Five
Too easy,” Xander said, his eyes on the stiff-backed Familiar as she marched through the entrance of the St. John Hotel. An entrance he’d empowered with a spell that provoked restlessness.
Sirius’s head turned as he followed Westin crossing the street. He had more than a score to settle. He wanted to hit the High Council where it hurt, and turning their golden boy into a dark master would be a crippling blow. Westin had already done much of the work for them by breaching the Transcendual Realm. His aura was tainted by the effort. He should be rogue . . . hunted . . . But Westin always got away with everything. The Council was more afraid of losing him than keeping him.
“We’ll need more than that little run-in,” Sirius murmured. “We’ve got one shot at tainting that Familiar. If we f*ck it up, Westin will know and take steps. We won’t get a second chance.”
“Got something in mind?”
“He needs to have a reason not to send Patridge off on her merry way. He’ll keep her close if he thinks she’s a target.”
“You want to take ’em both on at once?” Xander turned wide eyes to Sirius. “Now we’re talking!”
Sirius transferred to a point ahead of Westin and his hot piece of ass, lingering in half form in the shadows. Extending a ghostly hand—the shape formed by grasping tendrils of gray smoke—Sirius cast a spell that formed a dark puddle on the sidewalk. It writhed gently, ripples forming as it sensed its prey approaching. Xander joined him just as Jezebel Patridge stepped into the deceptively shallow-looking water.
She screamed as the water rushed up her body like a sleeve, greedily hugging the curves that Westin was intimately familiar with. A laugh bubbled up in Sirius’s throat—
Westin pivoted abruptly. Thrusting out both hands, he launched a ball of energy from his fingertips. It struck Sirius in the chest with unerring precision. It sent him spinning deeper into the shadows. Then farther, into oblivion.
Arianna settled into the seat in front of Victoria’s desk and crossed her jeans-clad legs. The witch wore her red hair cropped short and spiked. Brown eyes rimmed heavily with liner and burgundy-stained lips emphasized the paleness of her flawless skin. It also caused people to misjudge her as delinquent and ungifted.
Fact was, Arianna was the best scribing witch Victoria had ever come across. Whether it was information or an object, Arianna could find it.
“Westin’s been shagging Jezebel Patridge on and off for the last twenty years or so,” the witch announced, sliding into her customary slouch.
Victoria caught her breath, then exhaled in a rush. “Twenty years?”
“Nothing serious, from what I heard. Most of those I talked to describe it as a friends-with-benefits kind of thing. He certainly hasn’t been monogamous. He’s been bed-hopping the whole time. Although beds aren’t always involved, I’ve been told.”
That didn’t make Victoria feel better. “Twenty years is a long time.”
“Yeah.” Arianna shrugged. “There are no gruesome stories about a nasty breakup or anything. I get the impression it’s more like a breather between the two rather than a split.”
Pushing back from her desk, Victoria stood and began to pace. Her feline need to roam when feeling caged had kicked in with a vengeance. Everything seemed off. The hotel staff was being run ragged by guest queries and requests. She wondered if the restlessness she felt was affecting everyone around her or if the reverse was true.
“Also,” Arianna went on, “Patridge has become somewhat of an expert on Westin and his technique. She’s given lectures at the academy breaking down the methods he used to capture Barnes and Powell, so the information I gathered was mostly authored by her.”
Which meant Jezebel might actually be useful to Max on a hunt for those same rogues, not that Victoria was soothed by the thought. She’d researched Max when they first met, but only superficially. She realized that she had subconsciously—but likely deliberately—avoided digging into his personal life. Even then she couldn’t bear the thought of him with someone else.
“Have they hunted together in the past?” Victoria asked, pausing at the window to stare out at the urban jungle spread before her. Fog hung over the city, obscuring the upper halves of the skyscrapers that dotted the landscape for miles. Below, traffic slid along the streets in endless ribbons, the cacophony of the city lapping at her heightened feline senses.
“Not that I could find. Listen, don’t get twisted out of shape over this. No guy is worth it. Besides, the binding works both ways. You hardly ever hear about mated pairs f*cking around on each other.”
“You hardly ever hear about mated pairs composed of a Hunter and Familiar either,” Victoria said drily, turning to face the redhead again.
“True.” Arianna stood and withdrew a flash drive from her pocket. She tossed it to Victoria. “But he’s not worth shit if he can’t keep it in his pants for you.”
Victoria caught the drive and her hand closed like a fist around it. The level of Max’s experience had been evident from the moment she laid eyes on him. Every inch of him exuded sin and sex. From the sensual way he moved to the confidence in his eyes. And when he touched her, his skill blew her mind.
