Visions of Magic

Chapter 33



Shea was watching the fire consume the motel, and the nearby trees, when her own personal pillar of fire erupted alongside her. What did it say about her, she wondered, that she no longer jumped in surprise when Torin did the flaming-man thing?

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked, not even glancing at him. “Whoever did this is dead. You killed him.”

“Them,” he corrected, taking her shoulder and turning her to face him. “There were two. They were directed to kill you, but they didn’t know who was giving the orders.”

“So nothing was solved,” she pointed out quietly. She turned her head as the first fire engine arrived and the howling siren shut off abruptly. Men scattered, running for hoses, shouting instructions, all while the fire raged and hissed at them as if taunting their puny efforts to extinguish it.

“You’re safe again,” Torin said.

“For now.”

“Now is all we have,” he told her and drew her to him.

She tried to hold herself away, but her instincts worked against her. She might not like what was happening, but her mind insisted that she could hardly blame Torin for protecting her. There were people out there—even now—plotting her death. Shea closed her eyes and sighed as she wrapped her arms around Torin’s middle.

Burrowing into his steadiness, his warmth, she worried not about the now but about tomorrow. And the day after that. How were they supposed to complete whatever their task was if she couldn’t unlock the right memory? How was she supposed to defend herself if her powers were still wildly unpredictable?

His hands swept up and down her spine and despite the situation, her body responded. Desire for this man was always only a breath away. And apparently, even the threat of imminent death couldn’t defeat it.

“We have to go,” Torin said, pulling her back from him so that he could look into her eyes.

“How?” she asked on a short laugh that carried a tinge of near hysteria. Pointing down the hill, she said, “The explosion took out your car.”

He didn’t even glance at the blackened hulk of the sleek Viper. “We’ll find another. But for now . . .”

He pulled her close again and she nodded, folding herself around him as tightly as possible. “We go by fire.”

“Close your eyes.”

If anyone had looked up into the stand of trees, they might have thought that the inferno was spreading. But in a heartbeat, the tall tower of flames was gone and darkness reigned supreme again.





Rune’s phone call a few hours later explained how they had been tracked.

“It was under Terri’s left breast,” he said. “I don’t know if it will be the same with Shea, but that seems a good place to start checking.”

“I will.” Torin looked across the room at Shea. She hadn’t spoken again since he’d flashed her to a new motel. It had taken longer than he would have liked to cover the distance between Flagstaff, Arizona, and where they were now, in tiny El Rito, New Mexico. But he’d wanted as much distance between them and the last attack as possible.

Now he was glad of it. If there was another tracker on Shea’s body somewhere, they had to find it before whoever was after them had time to catch up.

Shea paced the small motel room. Her nerves were so tight, her power was spiking and Torin felt it as he would have a fever. Tension was ripe in the air between them and damned if he knew how to break it. He had done what he would always do. What he must do. Protect her. He would protect them all. If she couldn’t see that . . .

“Doc Fender is back in the mix, too,” Rune was saying and Torin paid attention.

He went completely still at that piece of news. “Are you sure?”

“The witches of Sanctuary are sure,” his friend said. “He’s the head of the Seekers.”

“I’ve heard of them.” Nothing good, either. They were a rogue band of militia types, well armed and scared. Not a good combination. But Torin had had no idea that Henry Fender was a part of that group. The man was infamous for his cruelty and his fanaticism. Knowing that he was part of an organized group operating outside of federal rules and regulations told Torin that the stakes had just gone higher.

Fender couldn’t be predicted. The man was mad and dedicated to what he saw as his God-given duty. To destroy witches. He hadn’t been heard from recently and Torin had hoped he was dead.

“The witches claim that he’s turning some of his victims,” Rune told him. “Offering to stop the pain if they’ll help capture others like them.”

“Bastard.”

“Exactly. So keep your eyes open. Seekers could be on your trail as well as everyone else.”

“I will.” His gaze touched Shea again. He couldn’t help but look to her wherever she was. It was as if unless he was touching her, he was only half alive.

Then Rune started talking again and Torin was caught up in the possibilities offered by the Sanctuary libraries of spell books. “She can reach them anywhere?”

