it, she’d cast her aura outward to include the three men, adding its touch to echo Giorgio’s magic. Giorgio’s eyes were closed tight, and he arched his head back to rest against Kenji’s forehead. Kenji threw his arm across Giorgio and Lena, feeling around until he found some part of Matt to grab onto. When Kenji used the extra hold for leverage, Giorgio cried out and pushed harder into her dripping wet heat. Thinking of Kenji filling Giorgio’s tight little ass nearly did her in, and she fought the rising crest of her climax. If they were going to do this right -- the way Giorgio had imagined it -- bless it, how was she going to wait that long? And was it even possible? When Matt withdrew his fingers and pressed something much larger against her quivering bottom, she whimpered. She couldn’t possibly take both of them at once. “You felt this in a dream, Lena-cat. Matt and I took you this way when we were dream walking, remember?” Kenji’s voice shook with exertion, but he didn’t slow the rhythm of his thrusts. Still, something about his reassurance quieted her apprehension. “I won’t do this unless you want it, Lena-cat.” Matt pressed closer, cupping one hand around her breast and tangling the other in the thatch of hair that fell across Giorgio’s lidded eyes. Even in the dream, she’d been aware of pain. Of an impossible fullness, a stretching so intense, the sensation stopped just shy of tearing. One of them easing in as the other

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withdrew, a slow, sensual dance of fiery need. And sharing. She’d never forget the feeling of being joined so closely, even their heartbeats were linked. “We’ll share this, Lena-cat.” Giorgio didn’t open his eyes, but his voice eased around her like a kiss, tender and gentle. “You know what that means?” “The three of you would feel it too, take some of it away for me.” She moaned as Matt spread her cheeks, pressing harder against the tight passage his fingers had abandoned. A mutinous need tore through her, threatening to shut down common sense. “Please?” In the thrumming vibration of Giorgio’s voice, Lena sensed a world of wanting -- almost desperation. His magic wound through her thoughts, through Matt’s, in a fiercely determined attempt to belong. “You need this bond -- this joining -- to keep you whole if anything happens to Kenji.” She shivered at the thought. “No, I need this so when he lives, when he recovers, I’ll belong as much as he does.” A current of dread undercut the forced optimism in Giorgio’s assertion. Blinking back tears, Lena tilted her head to brush a kiss across Giorgio’s lips. When she reached past him to touch Kenji’s face her fingers came away wet. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten to this point. Sweet goddess, she didn’t even know how to deal with Matt’s affection, let alone how to cope with feelings that strong from three witches. But the naked hope in Giorgio’s voice -- I need this so when he lives, when he recovers, I’ll belong as much as he does -- cleaved her in half and left her shaking. “Yes. Yes, Matt.” Something told her she’d just said yes to more than sex, but she’d sort the rest out later.

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Chapter Twenty-Two “We’ll be here -- to share, to take the edge off.” Giorgio arched his neck to kiss her forehead then leaned back into Kenji’s embrace. Withdrawing until just the head of his cock breached her, Giorgio grabbed her hips to steady her, helping her balance on her side. Matt arched forward, sliding through the slippery mess where she and Giorgio joined. With a sound almost like a purr, he coated his shaft in her fluids. Then he pulled back, positioning himself for penetration. “Wait.” Goddess, Giorgio had better be right that they could take the edge off this, because, otherwise, she suspected she wasn’t going to like it. Steadying herself, she took a deep breath, then another, and lost the third when Giorgio tilted her chin up and claimed a deep, wet kiss. The kiss stole the air from her lungs, and black velvet edged her vision by the time Matt asked her, “Now?” “Mmm.” With her thoughts, she pulled him to her, tangled herself in his desire, his hunger. Kenji lifted his head to watch her face. She caught flashes of herself through his eyes, tense and expectant as she pressed into Giorgio’s kiss, waiting for Matt to claim her ass. The smothering desire intensified when Giorgio shared his appreciation for the honeyed warmth of her pussy, surrounding him like a sheath of damp velvet. He shivered with the urgent need to drive deeper -- to bury himself inside her -- tempered by his concern that she not feel pain when Matt entered her. Although Giorgio had a firm grip on her chin, his palm cradling her face and his fingers and thumb tight against her cheeks, she struggled against the kiss, truly dizzy now. In the next instant, the tantalizing warmth between her ass cheeks gave way to pressure, and for a

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second everything hung suspended, no breath, no movement, no awareness, other than Matt’s crooning whisper as he tucked his face close to the back of her head. And then the pressure blossomed into stretching, and the stretching into a dull ache. She’d expected the burn, but she hadn’t been ready for how the pressure would tug forward to where Giorgio spread the wet lips of her pussy around his thick shaft. Oh, goddess. Something between a whimper and a moan tore from her throat when Giorgio let her escape his kiss long enough to take a breath. Then his lips were on her mouth again, bruising and warm. Kenji reached forward and tangled his hand in her hair, pulling hard enough to make her cry out against Giorgio’s mouth. When Matt claimed the first inch, pushing past the tight ring of muscle, she thought she’d fly out of her skin, rocked loose by the piercing pleasure-pain. Power spun itself around her, and as Kenji, Matt, and Giorgio cried out simultaneously, the pressure eased to bearable levels, then again, to the point where she wanted more. “Oh, shit!” Giorgio slid deeper inside her at the same time Matt eased back. “My turn.” As Giorgio withdrew, Matt moved forward, in a scorching trail of sensation that shot up her spine and blasted through her brain. Graceful would be the last word she’d use to describe the tangle of squirming limbs, the twisted mass of four bodies trying to balance on their sides as they arched and thrust and writhed against each other. Hot. That would be the first word that came to mind. Searing, blazing, sizzling, blinding sensation. She gasped when Matt stole the last inch of space inside her and curved his pelvis into the cheeks of her ass. When Giorgio cried out, she shivered at the impact of his hoarse protest. She didn’t know if he’d yelled because he’d drained off some of the sensation for her, claiming some of her pain for himself, or if Kenji was playing rougher than he’d expected. But Giorgio swelled inside her until he had to move in gentle nudges rather than swift strokes, so she guessed whatever was going on, he liked it. When the bread timer went off, Matt laughed and Kenji cursed, but Giorgio settled it with a sharp, “Stop now, and I’ll kill you.” Her sentiments exactly. Straining closer to Giorgio as Matt thrust inside her again, she felt their cocks brush through the thin walls of her flesh. Oh, goddess, if they kept this up, she was going to spontaneously combust. As Giorgio squirmed against her, Kenji grabbed her shoulder for leverage. Not graceful -- not by half -- but somehow, they all managed to stay connected. The bread timer chimed its reminder, and Lena realized their climb toward release would be marked at one-minute intervals. The scent of bread filled the room, and she could almost taste the warm, light texture on the back of her tongue. Giorgio thrust forward as Matt eased back, and claws of need tore through her belly. Kenji dug his fingers into her side, pulling her tight against the damp, salt-slick cloth of Giorgio’s shirt.

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The edgy, almost painful tightening around Matt’s balls served as her first hint she was falling out of her own body and into theirs. For a moment, she was Kenji -- felt him shiver, straining for control as he pressed deeper into the delicious embrace of Giorgio’s ass. Then she plummeted into Giorgio’s thoughts, felt his stomach clench up around the raging inferno inside him as he counted under his breath, trying hard not to get there ahead of the others. Which, ironically, was what sent Lena crashing over the edge -- melting under the combined impact of their passion, their affection, and their shared thoughts. “Now!” As the first spasms of her orgasm rocked through her, Matt drove deep, and Giorgio murmured something that sounded like a plea for mercy. The timer chimed again as she crested a second time, and the smell of burnt bread drifted over them. Her thighs tensed, and her legs cramped. Sweet goddess, she decided she might be melting. Just when she thought she might survive her second climax, Matt moaned her name, and a moment later, Kenji tangled his fists in her hair and pulled so hard she yelped in surprise. She couldn’t separate what happened next into distinct sensations. She came with them -- a bundle of fiery nerves -- panting as unfamiliar feelings ripped through her. At some point, the world went hazy purple and then black, but she never lost touch with Matt’s voice, crooning in her ear. She whimpered at the loss when Giorgio slid out of her, and she gasped when Matt tugged free of flesh that hadn’t quite accustomed itself to the intrusion. As Giorgio and Kenji stumbled to their feet to rescue the bread, Matt pulled her close and wrapped the corners of the damp tablecloth around her. His heart pounded against her back -- a reassuring thump, thump, thump -- and his breath came fast and ragged as he bent his neck to kiss her cheek. Smoke billowed out of the oven, and Kenji cursed as he dumped the ruined loaves in the sink. But Giorgio laughed. As wild as a mountain stream, he let laughter bubble through him as he pulled Kenji back down onto the nest of ruined cloth. In his laughter, Lena grasped for hope. Whatever happened tomorrow night, maybe there was a chance Kenji could walk away from it -- wounded, but alive. Fear tangled with hope, and somewhere within that dance, she settled back against Matt and gave herself to uncertainty. The smell of burnt bread, sex, pine, and apple orchards cradled her as she basked in the warmth of Matt’s body.

Matt. At some point, Giorgio and Kenji slid from her thoughts, wrapped up in their own connections, and Matt dominated her awareness. She didn’t protest when he lifted her and carried her to bed, or when he cleaned her with a warm, damp cloth before pulling the blankets up and crawling in beside her. She didn’t know what lay ahead, but for tonight, with the duel and all its uncertainty looming over them as dark and large as her childhood fears, she let him hold her. “Not only tonight, Lena-cat. We deserve a piece of forever.”

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Too tired to argue, she nestled against his body and closed her eyes.

***** As he watched the group of nine approaching from across the clearing in the dusky light, the hair at the back of Matt’s neck stood on end, and Sparrow bared his teeth and growled. Holding himself like a king walking onto the battlefield, Jaimis swept across the hardpacked earth, his black cape billowing behind him. Jagged barbs of light shot out around him, blue white and dangerous. If half the battle involved intimidation and showmanship, Jaimis already held the lead. Kenji, Sorren, and Gillian clustered together outside the ring of power. The place was steeped in the psychic debris of rituals Matt didn’t even want to imagine. During the drive from Minnesota to northern Wisconsin, he’d nursed his fury that Kenji was about to risk himself against Jaimis. But as soon as they arrived at the clearing, a ring of seared earth surrounded by dead trees, he understood why Lena didn’t oppose this duel. The earth bore stains of dried blood, and the aura of the place reeked of violent death. Matt wondered how many of Jaimis’s followers, swayed by his vision of being able to practice magic under protection of the law, had died here at the dark witch’s hand. The death magic tainting this place left an imprint so strong Matt had to fight the instinct to either bolt or strike out at Jaimis without delay. “Skyler.” Lena spoke so softly Matt wouldn’t have heard if he weren’t standing next to her. Jolted out of his thoughts, he looked up and studied Jaimis’s group more closely. Black mist swirled around them, but he could make out the tight leather halter, straight black hair, and garish red lipstick of the woman to Jaimis’s left. “She’s one of his seconds…” Lena’s voice cracked, and she knelt to press her face against the scruff of Sparrow’s neck. “Jaimis means for her to die here -- I’m sure of it -- as punishment for helping me escape. Her skills are weaker than mine, nowhere near what’s needed in a grand duel. We go back a long way, and I won’t watch her die in this circle.” Glancing across the space separating Sorren’s group from Jaimis’s, Matt shuddered. As the mist scuttled in a gust of air, he got a good look at Skyler’s spiked, thigh-high boots, her leather miniskirt, leather halter, and most distressingly, the broad leather collar around her neck. Jaimis held a braided cord that ran from his gloved hand to Sky’s collar. Fresh bruises covered Sky’s arms, and her left eye bore the marks of a half-healed shiner. Everything about Sky screamed “victim,” rather than willing participant, and though she’d never make his list of favorite people, bottom line was, she’d done right by Lena in the end when she helped her get the hell away from the dark witch.

