This Wicked Magic

Chapter 29



“You did it!” Vika straddled CJ’s inert body and bracketed his face. He didn’t smile up at her or even move. “CJ?”

“What is it?” TJ asked from over her shoulder.

She pressed her fingers to his neck, over the vein. “No.” Crawling down, she put her ear to his chest. His heart didn’t beat.

“He’s not breathing,” TJ noted, and shoved her roughly aside. “He needs CPR!”

As TJ lifted his fisted hands above his brother’s chest, Vika’s world wavered to a blurry muddle of confusion. He couldn’t be dead. He...loved her. She loved him. They were going to be together if she ever got her soul back. They’d share magic and make love every day. He couldn’t be...

The thud of TJ attempting to revive CJ brought Vika back to the moment. And she remembered.

“No!” She shoved TJ away and grabbed CJ’s hand from the floor, the one that didn’t hold the halo. “Command central.”

“What?” Lucian asked, as he’d joined them now.

“He needs a kick-start!”

“Yes,” Lucian muttered, and he slapped TJ across the back. “You know about that?”

“He told me, but I’m not—”

“It’s this hand.” Vika dragged her lover’s hand up to his chest. He was covered in the vampire’s blood, and it was difficult to find the tiny battery tattoo. She wiped away the blood as best she could, then pulled up his little finger and placed it over the battery.

CJ’s chest pulsed upward, his body flopping lifelessly.

“Do it again,” TJ coached. “Hold it there.”

She pressed his finger over the battery, having no idea how the ink magic worked but having faith it would. Again, his body pulsed upward, and again, he remained lifeless.

“No, this has to work,” she cried, and spat frantically onto his chest to smear away more of the blood. “I need to clean the area. Hurry!”

A bottle of whiskey was slapped into her hand. Vika poured the alcohol over CJ’s chest, and then she rubbed the small tattoo dry with the hem of her sleeve. With a glance to Libby, who held vigil with hands clasped to her mouth, Vika nodded once, then again placed the man’s finger to the tattoo on his chest.

This time when his chest rose, he cried out and kicked the air, tumbling Vika from his chest.

* * *

As CJ lay prone, Vika straddled him and pushed the hair from his face to kiss him. Her mouth was warm against his, giving so much. She kissed his eyelids and smoothed her lips along his cheek. Nothing felt more welcomed, so warm. He had landed home.

Though his body had remained within the circle, he’d experienced it all. The trip to Daemonia had taken a week, surely, though he’d known before going it would register only a short time in this realm. The landscape had been vicious. Razor winds, agonizing heat, combined with brutal cold and rivers of blood and souls. It was the closest he ever wanted to get to Beneath.

Surprisingly, War had stood good on his word. But the moment the demon had granted CJ the soul bringer’s halo, the entirety of Daemonia had lifted their heads and sniffed out the intruder. He’d battled against claws, talons, fangs and bladed wings. Blood had run from his doppelgänger, and bones had cracked. He’d felt every break, every slashed muscle, every bite to tender flesh, and all the anger and relentless hatred that brewed the place of all demons to the nightmare it was.

And the whole time? He’d felt Vika’s hand in his. Along with TJ’s hand—and then suddenly Libby’s hand. CJ had felt a connection to the people who meant the most to him. So he’d fought and withstood the masses of demons determined to claim a strip of his flesh as prize.

And he’d survived to return. Without any passengers. He felt nothing had hitched a ride in his soul. He hoped that was so.

Setting aside the horror of the past week—or more likely, minutes—CJ fell into the warm, lush strength of Viktorie St. Charles’s kiss. He wrapped his arms about her sleek body and pulled her onto his, connecting at hips, stomach, chest and mouth, reassuring she was real and he was alive and back. In her arms.

Never again would he lose days in the archives because it was important to fill his cranium with as much spellcraft as he could possibly fit in there. There were better things in life, such as smiling at a beautiful woman, gazing into her green eyes, kissing her soft mouth and holding her perfect body against his.

He would never let her go. And while his skin burned from the touch of the nail at his throat, he thanked her grandmother for the power that enabled Vika to love him.