“According to Karen, yes. Though it’s easier all around if you’re at least close to a Sanctuary. Something about power bridges built by the witches.” He blew out a breath. “The magics are stronger when you can draw on combined power.”

“Right. We’ll try it.”

Shea turned to look at him, a question in her eyes. He nodded to let her know he would tell her everything. She smiled briefly and Torin felt a rush of pride in her swell within him. His woman had a core of steel.

“Have you heard anything about Egan?”

“No,” Rune admitted. “But I’m going to check in with a few of the others. See if anyone’s seen him.” He paused. “You know how it is, Torin. After centuries of waiting, some can only deal with it by disappearing. Keeping to themselves.”

“That time is past,” Torin said. “The Awakening is begun and we must all stand by our witches. So you need to find Egan.”

“I will. Watch your back.”

Torin hung up and looked across the room at his woman. The strength of his gaze finally caught her attention and she looked at him. “What are we going to try?”

“The witches of Sanctuary have set up a library of ancient spell books and shadow tomes. They say you can access whatever you need through a dimensional portal.”

She laughed shortly, but there was no humor in it. “Sure. Dimensional portals. No problem. I’ll get right on it.” Shaking her head, she admitted, “I have no idea how to do that, Torin.”

“We’ll figure it out, Shea. Together.”

She studied him for a long minute. “There’s something else. What is it?”

“You may have another tracker on your body somewhere.”

She jolted and immediately slapped one hand to the back of her neck where they’d found the first chip.

“It won’t be there,” he said, moving across the room to her with long, purposeful strides.

“Then where?” She swept her own hands up and down her body as if just by looking for the damn thing she would find it.

“Rune says that Terri’s second tracker was discovered under her left breast.”

Shea’s arms instinctively came up over her breasts in a protective gesture that was as futile as it was understandable. “But they didn’t give me an injection there. I would have known . . .”

He hated seeing that look on her face. The expression that was both furious and filled with sorrow. If he could have, Torin would have returned to that prison where Shea had been held and torn it down brick by brick until there wasn’t a single stone left standing.

“They could have knocked you out for the procedure.”

“But I’d remember—”

“Not necessarily. If it’s there, Shea, we have to find it.”

Slowly, she lowered her arms, took a breath and bit down on her bottom lip. “I know. It’s just—never mind.”

He watched as different emotions raced across her face, each one appearing and disappearing so fast he could hardly identify them. But he felt her distress. Felt the tangle of fear and anger and grief knotting inside her. Torin didn’t want to admit that he might be the cause of her misery. “Don’t dismiss it. What’s bothering you? The fact that I killed those men who attacked you?”

She looked up at him and shook her head. “No. No, Torin. I know why you did it. I just . . . hate all of this. I hate being hunted. I hate that I can’t remember what I need to. I hate feeling so out of control.”

Torin smiled. “I didn’t hear you say you hate me. I think we’re making progress.”

Shea laughed a little. “I never hated you, Torin. You scared the crap out of me, but I never hated you. And now . . .”

“Now?”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he vowed. “I promise you. I will be with you through all of this. You can depend on me.”

“I know,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Shea, I have to find that tracker.”

She nodded, waved one hand in front of herself and instantly her clothes disappeared.

Hunger roared through him at the sight of her and he was pleased she had finally dispensed with her sense of modesty before him. Then he smiled, both at the view of her luscious naked body and at the display of her burgeoning control of her powers. “You’re getting better. Stronger.”

“Practice makes perfect,” she said on a choked-off laugh. “God, Torin, just find it.”

He moved in close, his gaze dropping to her left breast, where the mating tattoo was inexorably growing. The tiny red flames now formed a circle around her areola and were sweeping down in a delicate curve, following the swell of her breast and snaking toward her back, where they would eventually curve up and over her shoulder.

Pride filled him. This was his mark. The mark they had made together. And the shadow of her brand now stained his skin in the same pattern, proclaiming them a unit. Two halves of the same whole. His cock stirred, ready to claim her again. To coax more of those burning flames into life on her skin. To feel the heat of her pulling at him.

His fingertips traced the flames and he lifted his gaze to hers. He read a matching passion stirring in her emerald eyes and in response, his cock went to stone.