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Matt caught Kenji’s eye, then inclined his head toward Skyler. Lena’s upset, and

whatever my feelings toward Skyler, I’m not inclined to watch Jaimis sacrifice a weak, captive witch in this duel. He withdrew quickly from his friend’s thoughts. Not like they got in each other’s heads much these days, since Lena and Giorgio came into the picture. And today of all days, Matt couldn’t face the intimacy of experiencing Kenji’s fears up close and personal. “Sorren?” Kenji touched the elder witch’s arm and gestured toward Sky. “I know. I’ll see what we can do.” Pulling his red cloak around him and using his wooden staff as a walking stick, Sorren stepped across the line of power into the circle. “Jaimis, I request a moment of your time before we begin.” As Jaimis walked away from the others to meet Sorren, Lena slipped over beside Kenji. “Sorren’s not going to be able to talk Jaimis out of using Sky as one of his seconds.” Kenji nodded his agreement. “He’ll expect us to focus our attack on her, as the weakest of our three opponents. Barring that, he’ll use any inclination toward mercy to his advantage.” “Shit. Just shit.” Matt kicked a stone in the direction of the darkened ring around the clearing, but it skittered away before crossing the line of power. Whatever Sorren and Jaimis had to say to each other, their words were too hushed to carry to where their seconds and referees stood waiting. Matt darted a nervous glance in the direction of Alec, who’d been careful to stay out of his way. The senator wore faded jeans and a leather jacket -- mirroring Matt’s own choice of battle gear. That his father must be equally uncomfortable in the summer heat was some small consolation. Matt couldn’t imagine what Sorren had in mind, allowing the senator to accompany them as one of the six referees. Whatever his level of power -- and Matt hadn’t spent enough time with the man to have a clue what he might be capable of as a witch -- having him here was a liability. Just a rich, powerful ass to keep out of trouble. Kenji broke away from his spot beside Gillian and walked over to Matt. They’d kept their distance this morning, figuring everything important had been said the night before. Anything else would risk a dive into the realm of fear and feelings.

Not going to go there. Matt nodded an acknowledgment of his friend’s presence and waited for him to say what was on his mind. “Don’t underestimate Alec. If anyone can get Skyler out of this mess, it’s him.” Kenji tilted his head, and in the guise of a kiss, whispered the rest. “Sorren and I will do our best to see that Sky walks out of the clearing after the duel. If she does, Alec’s going to get her the hell out of here. He can melt into the trees like no one else, and he’ll cover Sky’s presence along with his own.” Before Matt could respond, Kenji strode across the circle to stand by Gillian. Something tight and unpleasant twisted in Matt’s stomach, but he fought it down. He refused to spend

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one moment thinking about all the shit that could go down here this evening. He’d make sure no one interfered from the outside, and he’d be there for Lena if she got into a tight spot. No telling what kind of hell might break loose if Jaimis brought some of his thugs into the picture. Beyond that, nothing he could do would change whatever was about to take place on this tainted ground. “Sorren knew.” Lena tilted her head at the elder witch, who’d returned from his huddle with Jaimis and was busy tying his long, white hair into a tight braid. “He knew they’d bring Sky.” Not much he could say against that. Foresight was one of Sorren’s gifts, and Kenji had as much as admitted Sorren brought Alec along to spirit Sky away after the duel. Lena’s eyes flashed green fire as she watched Sorren strip off his cape and shirt, baring the tattoo of a dragon and hawk fighting on his right shoulder. “Yes.” No point in arguing with her. “Sorren had to have known. But maybe that means Skyler will manage to walk out of this somehow.” Poor reassurance, but as Lena stalked over to Giorgio, no doubt seeking someone who shared her outrage, Matt caught a flicker of motion in the trees across the clearing, and all other thoughts fled. “Kenji!” Drawing power around him, Matt motioned for Sparrow to walk the outline of the circle, and as one, the three contenders and six referees on their side stepped across the line of power. Melting out of the twilight shadows at the tree line, a small group of heavily armed men and women spread out around the clearing but stopped short of the circle. Kenji, Sorren, and Gillian moved to the center -- as did Jaimis, Sky, and the hulking man to Jaimis’s right -- and Matt motioned for the other five referees to spread out in a half circle. Jaimis’s bunch did the same. “I think I can calm them -- enough to ease back on any trigger-happy impulses, anyway.” Giorgio looked from Matt to the increasing numbers of paramilitary types congregating at the tree line. Torn, Matt nodded his assent to Giorgio, then glanced over his shoulder at the six duelists. Kenji had stripped down to his black jeans. His chest shone like soft cinnamon as the sun sank below the horizon, and he’d tied his hair back in a small, tight braid. Everything in Matt demanded he stand beside Kenji, and his stomach twisted at the fact that he couldn’t intervene. At the east point of the circle, Lena stood facing outward, her hair loose across the back of her black shirt and jeans. She stood rigid with tension as she stared down a bulky man with a camouflage jacket, khaki green face paint, and a machine gun. Giorgio had better be able to gentle these guys. The only explanation for their presence was that Jaimis intended to guarantee his people would be the only ones walking away from this circle. “North!” Sorren’s booming voice called the first point.

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“East!” Stripped down to his waist, Jaimis’s pale skin stood out against the backdrop of pines. He’d removed the leash from Skyler’s collar, but she still wore the thick strip of leather around her neck. “South!” Kenji’s voice held a world of confidence, but his eyes darted to Giorgio, then to Matt, and worry lined the crease of his brow. At least no one planned to waste time on fancy preliminaries. Whatever havoc was about to ensue, Matt would just as soon get it over with. “West.” Skyler said the word without enthusiasm, but the circle flared brilliant white around them nonetheless, arching upward to complete the sphere. The referees stood just inside the circle, and Sorren and Jaimis walked the circumference of a smaller space at the center, creating a barrier to protect the referees from magical fallout. Matt divided his attention between the soldier types milling around the tree line and Lena. But it made him half crazy that he couldn’t do anything to help Kenji.

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Chapter Twenty-Three Several of the paramilitary gang settled on the ground, some going so far as to lean back against fallen logs, their feet sprawled in front of them. Giorgio’s work. But some seemed resistant to the calming effect, and when a woman with flame red hair sighted her weapon at the back of Giorgio’s head, all hell broke loose. Wind whipped around the shimmering sphere, kicking up dust and rotting leaves. With a crack like a rifle shot, a branch broke and crashed down on the woman who’d been aiming her weapon at Giorgio. Lena raised her arms, and the roar of the wind increased. Inside the circle, her hair hung still and loose down her spine. But a few feet away, branches the size of a man’s leg blew around like twigs. Snarling like a hellhound, Sparrow crouched low and continued his circuit around the glowing sphere, lunging when any of Jaimis’s flunkies got too close. When Kenji screamed, it took everything Matt had not to run to him. The sound hovered on the air, eerie and piercing, until he thought it would never stop. When Matt risked taking his focus off the armed guards long enough to glance over his shoulder, the inner circle crackled with fierce yellow light. Whatever just happened, Kenji had managed to pull together a counterattack. A shot rang out, and one of Jaimis’s referees fell to the ground. Shit, these people weren’t smart enough to tell their master’s people from Sorren’s group and didn’t seem to care who they shot. With a sinking feeling, he realized they’d probably been testing whether bullets could penetrate the shield of energy. They could. And now the guys with guns knew that. Raising power so fast his teeth ached, Matt summoned a storm, complete with jagged forks of lightning. A man wearing a denim jacket howled as a bolt severed a branch over his

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head. Seconds later, lightning struck the base of a tree, taking out the three who’d huddled beneath the branches. Swallowing hard, Matt tried not to think about what it would be like to die in a flash of burning energy -- or the fact that he was responsible the deaths. When a volley of gunfire rang out across the clearing, he dropped to his knees, hardly breathing until he saw Lena crouching low, uninjured. Alec clutched a bloody spot on his arm, and another of Jaimis’s referees, an auburn-haired woman in faded jeans, lay in a spreading puddle of blood. Holy goddess, random lightning strikes were no match for an armed militia. Nor was Giorgio’s gift of gentling. And Alec’s skill at camouflage wouldn’t do them a damn bit of good at the moment. When one of the khaki-clad women launched into the air and slammed into a tree, it took him a moment to figure out what in hell had happened.

What in hell. Not a bad guess. Lena’s own private hell. As another man followed, howling as he cartwheeled through the air and landed in a crumpled heap in a ditch, Matt fought the urge to be sick. Earlier she’d called the wind to tumble branches and frighten people off -- a weather-working trick she’d picked up when they’d shared magics -- but this assault was all her own. As Lena continued to toss branches and rocks through the air, Matt flashed back to the wreckage of Kenji’s cabin after the psychic storm she’d unleashed there. He didn’t know if she’d chosen this -- the deaths of those standing outside the circle to protect the lives of those inside -- or if the show of force represented an involuntary reaction to extreme stress. Lena’s shields were so thick, he could only guess what she was feeling right now, but he had no doubt it involved a lot of anguish. She’d killed. With or without intent wouldn’t matter to her. In her own mind, he suspected she’d proven she was what she’d claimed all along. Something dark and unwholesome. Something evil. The bloodcurdling screech from the center of the circle tore his attention away from where Lena knelt with her head between her hands. Sorren sank to his knees, black fire crackling from the staff he grasped over his head. Before him, Kenji lay sprawled on the dry earth, blood gushing from a wound on his side. Matt tried to swallow, but his mouth felt parched. Kenji remained horribly still, and Sorren held off further attack with a shield of black flames. Gillian scampered close, keeping behind Sorren’s shield, and pressed her hands over Kenji’s wounds, calling her healing power. Matt did a quick survey of threats to his fallen friend. Sky crouched low with her hands pressed to her mouth, watching magic sizzle around her without launching a single spell. Jaimis’s other second lashed out with volleys of crimson light, but for the most part his magic missed its mark. If Kenji could survive his wound -- Matt’s vision clouded at the thought that he might not -- then Jaimis presented the greatest danger. Creeping as close as he could get to Kenji without entering the inner sphere, Giorgio howled -- a frantic, half-gasping, grief-laden sound -- and Matt would have given anything