Max Westin f*cked like a god.
Still, men who played sometimes strayed, and clearly Jezebel had something Max hadn’t minded tapping over and over again. For decades.
“I’ll bill you,” Arianna said, heading out.
Gathering her resolve, Victoria sat at her desk and plugged in the flash drive. She was sliding the arrow over to click the drive open when she felt the first tingles of Max’s magic tapping into hers. Without further warning, the force of the draw exploded. It sucked at her strength like a raging vortex, dragging her down until she tumbled from the chair to the floor.
“Damn it.” Jezebel stared into the steaming mug of tea she held with both hands. “That attack shouldn’t have scared me as much as it did.”
Max stood over her, his thoughts grim.
She tilted her head back to look up at him. She wore one of his robes, her clothes discarded because of the taint that clung to them. She’d showered, but her hair and makeup were flawless as usual, reapplied with a simple spell.
He glanced at the clock, knowing Victoria would be leaving the hotel within the hour. He couldn’t risk her coming home alone and unprotected, no matter how much power she carried on her own. “I have to go.”
“Don’t go after them without me!” Jezebel protested, pushing to her feet, a move that caused the robe she was wearing to part and reveal the length of her bare leg.
Once, the sight would’ve stirred his lust and hardened his cock, but it had little effect on him now. His thoughts were with Victoria.
They weren’t all focused on keeping her safe.
Spurred by the rush of wielding the full force of his magic, his desire was white-hot, his mind racing through one erotic scenario after another. He wanted his woman stripped and bound, her lithe body spread and open to his lust. Only then would she be open to the rush of magic that would replenish what he’d taken from her earlier. Replenish him as well, building the reserves he’d need to vanquish his prey once and for all.
“I’m going to get Victoria,” he said, his voice hoarse from the depth of his need.
Jezebel’s mouth tightened at the mention of his Familiar. “I’ll go with you.”
“Not a good idea.” His kitten already had her fur ruffled over Jezebel. But more relevant was the fact that when he got his hands on Victoria, he wasn’t letting go until he’d come his last drop in her. It was certain Jezebel wouldn’t appreciate cooling her heels while he did so.
“Doesn’t she know what you’re like, Max?” she asked, her eyes diamond bright . . . and equally hard. “Jealousy is pointless when it comes to you.”
“I’m not the man who used to f*ck you, Jezebel.”
“Has she tamed you, then?” she goaded softly. “What a shame.”
His mouth quirked and he stepped away, deciding not to bother with his vest and jacket. His blood was hot with the hunt, making him want bare skin over clothing. “You and I can be friends, Jezebel, or not. That’s up to you.”
She materialized naked and on her knees in front of him, her head bowed in a pose of submission she knew would goad his dominant nature. Her hands rested on her knees, her body waiting for his command. “As long as I get your cock inside me, you can call me whatever you want. I need it, Max. I feel empty without it.”
Max took a deep breath. His body was hard and aching, and black magic still clung faintly to Jezebel, calling to the darkness inside him. His mind retained heated memories of his past with Jezebel, a true submissive, which prompted a reluctant response to the sight of her capitulation. While Victoria eventually surrendered, it wasn’t without some resistance. She gave him control because she chose to please him, not because she had a true compulsion to do so.
But she was the only woman he wanted. The only one who could soothe the beast inside him.
He flashed to Victoria’s office, incited by the thought of subduing her naturally defiant nature. In that respect Jezebel was right—he loved the challenge.
His kitten sat behind her desk, a frown of concentration on her beautiful face as she read from her monitor. Her long slender legs were crossed at the ankles beneath her desk, while diamond studs sparkled with multihued fire at her ears. He flashed behind her, reading over her shoulder, intrigued by the realization that she was studying up on him.
Gods, he loved her. Loved that she was as consumed by him as he was by her.
“I want your cunt,” he said gruffly, driven hard by his need. “And your ass.”
Her head swiveled toward him and she pushed to her feet. “Max. What the f*ck happened today?”
He snapped his fingers and removed her clothes, leaving her as naked as Jezebel had been. The two women could not have been more different, not just in their appearance but also in their effect on him. While his lust had been stirred instinctually by Jezebel, what Victoria incited in him was a different sort of hunger altogether. Ravenous. Insatiable. Soul-deep. One goaded as much by his love for her as it was by his desire for her body.
“On your knees,” he ordered.
“Max—”
“Now.”
Her jaw tightened before she shoved her chair aside and obeyed. That hint of rebellion pushed him further. He touched her shoulder and took her across town to his loft, a space he no longer resided in but kept as a playroom.
“That’s right, kitten. It’s time to play.”