She reached up and held his hand to her breast, pushing herself into his touch and sighing at the cool glide of skin against skin.

“Touch me first, Torin,” she said, near breathless. “Then find the tracker. I need you. I need to feel you inside me. Wipe away the screams and the fire and the crazy people chasing us.”

His thumb and forefinger squeezed her nipple until she groaned. “I want you,” he whispered. “I always want you. I wake in a fever to touch you and sleep dreaming of you. You are the witch who holds my heart.”

She snapped her fingers and he was naked, his aching body on proud display for her. Shea smiled and reached for him, folding her fingers around his heavy thickness. Torin hissed in a breath and let his eyes close on a wave of pure pleasure.

In the midst of madness, in the turmoil of danger, all he could think about was possessing her. Laying claim to her again and again. He needed to feel the heat of the brand erupting on his skin and watch his mark on her grow. He wanted to be pounding his body into hers, feeling her slick, wet heat accepting him, taking him deep.

Her thumb caressed the very tip of him, sliding the bead of moisture she found there in tight, quick circles. He groaned and knew he was lost. He had to have her. Were the Seekers to come crashing at the door this instant, he would still have to have her.

Torin bent his head and took her left nipple into his mouth. He tasted her scent, that elemental mixture of earth and ocean and pure Shea and the cool heat of her skin. The burn of the brand filled him and increased the need already climbing to staggering heights inside him.

Shea held his head to her breast and stroked her fingertips along his cheeks, encouraging him to taste more deeply, to suckle more fiercely. As he did, she groaned, the soft sigh sliding into his very heart.

He dropped one hand to her center and found her wet and hot for him. Delving deep with two fingers, he heard her groan and pushed his fingers higher, so that he could caress her body from the inside.

She rocked into his touch, riding his hand as if everything in the world depended on the next few minutes. They were as one. Breathing shattered, bodies straining.

His tongue and teeth worked her nipple as his hands worked her core. His thumb caressed that one small nub of sensation until she let her head fall back on her neck and his name sigh from her lips.

It wasn’t enough, he thought wildly. He needed to be a part of her. Now. He tipped her back onto the bed and was only vaguely aware of the screams of the old bedsprings beneath them.

Shea continued to twist and writhe against his hand, her voice encouraging him in a hoarse whisper more compelling than a shout. “I’m so close, Torin, so close.”

“Go over for me, Shea,” he urged, breath hot against her skin as he lifted his gaze to hers.

“No, don’t push me over the edge yet.” She shook her head wildly from side to side, laughing and gasping all at once. “Need you. Need you inside me. We go together.”

“Together,” he repeated, staring into her eyes.

He covered her with his big body and pushed his hard length into her depths with one long thrust. Locked together, bodies taut with the unreleased tension claiming them both, they held perfectly still, simply relishing the soul-deep pleasure of the joining.

Then she lifted her legs to his hips, reached down to curl her fingers into his butt and smiled up at him. “Take me now, Torin. Hard and fast and deep. Don’t hold anything back.”

“Never,” he promised and kept his gaze locked with hers as his hips pumped furiously against her. The rhythm they set was blinding. White-hot cracks of lightning shot back and forth between them as power met, collided and then blended.

Again and again, he pushed himself into the only woman who had ever mattered to him. He felt his unbeating heart jerk in his chest as he watched ecstasy steal across her features.

Torin felt a stinging burn on his chest. He looked down at the tattoo on her breast and watched as the flames darkened, then flared brightly as their mating quickened, encompassing them both with the force of magic.

The incredible slide of his body into hers hastened the need already taking him over. He was relentless, pushing her higher and higher. The friction between their bodies stoked the inner fires until they lived and breathed as much as the flames that made up Torin’s being.

Everything he was, he gave her, everything she was, he took. He bent his head again, tasting her skin, licking her as a cat would a bowl of cream. He couldn’t get enough of her. Over and over, she cried out, matching his body on every thrust, urging him on, shouting his name.

He took her nipple into his mouth again and suckled her long and deep as his body laid siege to hers. And finally, he felt her reach the end of her endurance. She gave herself up to the liquid swells of her release.

As her body tightened like warm velvet around his, Torin spilled all that he was into her depths.