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for him to stop. When Jaimis pierced Sorren’s shield with a bolt of blue light, he and Gillian darted a few paces to the east, away from Kenji. Again, Jaimis raised his arm, and Matt screamed -- a guttural howl of terror, fury, and unchecked panic. As a barrage of silver-blue darts rained down around Kenji, the fallen witch shuddered, curled his legs to his chest, and rolled to the side. Oh, goddess, he was alive. But with Jaimis hurling everything but hell itself at him, the only defense Kenji could seem to manage was a wavering yellow shield. Sorren managed to get in a couple of strikes while Jaimis directed his attack at Kenji, sending a volley of dark bolts in Jaimis’s direction. While Jaimis focused on defensive maneuvers, Kenji staggered to his feet and raised his arms, blood dripping down his side. He raised his hand, tracing the intricate pattern of a spell, and with a shimmer of mist, a fiery yellow sword appeared in his hand. The magic held the weight of Kenji’s intent -heavier than the growing dusk. Matt shuddered that it had come to this, summoning death magic so others might live. If Kenji survived, he’d hold that slash of darkness inside him, a painful remnant of this night. When his friend hesitated, Matt clenched his hands into fists and yelled. “Do it, Kenji! Do it now!” With Jaimis rounding on him for another blow, this would be a life-and-death move. In a flash of light, Kenji brought the sword down and drove it into the chest of the third witch on Jaimis’s side. The muscular man howled and stumbled to his knees, brown hair swirling around his face as he moved. With a cry that echoed through the trees -- closer to howling, searing grief than a victory yell -- Kenji pulled the blade free and watched the man fall to his back. Skyler stood sobbing as she stared at the fallen witch, her black hair streaming out behind her in the wind. But what transfixed Matt was the horror on Kenji’s face as he stood over the body, the translucent sword still clasped in his hands. Blood covered Kenji’s arms and sides, but not all of it his own. The chest of the dead man gaped open, blackened at the edges of the wound where the scorching brand of Kenji’s power had ripped through his flesh. In a flash of light, Kenji’s sword vanished, and he knelt to feel for a pulse. Sorren dug his staff into the blood-stained soil. “It’s over, Jaimis. To the first death.” A wave of silver fire leaped from Jaimis’s upraised hands, and as the spell swept across Gillian, she uttered a plaintive wail. Sorren caught her when she fell, raised her pale body in his arms, and howled his outrage. Before Sorren could retaliate, the dark witch vanished. Not sped away, not cloaked himself in mist. Vanished. And with his disappearance, the shimmering sphere around the inner circle dispersed as well. Moving so fast Matt could hardly follow his strides, Alec crossed to where Skyler crouched close to the ground, swept her into his arms, and faded into the mist swirling across the churned soil. Choking back a

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wave of nausea, Matt absorbed the fact that his father must come close to matching the dark witch in power. Hell of a legacy to pass on to his reluctant son. Some remnant of survival instinct forced Matt to scan the perimeter for lingering thugs, but only broken bodies lay on the bloody earth. The duel over, echoes of Lena, Kenji, and Giorgio’s combined horror crashed across Matt’s senses. And grief. As Kenji bowed his head over Gillian’s ash white form, his grief all but toppled Matt to the ground. Sorren wept as he smoothed his palm across Gillian’s face to close her eyes. Giorgio went to Kenji and crouched beside him, murmuring something unintelligible. Across the circle, Lena stood gazing outward at the crumpled bodies of Jaimis’s soldiers. Tonight, they’d checked Jaimis’s momentum -- shown him they were worthy opponents, if nothing else. But what had been lost… Shaking his head, Matt took a halting step in Lena’s direction. But he felt her draw inward, twisting away when he touched her thoughts, not yet ready to accept comfort. As Sorren wrapped Gillian’s body in his cape and carried her from the circle, Giorgio raised his arms and summoned eerie, smokeless flames to consume the fallen form of Jaimis’s second. Dirt and blood smudged Giorgio’s face, and strands of hair clung to his sweaty forehead. Tears stained his cheeks, reflected in the unearthly glow of the fire. Sorren laid Gillian’s limp form outside the circle and went to tend to Kenji, who sat with his arms curled around his legs and his head on his knees. Bracing himself for the grim task, Matt left Lena to her thoughts and headed to the tree line to start dragging the bodies of Jaimis’s soldiers to the center of the death-soaked circle.

***** Though it was still dark, birdcalls heralded the approach of sunrise, Lena buried her face in the soft fur of Sparrow’s neck, all too aware that though she was safe in one of the extravagantly furnished guest rooms in Sorren’s main house, Gillian was dead. And several humans wouldn’t wake to greet the dawn today -- because of her. The dog licked her cheek and whimpered, curling closer in the tangle of blankets. She wanted to check on Kenji, but couldn’t quite face seeing anyone yet. He’d been sleeping when she left his room last night, and Sorren’s physicians -- not to mention Giorgio -- would be keeping watch by his bedside. The doctors assured them Gillian had healed the worst of Kenji’s wounds before her death, and all he needed was time to recuperate. Half wishing she hadn’t insisted Matt find his own room in Sorren’s mansion, she twined her fingers in the thick fur covering Sparrow’s back. Gillian’s grandchildren and daughter would arrive soon. They planned to hold the memorial in the gardens tomorrow

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evening, then bury her in the quiet of the woods. Sorren grieved so hard for his friend that the last threads of Lena’s distrust melted away in the face of his vulnerability. But she couldn’t stay. Tomorrow, it should be easy enough to slip away during the confusion of the funeral preparations. She wished with all her heart that Serena would come with her. All Lena wanted was to find an isolated spot and build something resembling a normal life. But after a fierce argument, she’d accepted her sister’s insistence that she belonged here, with her new friends. As for Matt, her memories of him would remain as sweet as the scent of cinnamon and flour, of sweat and baking bread. The bond forged between her and the three men would always be part of her. But she, Kenji, and Matt had killed in the death-steeped circle last night. Every time they looked at each other, they’d be reminded of the horror. She’d see her darkest nature reflected in their eyes. When she’d freed the ferocious energy massed within her, she’d meant to protect Matt, Giorgio, and Kenji. Not to kill. Never to kill. Now she needed to be alone with the crushing weight of what she’d done. Breathing in the smell of Sparrow’s fur, she willed her thoughts to clear, like a midnight lake empty of images. Dreams slid through her mind in an unremarkable sequence, followed by black stretches as deep and dark as ocean fog at midnight. When her mother tugged her into a field of strawberries, the move was so abrupt she didn’t have time to be frightened. She hadn’t bothered to guard her dreams since the day her mother had slipped into unconsciousness, before the Wisconsin rite. Now, she stood barefoot between rows of emerald leaves and ruby red fruit, breathing in the soft air of morning as her mother filled a basket with berries. Shivering as the dewcovered plants brushed against her feet, she moved toward her mother. She recognized the place, though she hadn’t been here since she was six. They’d been traveling, and when they spent the night at a friend’s farm, her mother crept into her room at dawn. Bundling Lena into her clothes, she grabbed a basket and led her through the strawberry fields. The field was the same, but her mother’s face looked pale and tired. Her hair trailed down her back in pale wisps, clinging to her green blouse. Slowly, Lena picked up an empty basket and knelt to pinch the stem of a ripe berry. Over the years, her mother had tugged her into her dreams too many times to count -but always into her nightmares. To the backyard -- green grass covered in blood -- where a pale-haired man lay stretched out like a side of meat on the lawn. Or further back in time, to William’s ferocious attack and her mother’s pain and crippling panic. The stuff of horror movies. Nothing serene and calm like this scene of dewy plants and the blush of dawn on the field. Her mother touched her elbow, and Lena looked up into sad, cloudy blue eyes. She wore a wide-brimmed hat, and when she held out her hand, she offered Lena a plump berry.

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As Lena cupped the fruit on her palm, her mother slipped the wedding band of Celtic knots off her ring finger and handed it to her. With a bittersweet smile, she touched Lena’s forehead with two fingers and then drew a circle in the air, her aura clear and bright as she closed the spell and vanished in a shower of emerald green rain. When Lena jerked awake, her knee struck flesh rather than fur, and she cried out. Struggling free of the blankets, she fought for breath in the damp, early morning air. “Shh. It’s me.” Matt touched her cheek and scooted to the end of the bed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep alone -- not after what happened.” The grisly sights and sounds of the duel crashed back over her, buffered by the morning calls of finches and the scent of strawberries and damp earth. Opening her hand, Lena stared at the red berry, still damp with moisture, and the woven silver knots of her mother’s wedding band. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she slid the band onto the ring finger of her right hand. “My mother died this morning.” And helped me keep her promise to see her into the next world. With her last spell, her mother had set her free. After all those tortured dreams, she’d left her daughter in a field of strawberries, with the gift of a ring and a blessing. Matt opened his mouth to speak, but Lena put two fingers against his lips and dropped the strawberry onto his outstretched hand. Sparrow barked when she left the room to find Serena, but Matt didn’t try to follow.

***** Wincing as the drawstring of his pajama bottoms tugged at his injured side, Kenji cursed under his breath. This late at night, he should be in bed, with Giorgio curled against his back and his body mending itself as he slept. Not trailing a witch intent on leaving everyone who mattered most to her. As Lena made her way through the labyrinth of hallways riddling Sorren’s home, he followed silently, biting his lip as each step sent licks of pain from his hip up to his arm. Throughout her mother’s memorial and Gillian’s funeral, something wild and trapped had shifted across Lena’s face. Kenji knew how she felt. He’d give anything to escape the bitter mark of what he’d wrought during the duel. But running away wouldn’t heal the hurts she carried. Cursing under his breath as he navigated the stairs, he watched her approach the front entryway. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he tried to catch up with her. He could cast a spell to jam the lock if he had to, but he didn’t think Sorren would appreciate having to replace it. “Please, Lena. We need to talk.” She spun to face him, then hesitated, indecisive, with her heavy pack draped across her shoulders. Moonlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows turned her hair into a waterfall of

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light down her back, pale gold against the surrounding darkness. Kenji took advantage of her surprise to close the distance between them. “Look, in a movie, this would probably be the point where you disappear into the night, and Matt spends the next few weeks searching for you. But let’s play it my way and cut the crap.” That hadn’t come out how he’d planned, but his ribs hurt like hell, and he wanted to end this and get back to bed. Lena made a disapproving noise, shifted the backpack off her shoulders, and set it on the floor beside her. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Good, she was worried. He wasn’t above using that. “Damn right. But I’ll save Matt a hell of a lot of trouble if I can sort this out here and now.” When he slumped against the wall, the soft grunt that escaped his lips had nothing to do with playing on Lena’s sympathies. With a concerned sound, she backtracked and reached out to touch his elbow. “Here, take my arm. You need to get back to bed.” Clenching his fists by his sides, Kenji shook his head hard enough that his curls swept across his shoulders. Lena moved gracefully in the silver light of the moon as she bent to check his bandages. “I’m not bleeding again, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I guarantee Matt’s going to flay me alive if I let you walk out of here tonight.” “Matt knows why I’m leaving.” Okay, here went nothing. His one shot to prevent a lot of misery on everyone’s part. “Matt would tear his heart out and hand it to you if he thought it would make you stay. He’s yours, Lena. You’ve given him everything I never would’ve been able to offer.” “Matt’s not a gift to be given.” Her voice crackled with temper, and blue light arched around her like a storm. “His heart’s his own. I only meant he’s chosen you. I didn’t think I could handle that, when you crashed into our lives like some sort of hell-bent meteorite. But you’re an easy person to love, Lena-cat.” Shifting uneasily, she shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but he pressed a finger against her lips. “Just accept that for what it’s worth.” He paused to take a few careful breaths, wincing when the expansion of his chest tugged at his half-healed wounds. “I would have died if Gillian hadn’t healed me, Lena. Instead, she died. Nothing can change that. But I can stop you from heading out there to feed yourself to Jaimis and his wolves. This isn’t finished. You know that as well as I do.” As Lena’s eyes clouded, Kenji pressed his advantage. “Sky’s still out there somewhere. Alec, too, and he’s injured. Jaimis will track them down if we don’t find them first. Sooner or later, he’ll come after Sorren. And me. And you.” He paused for effect. “And Matt.”

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“No!” Her brow lined with worry, Lena shook her head, her hair swishing across the leather jacket she’d never gotten around to returning to Matt. “Not Matt -- never.”

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Chapter Twenty-Four Lena’s eyes shone with fear, and damn it, Kenji wasn’t above using that, either. “Don’t make Matt play hero, running after you. He’ll be half out of his mind if you leave, focused on nothing but finding you. Easy prey for Jaimis.” His stomach roiled at the thought. The power of his argument lay in its truth, and that thought left him cold and shaken. “I killed a man in that circle. I have nightmares about the look on his face as he died. But I know if I had to make the same choice again, and a death was the only thing that could hold Jaimis at bay -- corral the evil until we’re strong enough to defeat him -- I’d do it all over.” Lena’s breath escaped in a whoosh, and she bowed her head. “That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?” He suspected he had it right, because this was what was eating him in the dark hours of the night. “Not that you killed, but that if the choice was either Matt’s life, or Giorgio’s, or mine, or even Sorren’s, and you had to kill to defend us, you’d do it again. The problem’s not that you can’t live with it, but that you can.” Lena choked back a sob, and he figured he’d hit it about right. She might hate him for this, but he was determined to make her face the truth and move on. “Congratulations, little witch, because more than anything else, that makes you pretty much the same as any human. Protective of those you love, conscience-ridden, and capable of fighting when your back’s against the wall.” Soft red light flooded the room as Giorgio sprinted down the stairs, balancing a glow sphere on his palm. “What are you doing out of bed? Your bandage is streaked with blood.” Lena stepped aside as Giorgio knelt to press his hand against the gauze taped to Kenji’s side. Placing a reassuring hand on the back of Giorgio’s neck, Kenji maintained eye contact with Lena.

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“Go talk to Matt. Hear what he has to say. And one more thing.” Kenji grabbed her wrist as she turned to retrieve the abandoned backpack. “On your way back upstairs, ask yourself why you’re wearing Matt’s old leather jacket when it’s hot enough to melt wax tonight.” She murmured something under her breath as she stalked across the room. As Giorgio helped him toward the stairs, Kenji hoped he hadn’t just made things worse.

***** Her heart pounding, Lena eased open the door to Matt’s room. He’d been hurt when she’d insisted on having her own space. But although she’d stayed up at the main house to keep an eye on Kenji, sleeping beside Matt would have made it harder to leave. Kindling the smallest hint of a glow sphere, she held out her hand and studied his naked form sprawled across the sheets. The blue glow mixed with moonlight, highlighting the angles of his arms, the slight curve of his ass, the muscles that rippled across his back when he shifted in his sleep. A mass of tangled curls fell across his face, and it was all she could do not to move further into the room, shift his tousled hair aside, and kiss his cheek. But everything had a price, and she’d taken five lives in that dark circle. She’d been frightened for those she cared about, and when her power rose with wild, unchecked madness, rather than struggling to control the fury, she’d let it sear through her. If there was a price to be paid for what she’d done, wasn’t it best to put as much distance as possible between her and those she loved? Blinking back tears, she imagined what it would be like to run her fingers along Matt’s spine. She half hoped he’d wake so she could say good-bye, but his breathing remained slow and even, and his hands clasped and unclasped around a fistful of sheets. Turning away, she eased the door closed and hurried down the hall. The balcony and trellises outside Sorren’s study would make it easy enough to bypass Kenji’s interference. As she hurried into the study, avoiding glass shelves stacked with ancient texts and artifacts, her thoughts taunted her. Did she really believe some calamity would befall her for what had happened during the duel, dragging those she loved down with her? Or was she more frightened of seeing the horror of what she’d done reflected in Matt’s eyes when he looked at her? As she threw open the door to the balcony, the smell of night-blooming flowers hung heavy on the wind. Everything Kenji had said tumbled through her mind as she stood looking out into the night, and her heart felt heavy with doubt. Although she knew the risk of someone finding her increased the longer she stayed here, she couldn’t force herself to leave. Not yet. Minutes crept by, until she couldn’t say how long she’d hovered at the threshold, listening to the sound of crickets and the wind rustling through the trees.

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Lena shouted when someone grabbed her hair, knotting a fist at the nape of her neck and jostling the backpack she’d slung over her left shoulder. Kicking out instinctively, her boot connected with a bare shin, and Matt yelped in surprise. Rather than release her, he knotted her hair even tighter around his fist and pressed his mouth so hard against hers their teeth collided. When his tongue slipped past her lips, she tasted apples and cinnamon bread. With the image of her and the three men flour covered and sweat drenched on the kitchen floor pounding through her brain, she couldn’t make herself move away. He’d pulled on silk boxer shorts before leaving his room, and her fingers traced the textured waistband as she embraced him. His arm tucked around her waist, Matt closed the door to the balcony and guided her out of Sorren’s study and back to his room. “Kenji woke me. He thought he might have pissed you off when he talked to you.” “His wound was bleeding. Is he…?” “Giorgio dragged him back to bed and called the nurse to check him over.” Navigating the doorway so fast he stubbed his toe on the doorframe, he led her to the bed, tugged her backpack free and tossed it on the floor, and pulled her onto his lap. “You know, it would be a hell of a lot easier on all of us if you’d let go of the idea that you have to leave.” Matt formed a violet glow sphere and tipped it into the bowl of scented oil by the bed. The windows were open to the night breeze, but Sorren’s estate was secluded enough that they didn’t need blackout shades to hide their magic. He tugged off the leather jacket she couldn’t bear to part with, and she sagged against him. As she tried to come up with a coherent explanation for why she had to go -increasingly uncertain herself -- he stripped off her shirt and pants, then unclasped her bra and leaned down to kiss the curve of her breast. He slid her panties free of her feet before she caught her breath, and when she opened her mouth to protest, he eased her onto her back and straddled her hips. All that separated them was the thin, warm silk of his boxers. “Was the goddess angry, little witch? When all hell broke loose in that circle, did you feel her wrath?” Since Matt didn’t seem particularly religious, just about nothing he could have said would’ve surprised her more. She took a minute to process the question before answering. “I felt her tears like feathers on my skin. Not angry so much as terribly sad.” “Then why are you so certain you’ll be punished for your part in what happened that night?” She tried to sit up, but he clasped his thighs around her hips and held her pinned beneath him.

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“I wasn’t looking for an answer,” Matt replied. “Just remember that my magic killed too. I didn’t guide the lightning, but I summoned the storm. And what about Kenji? Would you abandon him because of the choice he made in that forsaken circle?” She shook her head so vehemently her hair lashed across Matt’s bare chest. “No.” She could accept Matt’s and Kenji’s parts in what happened, but facing her own role in the bloody chain of events sent something deep inside her into a wailing frenzy. Easing his fingers across her face, Matt smoothed her hair away and bent down to kiss her forehead. “Know this, little witch. If there’s a price to be paid for what we’ve done, we’ll pay it together. You don’t see Giorgio trying to slink off and hide because he fears the consequences of our actions. You’re not a coward, Lena. Stay with me and see this through.” From the damp, aching need tugging at her senses, she suspected she’d stay the night, if nothing else. Wriggling out from under where he straddled her hips, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, intending to close the bedroom door. They’d left it open an inch or two, and whatever happened next would require privacy. But he tackled her before her feet hit the floor, scooping her up and depositing her on her back in the center of the bed. He shoved his boxers down past his hips, kicked free of the pool of silk, and covered her with his full weight. When she didn’t struggle, he eased up on his elbows and bent down to tease his lips across hers. Sliding her hands over the knotted muscles of his neck and shoulders, Lena drifted in a haze of summer orchards and shadowy forests. She lifted her head to deliver a series of love bites along the graceful arch between his neck and shoulder, and his skin twitched under her mouth. Pressing harder, she let her teeth sink in until he groaned, the salt of his skin coursing through her like a drug. “No more. You’ll break the skin.” He slid his finger between her teeth and freed himself from the bite, and she sucked hungrily, sliding her mouth down until his knuckle brushed against the roof of her mouth. His hair fell across her face like soft, brown rain, warm and smelling of pine forests, as he nibbled his way up her neck to her mouth. His kiss scalded her, and she cried out as he slid his tongue between her lips to gain entry. Running her hands over the strength of his back, she held on as if he was the only thing keeping her from floating off into space. Goddess, how could she even think about leaving him? “Don’t.” Lifting his head, he caressed strands of hair away from her face and frowned. “Don’t even try to think. No dark thoughts. No thoughts at all.” She’d fought being sucked into the most deeply guarded depths of his mind for so long that the moment she gave up the battle, it hit her with the force of an avalanche. Red-hot pain at the thought of her departure. Fierce protectiveness. Blinding need. And love so deep she gasped for air as she went under, drowning in the midnight depths.

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“I -- please --” Panting for air, she tried to pull back, but what she’d surrendered couldn’t be reclaimed. His thoughts filled her mind, writhing through her head in a succession of erotic images so graphic they made her blush. Matt invading her ass with his tongue. Her slipping her fingers into his ass as he plunged inside her. Her bound spread-eagle on the bed. Matt bound in the same fashion as she sheathed him with her drenched pussy. A series of cum cries so intense, they ripped through her with the force of an explosion. “Please, too much -- drowning.” As if she’d flipped a switch, the normal barriers of “him” and “her” slipped into place, and they were separate beings again, rather than one organism twisted together in a succession of images and emotions. “Shh. I’m sorry. I’ll shield my thoughts. I never should have shared so much, with the way I’m feeling right now.” He cupped her breast in his palm and bent to suck her nipple, his mouth so gentle on her skin, she sighed and felt her body turn liquid under the touch. “Those things you were thinking --” He lifted his face and met her eyes, the soft light of the glow sphere shading the amber brown of his eyes with eerie violet highlights. “You turn me into a wild man, little witch, but they’re just thoughts.” “You and Kenji…?” Did she really want the answer to that? The thought of Matt bound to the bed while the more powerful witch did goddess knew what to him left her shaken -but also more than a little aroused. “Have done lots of things I’m guessing you wouldn’t like. If you need the details, we can have that talk sometime.” He shook his head, and his forehead creased with concern. “You know what I’d like more than anything?” His erection pressed firm against her thigh, and she felt like she’d melt into a puddle of wax if they didn’t have sex soon. But if he wanted something she wasn’t willing to give, she’d best find out now. “What?” “To date you.” Unbidden, a ripple of laughter bubbled up from her belly and spilled out her mouth. “You mean like movies and dinner? Awkward small talk and long silences?” “I mean start at the beginning -- fill in all the bits we didn’t cover when our lives exploded around us and we fell so fucking hard for each other there was no room for air, or thought, or reason.” That brought tears to her eyes, and she reached up to cup her palm against his cheek. “I don’t think we get to go back, but maybe…”

Maybe if I stay, we can work on filling in some of the gaps? Like learning to merge our thoughts without drowning in an orgy of images and unfettered emotions? It wasn’t fair to

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make promises she couldn’t keep, so she settled for arching her hips against him until he let out a long, hungry sigh. “For tonight, can we be together?” “Be together?” Amusement rippled beneath the surface, but he had the grace not to laugh. “Make love to me, Matt.” For a few heartbeats, he held absolutely still, and the sound of his hurried breathing filled the room. When she thought she’d have to either repeat the question or make the first move, he slid his hands along her sides, traced the fringe of curls at the crease of her thighs, and nudged her legs open with his knees. She thought he planned to enter her, and since she could feel her own moisture dripping past her thighs, she arched to accommodate him. But he pressed her back to the mattress and slid the damp folds of her flesh apart with his fingers. Sliding his length along the slick crevice, he eased across the surface, back and forth, back and forth, caressing her clit with his shaft. The sensation was smoother than being touched by his hand, as warm and soft as velvet. When he repeated the motion, she shivered at the slick, wet noises of his cock gliding between her legs, teasing her until she had to grit her teeth not to beg him to come inside her. “Patience, little witch.” His voice sounded low and husky, and as he continued the tantalizing movements, he held her face between his hands. Aching for deeper contact, she reached between their bodies and pressed the lips of her sex around him, creating a smooth channel as he eased back and forth across the swollen knot of her clit. When she pressed hard against the rigid weight of him, he reached down and captured her hands, drawing them up over her head. “You don’t like this?” Moving oh so slowly, he dragged his length across the wet, pulsing warmth of her sex, rolling his weight to increase the pressure. “I like it too much.” As blinding need scorched through her senses, she shivered, and her body clenched tight against her impending release. “I want you inside me.” “Mmm.” He drew himself over the surface of her wet, swollen flesh once more, chuckling when she tossed her head on the pillow and struggled against his hold on her wrists. “And I will be -- the second time you come.” She struggled harder. Her body needed something to wrap itself around, and since he refused to enter her, the pressure of his grip on her wrists would have to do. With each stroke, each liquid caress, she made a small crooning sound. That he could bring her to the edge so easily, without so much as a hint of penetration, without his fingers playing across her skin, without the touch of his mouth between her thighs, left her shaken and confused.

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But her body knew what it wanted, and with each delicious movement as he eased himself back and forth across her damp, swollen flesh without entering, her desire coiled tighter, a silver river winding through her senses. “No!” As the cry ripped from her throat, her body clenched and released around emptiness, and she felt hollow, lost. He released her hands and hugged her tight against him, cradling her in his arms as her climax left her wrung out and horribly empty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be like that.” His face was wet when he pressed the stubble-rough surface of his cheek against her neck. As tension eased out of her lower back and he shifted his weight to the side, his hip pressing against her thigh, she shook her head. She supposed she should reassure him that it was okay, coming so hard without him inside her, but she felt spent and lonely. If any reassurance was going to happen tonight, it would have to come from him. “I’m not going to find the right words, so let’s try this.” Rolling onto his back, he pulled her on top of him and snaked one arm across her shoulders, the hair on his chest brushing against the peaks of her nipples. When he eased the other hand between her legs, she shook her head, swishing her sweat-damp hair across his face and chest. But rather than withdrawing, he eased two fingers inside her, warm and solid, and stroked forward against her pelvic bone until he found the spot that made her dissolve into an insane puddle of lust. “You’re cheating.” “Yeah, but when you’re ready, we’ll do it right this time. All the way, with my cock stretching you so tight you’ll scream.”

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Chapter Twenty-Five Now. She was ready now. But telling him that would not only give the impression she could be cajoled out of a dark mood with sex -- it would stroke his ego. He’d already seen how easily he could make her come, and… “It’s not a contest, little witch. We rub our bodies together in ways that make us feel good, share our love, and if it works right, no one ends up sad or defensive.” “Do you really slip inside my thoughts so easily?” At the word “inside,” he slid his fingers as deep as they’d go, a not-so-subtle reminder that he had something other than conversation in mind. When she shoved his hand away, he acquiesced, but as soon as he withdrew his fingers she felt hollow and lost and regretted her decision. “You don’t even try to keep me out of your head. You’re afraid to know what I’m thinking, but you don’t seem to mind sharing what’s going on in your thoughts.” Bless it, he was right, but trying to figure out why would take way more selfexploration than she was willing to undergo at the moment. “No big mystery. You don’t want me to see how frightened, how conflicted you are. What you’re afraid of is that I’m not. I know what I want.” He leaned down to nip the side of her neck, and she leaned into the sting of the bite. “I want you in my life and in my bed. No ambiguity, no second thoughts, no regrets.” “Not even Kenji?” “Strangely enough, no. Having Giorgio on the scene makes this easier. It would have killed me to hurt Kenji. But even if the whole thing had been an awful jealous mess, you’re the one I want. Is it so awful being loved by me?”

No. At this moment she couldn’t think of anything more horrifying than loving him any more than she did right now -- and then losing him.

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“So you leave -- take the smaller pain now to avoid the bigger hurt later.” Anger lashed through his words, and he gripped her arms hard enough that she cried out and wriggled off him. He caught her before she reached the edge of the bed, flipped her onto her back, and straddled her hips. “I’m not afraid, little witch. And if I’ve learned anything about you this week, it’s that you’re not a coward. Don’t run from me, damn it!” With a pang, she realized that was exactly what she was doing. At some point, she’d abandoned the idea she wasn’t good enough for him. But love never worked right for her, and she didn’t want to be around when things went wrong. Her heart pounded, and her mouth tasted like dried leaves. When she tried to focus on her surroundings -- rather than the steady beat of Matt’s heart against her chest -- she registered the barrage of sounds and lights. Footsteps raced down the length of the hall, and a multicolored riot of glow spheres shone through the space where the door hung open a couple inches. “What’s happening?” Struggling against his weight, she tried to sit up. “Short of Jaimis having gotten through Sorren’s wards, which is damn near impossible, whatever is going on can sort itself out without us.” Matt sounded stressed, almost irritable, but he softened his words with a kiss. “We need to fix this, because I don’t intend to get out of this bed until things are right between us.” She gasped in surprise when he tilted her onto her side, lifted her leg across his hip, and pressed the head of his cock against her. “Yes?” The noise subsided to a continuous murmur of voices drifting up from the great room, and no more rainbows cascaded through the gap between the door and the wall. Whatever crisis had pulled a dozen witches from their beds seemed to be under control. In the meantime, she craved Matt like the rich taste of chocolate on her tongue and the giddy exaltation of greeting the dawn, all wrapped into one. “Yes.” She shimmied closer and reached down to guide his shaft home. With one fluid movement, he buried himself, and her breath escaped in a gasp when their pelvic bones rocked together hard enough to bruise. He eased back and slipped into an easy rhythm, stretching and retreating and pressing forward again before she had a chance to feel abandoned. He cupped one hand over the curve of her ass, tugging her body against his as he rocked her with his thrusts. When she whimpered and closed her eyes, he tickled his fingers across her breasts, pausing to roll and stretch her nipples, toying with the tight flesh until she cried out. The smell of salt and musky sex drowned out the scent of pine and orchards she’d come to associate with Matt, and she reached out to trace the outline of his face. His lashes tickled

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the pads of her fingers, and the slopes of his cheekbones were rough with stubble. When she traced his lips, he gobbled up her fingers, first sucking, then nipping hard enough that she yelped in surprise. Shifting her hands to his hair, she tangled her fists in his wild curls. Though she suspected she tugged too hard, he didn’t complain. What had been a comfortable fit was quickly becoming a struggle to accommodate him as her body clenched around the slick length. As he stretched her, she uttered small, animal noises, and he touched her face to calm her. When the door banged open, battle-weary instincts kicked into high gear. She rolled free of him and summoned a thread of power so fast Matt let out a startled yell. “Sorry.” Feeling sheepish, she released the energy she’d summoned and waited for Giorgio to explain why he’d barged in on them. Her skin stung from the abrupt withdrawal, and she hoped she hadn’t hurt Matt. With a soothing noise, Matt dismissed her concerns and helped her wrap the damp blankets around her chest. “This better be good, Giorgio.” Breathing hard, though she wasn’t sure if it was from his sprint up the stairs or from what he’d walked in on, Giorgio approached and sank down onto the end of the bed. “Kenji sent me up to warn you. Lena can’t leave. I know you were planning to let her run if she was determined to go, to give her a bit of space before you went after her, but Jaimis got to Alec and Sky.” Fear seared through her like a hot wind. Even the series of punishing lashes Sky had delivered to Lena’s bare flesh couldn’t erase her attachment to her former roommate and long-ago lover. “It’s okay. They’re here. The doctor sedated them, and he’s cleaning up the mess. Jaimis” -- Giorgio shuddered -- “he worked them over with a whip. Some of the cuts are deep enough to need stitches. He peeled their backs raw, but they’ll mend.” The note of uncertainty in Giorgio’s voice revealed something that wasn’t quite a lie, but not quite the truth, either. Lena forced back the image of Jaimis standing beside the bed, tracing his fingers across her breast as she strained against her bonds. “He raped them? Tampered with their memories?” Looking far older than his years, Giorgio nodded. “But Alec was too strong for Jaimis to fuck with his memory. He told Sorren everything that happened before they sedated him to start stitching up the deepest wounds. Skyler -- she lost some of the specifics. There are big holes in what she remembers -- but maybe that’s for the best.” Shivering so hard goose bumps sprang up across the backs of her arms, Lena shook her head and leaned forward to rest her face on Giorgio’s shoulder. “Taking her memory is the

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bigger invasion -- even worse than taking her body. When he captured me, he threatened to wipe out the traces of what he planned to do to me so only the physical marks would be left.” Her heart pounded so fast she felt dizzy, and Matt moved forward to cradle her back against his chest. She couldn’t leave now. Whatever she would have decided -- go or stay -didn’t matter anymore. She’d felt Alec’s power at the duel. If Jaimis could track down a witch that strong and torture him, she’d be a fool to leave the safety of Sorren’s wards. Matt pressed his face close to her ear. “I didn’t want it to be like this. I wanted you to have the choice -- needed to know if you’d choose me.” Turning to Giorgio, he let out a heavy sigh. “Is there anything we can do for them tonight?” “No, the doctor said they’ll sleep until morning.” Matt nodded, and his hair brushed Lena’s knee where she’d drawn her legs up close to her chest. Tension flowed off him in waves, and she didn’t know how to comfort him when she was sick to death over what had happened to Sky. What must it be like hearing all this about his father? “I’m sorry, Matt.” His eyes sad in the violet light, Giorgio touched Matt’s arm. “I know you’re not close, but he’s still your dad. I’d have waited until morning to tell you, but we needed to be sure Lena wouldn’t leave.” “How’d they get away?” Matt clenched and unclenched his hands on the wet tangle of blankets. “Jaimis let his guard down when he…” Giorgio shook his head, as if the rest was too horrible to say. “Anyway, the drugs wore off and Jaimis gave them an opening while he was -- distracted -- and Alec launched his own set of spells. Jaimis is injured, but alive.” Matt sat in silence, rocking back and forth. They needed time alone, and Lena glanced from Giorgio to the door, hoping he’d get the message. “I need your word, first. That you’ll stay.” A mix of fear and hope flashed across Giorgio’s face. “I’ll stay.” Giorgio kissed her cheek, patted Matt’s shoulder, and stood to leave. When the door clicked shut behind him, Lena turned to face Matt. She didn’t try to comfort him. There was nothing anyone could do to take away the revulsion she felt over what Jaimis had done to Sky. And nothing she could say would ease Matt’s horror at what had happened to his father. Instead, she sat with him, sharing his silence. After a while, she patted the mattress beside her, and he lay down on the damp sheets. Curling herself against his back, she wondered if he was imagining the same horrors she was. “You meant what you said?” His voice shook with suppressed emotion. “You won’t leave? Because I couldn’t bear it, if Jaimis captured you.” Snuggling closer, she pressed her chin into the flat stretch of muscle between his shoulder blades. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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His breathing evened out, and she rubbed his back as some of the tension eased out of his body. He’d been quiet so long she thought he was sleeping, but then he turned and murmured against her neck. “I’ll never know what you would have decided -- if you’d have stayed for me.” “And I’ll never know if you’d have come after me if I ran.” After a while, his breathing slowed, and the tension eased out of his back as he drifted off to sleep.

***** Tilting her face to the morning sun, Lena leaned back against the hillside and let tension ease out of her shoulders. She’d sat with Sky for a while, and observing Jaimis’s handiwork was enough to twist anyone into knots. Shaken by the horror of what Sky and Alec must have endured, Lena had opted to skip Sorren’s breakfast meeting. Whatever plans were made to fight Jaimis, she’d find out soon enough. Catching a glimmer of movement out of the corner of her eye, she hunched down into the concealing embrace of the tall grass. Her throat tightened when she identified Matt, stripped down to a pair of faded jeans, his hair loose around his face. The rising sun shot rays of red gold through his hair, and the muscles across his chest and stomach rippled while he walked. The tall grass added to the illusion of a lion stalking through the savannah. Matt took leonine grace to a whole new level. He stopped at the base of the hill and raised his arms skyward, his hair falling back across his shoulders as he lifted his face to the sun. His aura shimmered around him, and Lena felt the presence of the goddess like the brush of a thousand butterflies. Then he whirled into motion, and the sense of divinity vanished. Matt swooped and kicked like a darting bird, lashing out in a deadly ballet. She had no idea what form of martial arts he practiced, but the sight left her mouth dry and her crotch damp. As he moved, the grass whipped around his legs, and his hair swung around his face like frenzied snakes. The grace and sheer power of his movements stole the breath from her lungs and left her sweating in her shorts and blue tank top. She didn’t realize she’d stood to gain a better view until he pulled up short from a swooping kick and whirled toward her. “Shit!”

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Chapter Twenty-Six “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spy on you.” Remorse flared across her face. “After seeing Sky, I just wasn’t up to Sorren’s meeting.” Matt shook his head and trotted up the hill to where she’d been crouching, and she settled back onto the grass. “It’s okay. You just surprised me. My defenses are so tuned to watch for intruders, I forget to keep an eye out for friends.” He crouched beside her and touched her cheek before folding his legs under him and flattening his own patch of grass. “That was beautiful -- seeing you work out as the sun rose. There’s so much I don’t know about you.” Best not to mention the private moment with his arms raised toward the rising sun. “Like I said last night, I want to discover all the little things we missed while our lives unraveled around us.” “How’s Alec? Did you see him this morning?” Her future with Matt -- if any -- didn’t bear discussing before breakfast. Matt’s eyes clouded. “I talked with Sorren after the meeting, and he’s called in a favor from one of the California witches he met when he anchored the circle out there during the fires. Sorren says she’s as good a healer as Gillian was. They won’t have scars -- not on the outside, anyway.” “I’m sorry about your dad. I know you’re not close, but seeing anyone suffer like that…” A cloud moved across his face, knitting his brows into a tight line and tugging his mouth down into something more than a frown -- almost a grimace of pain. She waited for him to say something, but when he turned away and started shredding a stem of seeded grass, she figured this line of discussion was over.

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“Hey, I’ve got something for you.” The pain reflected on his face a moment ago vanished, replaced by a boyish grin. Her throat tightened when he sat up and reached into his pocket. Goddess, no. If he pulled out a ring, she’d take her chances with Jaimis. “Ease down, little witch. I’m not stupid enough to ask for a commitment when you were ready to bolt last night.” He let a silver chain pool in the palm of his hand, and she leaned closer to look at the knotted pendant. “For peace?” The Celtic design looked familiar, but she wasn’t certain. “That’s what Alec said. This was his mother’s -- my grandmother’s. He gave it to me the first year we met. Told me I might not have room for him in my life, and he didn’t blame me, after what I’d been through. But since his wife died in a car wreck and he doesn’t have any other kids, he wanted me to have this. Don’t know why I got attached to it, seeing as Alec and I never got along, but I’ve carried it as sort of a good-luck charm.” Stunned, Lena tried to absorb the rush of words. “When I saw your mom’s ring,” he touched the silver circle of knots on her right ring finger, “I thought of this. I can’t do a lot for Alec right now. But if he sees you wearing this…” Matt shrugged. Lena nodded and leaned toward him so he could latch the chain around her neck. The circle of knots fell gently against her chest, and she traced the pattern with her finger. “Stay here.” Rising in a fluid movement, Matt retreated back down the hill until he reached a rocky bit of soil where the grass gave way to stunted shrubs. “Watch.” He walked a circle about six feet across, and a shimmer of violet flared in a dome around him as he went to stand at the center. Crouching down, he focused on a good-sized rock. When the stone in front of him lurched, Lena clenched her fists in surprise. Even halfway up the hill, she could see the strain of concentration reflected in the rigid stance of his shoulders, and as he raised his fist, the rock rose as well. It hovered in front of him, and as Matt let out an exultant yell, a shower of stones rose into the air, whirling in a vortex of motion. Matt dropped to the ground with his hands over his head. “No!” Fear seared through her when she realized what he’d done. This was her curse, not his. A rain of pebbles pelted his back, but within seconds, the world fell still. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and she dug her nails into her palms until her hands ached. But when Matt stood to release the circle, he chuckled and did a victory dance with his fist raised in the air. Her fear slipped into anger, and as he scrambled back up the hill, she bit back words she knew she’d regret later. “Are you hurt?” Even that came out a bit terse, but it was the best she could manage.

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“Did you see that! Kenji thought I might have picked up the skill the night the three of us shared magics back at the cabin, but I didn’t know for sure until now.” Still grinning, he settled beside her on the grass. “You’ve got blood on your back.” Tracing her finger along the scratch, she heaved a sigh when she realized it was shallow enough to address with some soap and water. “Did Sorren encourage you to try that? Another weapon for the next time we confront Jaimis?”

The next time we confront Jaimis. Goddess, she’d wanted the battle to be over -decided by the grand duel. And now she’d thrown in her lot with Sorren, committed to stay the course -- weeks, months, years? -- until they managed to rein in the dark witch. Matt shook his head. “That too, I suppose, but no, it was my own idea. I talked to Kenji first, to get a few pointers, since he’s got this trick pretty well figured out. I thought if I had the same talent, and Kenji too, then maybe it would make it easier for you to accept your own power.” Swallowing hard, Lena’s anger ebbed into something more uncomfortable -- that squishy zone of feelings that wasn’t quite gratitude, love, devotion, or loyalty, but all of those bundled together in something too big to name. “Thank you.” Poor words to convey her mess of feelings. “Just please don’t try that again without Kenji around to do damage control. He’s the only one who has a decent degree of control where this is concerned.” As a cloud crossed the sun, she shivered at the thought of Matt using his new skills against Jaimis -- with her fighting alongside him. Goddess help her, “Harm none” worked well in a world without rogue witches, but Jaimis didn’t just change the rules, he annihilated them. “Did Sorren and the rest of you come up with a plan this morning?” Matt nodded. “For now, we hunker down here and consolidate our strength. Sorren’s sending Kenji and Giorgio out to negotiate alliances with a group of Canadian witches in a few days, and Sorren’s worked out some kind of mutual protection agreement with the California group.” “So other than that, we wait for Jaimis to make the first move?” “No, but we wait for him to surface. If he starts recruiting witches again, or if we get word that he’s slicing the throats of innocent witches in his blood circles, then we move. Until then…” Matt shrugged. “We’ve got some time to regroup, lick our wounds, and figure out our strengths.” “It seems so strange -- I mean, he’s one man, one witch, and yet…” “He has the power of who knows how many blood sacrifices, which makes him an army unto himself.” Matt slipped an arm around her shoulder. Lena swallowed hard and focused on a patch of clover. “I, ah, spoke with Sorren after I saw Sky this morning.” Hard enough to swallow her pride and sign on with a man she’d been

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determined not to trust. Harder still to tell Matt. “With the way things are -- Jaimis’s defiance after the duel, what he did to Alec and Sky, the threat of him gathering forces and making more blood sacrifices…” Matt brushed his hand across her shoulders. “Sorren told me you’ve agreed to go the distance, stay on until Jaimis is…no longer a threat.”

Until Jaimis is dead. That’s what he’d started to say. Given that Jaimis killed Gillian after the duel had been settled in their favor, and then viciously attacked Alec and Sky, she wasn’t naïve enough to think anything short of death would stop him. From children’s librarian to warrior witch -- hell of a career change. She felt the blood leave her face as she thought to wonder what Matt had decided. If this was going to stretch on for an indeterminable length of time, would Matt put off rebuilding his business that long? Or would he leave and take his chances with Jaimis? Studying her expression, Matt’s lips turned down in a deep frown. “We’ll talk more about all this later, Lena-cat, but for now we’ve got other matters to address.” “Like what to do about the news reports on the Florida circle?” Seizing the distraction, she raised an eyebrow in what she hoped approximated a calm, quizzical look. A hint of amusement flashed across Matt’s face. “No, Kenji did an Internet search on the hurricane and came up with eighteen articles on ocean temperatures and shifting wind patterns, giving the whole thing a scientific explanation. Unless Jaimis starts shooting off his mouth, the witch story will be passed off as a hoax.” The way he rubbed his hand across her midriff under her tank top made it hard to concentrate, but she had more questions. “And Alec? Senator Kouklakis won’t be missed?” “Sorren has a lot of pull in D.C. The word’s out that the senator’s suffering from a serious illness and will be away for a while.” “So what matters do we need to address, then?” When Matt shifted to nuzzle her belly, his morning whiskers scraping across her smooth skin, she tangled her hands in his hair and tugged him away. But when he eased her onto her back and kissed her neck, all she managed was a contented purr. “The matter of where we go from here. We’ve danced around this since last night, but I guess I need to know -- even if Jaimis weren’t a threat and you were free to leave -- are we together because we have to be, or do you want -- I mean, I want to be with you, and…” His eyebrows drew together, and he shrugged and shook his head. She shifted onto her side and cupped his cheeks in her hands. “What are you really asking?” “About half of what I want to ask, but I don’t want to scare you away. So I guess I’m saying I’d like to be a couple -- me and you.” “Meaning you won’t be crawling into Kenji’s bed anymore?”

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“Or Giorgio’s. And you won’t, either. Any other sexy witch -- or human -- who might catch either of our eyes would also be off-limits.” “Pretty restrictive rules for someone who rolled around with me in a wild orgy on the kitchen floor a few nights ago.” She’d been going for a laugh, attempting to lighten the mood, or maybe just stalling for time. But his eyes were dead serious, and in their depths, she saw things that frightened her half to death. “I lose people, Matt. Except for Serena, I haven’t been able to hold on to anyone in my life.” “And I never had anyone to begin with -- until Kenji, anyway. There’s a certain symmetry to that, don’t you think?” “I…” Breathing hard, she touched her fingers to his forehead and brushed away a few, damp strands of hair. “I love you, you know.” “Yeah, I know. But will you sign up for something a bit more committed than that?” If she said no, she suspected he’d crumple in on himself like a dry pile of autumn leaves -- and so would she. So why was it so damn hard to get the words out? “Just say yes, little witch. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to lose me.” “Yes.” A red-winged blackbird swooped so low she felt the brush of air as it flapped its wings, and the wind rustled through the grass with a gentle hissing sound. Otherwise, the hillside was so quiet she imagined she could hear Matt’s heartbeat -- though the frantic pounding most likely came from her own galloping pulse. “Okay, then.” He took a few deep breaths, and a smile stretched across his face. “Since we never finished things last night, how do you feel about sex on a sunny hillside?” She laughed, and then he kissed her, wet and wild. The friction of his mouth on hers sent shivers across the surface of her skin. What happened next swept across her in an explosion of sensation. His hands played over her body like the rippling grass in the wind, touching her face, her neck, her breasts. With a low rumble in his chest, something between a purr and a groan, he stroked her hair before stripping off her tank top, bra, shorts, and panties in a frenzy of flying cloth. Shaking with the suddenness of it all, she licked a path down his spine and nipped the sensitive spot over his tailbone as she reached forward to help him out of his jeans. He stripped out of the worn denim before she had a chance to undress him, and his boxers joined the haphazard pile of clothes surrounding them on the tall grass. “Anyone could wander out here.” She gasped as he took her nipple in his mouth and teased with his tongue before delivering a series of bone-tingling nips.

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Tilting his head to look up at her face, he let the taut bud slide from his mouth with a soft, wet sound. “Don’t care. People are most likely still hashing out plans after breakfast.” She weighed the risk of being discovered as he did his best to distract her, sucking one nipple, then the other, as she whimpered under her breath. Need twisted through her belly and ignited a path of tingling warmth along her spine. Giving herself to the moment, she shuddered at the pleasure of the soft morning air on her bare skin and the brush of grass on her calves where she knelt in front of Matt. The air smelled of crushed grass and damp soil, and the sky shimmered as blue as her glow spheres, but so big it could swallow them both in an instant. “You okay?” Matt put a hand on her shoulder as she swayed, her face turned up to the sky. “Mmm.” Leaning forward, she nuzzled her face into the crease between his chest and her arm, shrinking the world down to a size she could accept without getting dizzy. “Just to be clear, you don’t mind, do you? Here, on the hillside, without the shelter of darkness or even a shallow cave?” Shifting to lay a pattern of damp kisses across his chest, she shook her head. “Good thing, because I don’t think I could get my jeans back on over this.” He stroked his cock, running his closed fist from base to tip as she watched. When he grabbed her around the middle, she let out a shriek of surprise. Next thing she knew, she was on her hands and knees with wildflowers brushing her stomach, breasts, and thighs. She dropped her head as Matt caressed the round slope of her ass, and her hair fell around her face. When he cupped her breasts in his palms, she let out a little sound, something small and eager, but not quite a word. She shivered at the velvet touch of his shaft against her thigh when he leaned forward to nip her shoulder, his hands planted securely on the ground on each side of her. She arched her back to fit the curve of his body, pressing up against the warmth of his chest. He used his knee to spread her legs, shoving her left knee over a few inches until her back end was lower than her front. There was something raw and vulnerable about crouching in the grass with Matt’s legs pressed against the backs of her thighs. When he reached under her to touch her soft nest of curls, teasing the sensitive skin at the crease of her thighs, she groaned and pressed closer to his hand, urging him to stroke her. He sat back on his legs then, and used both hands on her, two fingers buried deep inside, and the rest caressing her wet folds in a tortuously slow rhythm.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven Lena wanted to touch him, but her hands bore her weight. Wanted to lick and nip his skin, but in this position, he was out of reach. Wanted to move under him, but he crouched behind her, only his hands touching her burning flesh. For the life of her, she couldn’t say when she’d surrendered control. Maybe when he’d ripped her clothing off under the morning sun, and she didn’t protest. Or when he’d grasped her middle and wrestled her onto her hands and knees. All she knew was now that he had the upper hand, she didn’t have the will or energy to ask for it back. From the way her body responded when he slid a third finger inside her, having him in control might be just what she needed at the moment. The sun beat down on her pale skin until her back felt tight and hot. Matt must have been fishing around in her thoughts, because when she started to worry she’d end up with a bad case of sunburn, he covered her with his body like a lion claiming his mate. When he slid one arm around her middle, pressing her closer to him, she thought for a moment he planned to enter her ass. In private, with a generous supply of lubricant, sure, but here… “Shh. I’m not going to do anything you don’t like, little witch.” Uneasy with the advantage he’d gained by sliding into her thoughts as deftly as he was about to slide into her body, she braced herself and pressed her aura past his, willing his thoughts to spill into her own. Tension rippled along her spine, and she gritted her teeth, preparing for confusion, jumbled sexual scenarios, and the unexpected. But as he bent to bite her shoulder so hard she struggled under him, his mind held only one image. The two of them coupling like feral beasts in the swaying grass. Under the ferocity of his passion, currents of affection and tenderness flowed so intensely she started to pull back. It felt like an invasion to explore something that strong, that private.

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“It’s okay, Lena-cat. I want you to know.” With that, he pulled harder around her middle, his forearm pressed across the top of her stomach and the lower edge of her ribs, and drove inside her in one long stroke. Either he’d never been this huge, or she’d never been strung so tight with need. Or maybe the angle of penetration increased the pressure a thousandfold. Swept up in currents of edgy bliss, she stifled a moan. “Too much? Did I hurt you?” He eased back, but she tossed her head and bucked against him, tilting her hips up, begging for more. The next thrust drove so deep her arms collapsed, and rather than supporting her weight on her hands, her upper body slanted down and her head rested on her forearms. Matt groaned as he withdrew until only the tip of his cock pierced her, then held that position until she squirmed under him, shivering with anticipation. This time, he plunged inside her so hard and fast her knees couldn’t support their combined weight, and her legs folded -- her thighs pressing against her calves, and her bottom resting on her ankles. With a guttural sound, Matt abandoned all attempts to slow things down, and there were no more pauses between strokes. His chest rubbed against her back, slick with sweat, and the smell of crushed grass surrounded them. Her hair tangled with the long, seeded stems as she tossed her head, and he wrapped the unruly length in his fists until she couldn’t turn her head without tugging. She felt him so deep in her belly it seemed as if his entire body was trying to crawl inside her, hot and liquid and desperate. Between them, they made so much noise there were no longer individual groans, cries, or whimpers -- just one, long, continuous sound as their bodies rocked together under the hot sun. When the first climax hit her in a blast of color and sound, her body shook so hard he released her hair and stroked her sides, crooning to her as the spasms tore through her. As she quieted, he released his grasp around her waist and slid his palm down to cup the swollen lips of her pussy. Not moving or stroking, just giving her something warm and firm to press against. He abandoned the frantic, athletic pace for smaller movements. As he slid his body over hers, the wet, soft sounds joined the rustling of the wind in the grass. No yells now, no groans or cries. Just the quiet of skin on skin. When he shuddered against her, she knew he was close, and she tilted her hips to invite him deeper. He murmured something that sounded like, “I’m sorry,” grabbed her sides with both hands, just above her hips, and held on so tight she suspected she’d have bruises where his fingers dug into her skin. But as he called out her name and shivered against her, filling her in a surging, wet rush, he reached down to brush his fingers across her clit in the barest whisper of a touch, and she came with him. Gentler this time, her release swept through her body like warm

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rain, pattering across her skin and easing knotted muscles. As their breathing steadied, they stayed crouched together, neither willing to break contact. When Matt finally slid free of her, he was still hard enough that she let out a little “Mmm” of surprise at the unexpected friction. Dropping onto his side, he rolled her onto her back and rested his damp head on her chest. “Your scent makes me crazy -- sun-ripened peaches, sex, and crushed grass.” His voice rumbled across her, tickling her breasts and vibrating against her ribs as he spoke. “Mmm.” Bless it if she could pull together a complete syllable at the moment. Encircling her wrist with his fingers, he guided her hand along his belly, into the damp nest of curls, and over his stone-hard erection. Struggling upright, she confirmed with her eyes what her fingers had already verified. Goddess, he was beautiful. Dusky red, swollen with life and energy, his cock jutted up against his belly, firm and hungry and strong. “Pays to play with a witch, wouldn’t you say, Lena-cat?” His lightly teasing tone tickled across her senses. “You’d be cheating yourself if you went back to taking fragile humans into your bed.” Laughing, she slapped his side with enough force that he grunted and rolled out of reach. She followed, drawn to the scent of pine radiating off his skin, the shimmering violet aura around his head and shoulders, and the irresistible energy of his need for her. As he shifted onto his back, she slithered on top of him, both of them wet enough that skin slipped and slid without any friction. “I love you, Lena.” His words hung on the grass-scented air, heavy and true. “No matter what happens, I’ll stand beside you.” Like a cloud darting across the sun, his reassurance drew them back into a world of uncertainty. “Look, I’ve got enough stubborn pride and independence in me to make me choke on this -- but early this morning, I told Sorren I’ll work for him. Until Jaimis is dead. No matter how long that takes.” Matt’s jaw clenched, and tension rippled around him like a swarm of bees. Shuddering at the vehemence of his statement, Lena stared into his eyes, refusing to flinch at the anger she saw reflected there. “I put everything I had into building my business -- turning a few parcels of land into a nursery, an old barn into a garden center. And part of me wants to head out and build another one, Jaimis be damned.” With a shuddering breath, Matt shook his head. “But I’ve seen what the dark witch can do, and for what he did to Alec -- to my father -- for that alone, I’d see this through. And to be with you…”

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When he touched the pendant hanging from the silver chain around her neck, then touched her forehead, the gesture soothed away fear and doubt. In its wake, she pressed against the intoxicating stretch of lean muscle, golden and strong beneath her. “I love you, Matt.” The phrase came easier than she expected, with more confidence and less fear. Having said the words, something buoyant and intoxicating rushed through her, chasing away the remnants of weightier emotions. Giddy with the inexplicable rush of freedom, she slid down until her hips covered his, then slid past, eliciting a sharp protest. She crouched between his legs, and when her hair brushed his stomach, he let out a long breath and held very still, as if afraid he’d break the spell. As tension left his body, she grinned at the tacit surrender and lowered her head to take him into her mouth. Slow and teasing, she ran her tongue from base to tip. He didn’t move, even when she lashed her tongue back and forth, zigzagging over the taut, bloodswollen flesh. Startled by the appeal of having him at her mercy, she sat back and met his eyes. “Please?” He lifted his hips, then gasped when she lowered her head and all but swallowed him whole. “Mmm.” She hummed against his skin, letting him feel the caress of her voice. “Oh, fuck. Please, little witch? Please.” His skin twitched as she pulled back and dragged her hair across his cock. “I can’t stand this much longer.” When she let her aura crackle around her, he jolted as if he’d been stung, but the sounds he made echoed pure pleasure. Within seconds, the dusky violet glow of his energy merged with her blanket of cerulean blue, and a soft, blue lilac light surrounded them. Satisfied, she shifted onto her side, her head resting on the lower part of his belly, and took him deep into her mouth. Finding a comfortable rhythm, she enjoyed the series of desperate noises vibrating through his chest. She brushed her hands across the tight expanse of his stomach, stroking his damp skin. “I won’t last long this time.” She made another humming noise to let him know she’d heard and that this was what she wanted. She knew she’d be sore later, raw where he’d stretched her to the point just before pain, then past it. No, she didn’t want him inside her again just yet. She wanted to rule his senses like he’d ruled hers. To draw so much desire from him he’d melt beneath her, his muscles dissolving in a weary heap on the warm soil. She could taste herself on him, tangy and sharp, along with the salty flavor of his cum. That alone was enough to elicit a sympathetic rush of moisture between her thighs. The way he arched, straining to burrow deeper into her mouth, filling her throat, sent licks of fire across her senses. Or maybe it was the combined pull of their auras wrapping

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them in a nest of shared experience. Because when she drew him deep into her throat -easing along the broad length of him until he slid so deep, she imagined she could swallow him whole -- she felt everything through him. Felt the damp, engulfing warmth of her mouth. The frantic tightening of his sac against his skin, as if his balls were trying to crawl up inside him. And then a rush of pure fire, searing along the surface before penetrating to his very core. Like a wader testing the water, she dipped into his thoughts, shivering at the assault of images. In the riot of color and flashes of every sort of union imaginable, the image of her fingers sliding inside his ass rose to the surface. When that particular visual repeated with increasing intensity, she realized Matt meant for her to see this.

You’re sure? It took her a moment to realize she’d thought the words, rather than spoken them, and she started to draw back, to free her mouth so she could speak. But Matt reached down and splayed his fingers across the back of her head, pressing her back onto him. “Damn sure.” She dragged her fingers through the slick fluids at the base of his cock, wetting them until they were slippery enough not to do damage. Then, on an evil little impulse, she withdrew her hand and reached down to slide her fingers inside her, linking with Matt’s thoughts and flashing him the unmistakable image. “Oh, shit. Now. Or I’m going to come before you get there.” Withdrawing her fingers, she touched the straining muscles of his thigh, letting him know what she intended. When he arched up, both driving deeper into her throat and offering himself to her, she slid her slick fingers across the crack of his ass. He trembled, and she knew he was trying to hold back. When she eased one finger past the ring of muscle, he growled low in his throat and squirmed against her, his breath coming in rapid gasps. She stroked along the tight channel, and he uttered a sharp sound as she explored deeper. When he moaned, she eased her hand back, afraid she’d hurt him, but he pressed closer. “No -- don’t stop -- right there, where you were.” As she found the spot again, she took him as deep into her throat as she could bear, swallowing hard around him. She pulled back to fill her lungs with air, then engulfed him again as her finger stroked deep inside him, following the same rhythm as her mouth. With a roar, he bucked against her, and his hand squeezed the back of her neck hard enough that she shook her head to get him to loosen his grip. She swallowed over and over, wondering how he could possibly have anything left after he’d taken her once already. She didn’t slide her finger free until he lay still and spent beneath her.

*****

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When his breath came in gasps rather than ragged pants -- about as much improvement as he was likely to get for a while -- Matt slid out from under where Lena had collapsed across his hips, tipping her onto the grass beside him. She made a soft sound that may have counted as a protest, but he felt her need tearing through his aura like a thunderstorm. “Not over until it’s over, little witch.” By the time they were done, they’d most likely fall asleep right here, waking later in a sunburned, mosquito-bitten tangle of arms and legs. But for now, he was determined to see her as satisfied and drained as he was -- even if it killed him. When she chuckled, he glowed with the knowledge that she was slipping in and out of his thoughts. Too cautious to stay long, but that would change with time. For now, the fact that she wasn’t afraid of his feelings, his fantasies, and his passions, cast a warm glow across his skin. Or maybe that was her aura, lashing against his own as he cupped her bottom in his palms and shifted her onto her back. Breathing fast, she tangled her fingers in his hair when he lowered his head to kiss her belly. He reached one arm up to find her breast, and when he did, he didn’t waste any time pinning her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. When he rolled and stretched the little peak of flesh, she whimpered, an unabashedly sexy sound that left him smiling with satisfaction. Pinching harder -- until the nipple flattened out between the pads of his fingertips, and she uttered a noise that let him know he’d skirted past the line between pleasure and pain -he lowered his mouth and captured her clit between his lips. When she bucked against him and whispered his name, the knowledge that he could drive her so high so fast rushed to his head like a drug. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough time to explore her body, to learn the nuances of her thoughts. And he was starting to think that was exactly what he wanted with her. A lifetime. Though he was careful not to let the idea play through his head when she was touching his thoughts. Time enough to introduce that notion later. For now, he was content to drive her wild, basking in the glow of sweat and fresh air and blood thrumming through her veins. Moving his mouth across the dew-soaked expanse of her pussy, he traced the creases and folds of skin with his tongue, then returned to that little mound of flesh guaranteed to push her over the edge. She gasped, and he bit down just hard enough to let her feel the scrape of his teeth. When she went very, very still, he shifted so only his lips and tongue cradled her clit, not wanting to frighten her. But at the same time he increased the pressure of his fingers around her nipple, pulling, rolling, and squeezing, until her moans became a continuous wail. Sweet goddess, it was a wonder no one heard them all the way over at Sorren’s place and wandered over to investigate. As her body shook and trembled, he sucked harder, unwilling to give ground until she came. She tore at his hair, and he moaned against her

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flesh. In the next instant, she tensed so much her head and shoulders lifted free of the earth and curled forward. “Matt!” Hearing her shout his name shot adrenalin through his veins, and he sucked harder still, as if he could swallow her climax, drawing the sensation into himself. She kicked out at the tangle of ragged grass and wildflowers, half trampled with their lovemaking. With a low series of moans and curses, she rode out the barrage of sensations. By the time her passion eased, she shivered in his arms despite the blazing sun. He snuggled her close against him, her small form tucked into the protective curve of his body. He stroked her face until she stopped trembling and kissed the side of her neck. Her hair lay in a golden tangle, darker than its usual moonlit hue and as wet as if she’d just stepped out of the shower. “Are you going to be okay?” Not “Are you okay,” because for a moment, he knew she hadn’t been. Knew this because he hadn’t been, either, when he’d come so hard in her mouth he felt as if his bones unraveled from the tendons and ligaments that held them in place. “Mmm. Better than okay. And the part when I wasn’t?” “Yeah.” He tensed, waiting for her to tell him he was a hopeless brute. “I liked it.” He’d just about processed that bit of information when she pressed her face against his cheek, her breath coming hot and fast against his ear. “And that part about a lifetime?”

Shit, shit, shit! He’d checked first, made sure she wasn’t twined around his thoughts when he’d toyed with the idea. She must be learning to slip into his head as stealthily as he could slide into hers. “Lena, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” “I’ll think about it, okay? Give me time, but I’ll think about it.” With that, she snuggled her face against the crook of his arm, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin as she drifted off. When he was certain she slept -- could feel the rise and fall of her chest under his hand as gentle as sunrise -- he leaned close to kiss her cheek. In the distance, he heard the echo of running feet and shouting voices. Whatever had stirred the community of witches into a frenzy, he’d find out soon enough. Regardless of the cause of the alarm, he knew this would be the first of many. Though he hadn’t had the heart to share Sorren’s visions with Lena, he’d tell her when she woke. Months stretching into a year and then beyond, to a conclusion Sorren said remained hidden behind a wall of mist. Matt had a hard time getting his mind around that -the sheer, grueling length of the conflict that lay ahead.

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For now, he nestled closer to Lena’s warmth, secure in their nest of matted grass. Grass so green he could hardly have imagined it when they’d first tangled their magic and bodies together in the forest clearing to call the clouds and heal the parched earth. But then, in that fateful clearing, he never could have imagined the wild, dizzying passion he’d feel for Lena. Or the love they’d find together.

Eden Rivers Eden Rivers lives in the Midwest with her husband and daughters. Like many writers, she followed a number of career paths over the years before returning to writing. In her spare time she enjoys reading, yoga, gardening, and listening to music outdoors under the full moon. Eden loves to hear from her readers, and can be contacted through her website at www.edenrivers.com or her author blog at http://edenrivers.blogspot.com.