Perhaps it had been the kick-start as well that made his flesh feel as though he’d been jolted with a few hundred thousand volts. Good girl that she’d remembered about the spell.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. “I thought I’d lost you.”

He kissed her back. “Never. You’d come after me though, right? Catch my corpse light and keep me?”

“Don’t say that. I want you whole and in my arms, dark one.”

A man cleared his throat, and CJ remembered it had also been his brother’s presence that had been with him for the entire journey through Daemonia.

Vika sat up beside him, and he missed her warmth like that. He pushed up, and before he could pull her back to him, he noticed for the first time he held a halo in one hand. He turned it before him, and he and Vika looked it over. It was a thin piece of dull metal, looking beaten down by the elements over the years. It appeared easily bendable, but when he gave the thin circlet a try, he found it adamant.

“Doesn’t look like much,” she said. “That’s the soul bringer’s halo? His soul is contained within?”

“I guess so.” He rapped it on the hardwood floor, producing a dull, most unangelic clunk. “Thanks, TJ. We did it.”

“Yes, but if it hadn’t been for Vika, we may have lost you forever.” His brother offered his hand and CJ stood, bringing Vika up with him. “How long were you there?”

“Seemed like a week,” CJ said, clutching Vika tightly against his side.

“More like fifteen minutes,” TJ said. “You are never going back to that place if I have to lash you to a stone at the top of Everest to keep you away.”

“Sounds extreme. I’ll be a good boy and promise to stay in this realm from now on.”

“I heard that,” Lucian said.

“You have four witnesses to that statement,” TJ said. “How are you, old man?” he said to the vampire, who approached and gave CJ’s shoulder a slap.

“Fine. But don’t they give out pins after you’ve donated a gallon of blood? I want my pin.”

“Thanks, man.” CJ pulled Lucian into a man hug and the two clapped hands against one another’s back. “You’re always there when I need you.”

“Someone’s got to be a guinea pig for your magic, Brother.”

Libby joined the group, sheepishly taking her sister’s hand and observing the reunion.

“You’d better get some rest, Certainly,” TJ said.

“Can’t. I have to summon the soul bringer.”

CJ took a step, but Vika caught him as his body wobbled. Maybe he was weak. Last time he’d returned from Daemonia, he’d slept for two weeks straight, rising only to eat and use the bathroom.

“I’ll take care of him,” Vika said to TJ. “He’s not going anywhere until after I’ve gotten him in bed.”

TJ and CJ shared a grin that said more than either were willing to detail.

“Yes, I mean that exactly,” Vika said, figuring out their man code. “Libby, are you cool to go home alone?”

“Of course. Lucian, can I offer you a ride? And TJ? The hearse fits three.”

“Hearse?” Lucian’s brow tilted into a sexy chevron. “This I’ve got to see.”

* * *

Vika wandered about CJ’s loft, while over in bed, he slept. He actually snored, which she marked as a good thing, since it had to take a lot out of a person to journey to the place of all demons. He deserved the sleep. She’d do a little cleaning.

She used a broom to sweep up the salt circle, not wanting to wake her sleeping hero with the vacuum. And after every last salt grain had been swept into a box for reuse, she then cleansed the area with a spell and wormwood smudge, using supplies from his work shelf.

Some reorganizing in the fridge, tossing out old vegetables and expired peanut butter, and some straightening in the cupboards, and she felt satisfied that she’d cleaned without intruding on the not-too-chaotic disorder CJ was accustomed to.

She would leave his spell area alone, because that would infringe on his personal things, but she couldn’t resist snooping through the grimoires and his book of shadows. He was a powerful witch, and his power had been returned upon the exorcism of the final demons.

She couldn’t wait to see Certainly Jones at his finest. It was what had initially attracted her to him. Yet she’d already seen into his heart, a fine and wondrous place. In turn, he respected her magic and allowed it to be what it should be. Not once had he asked her to remove the nail about her neck to make it easier to touch her, as other of her lovers had in the past. He respected her power.

Never had a man been so generously accepting. His was a true and impeccable heart she was glad to have touched.

And oh, his touch. Sitting on the high stool before his workshop bench, she imagined him kissing her and her growing languid and melty in his embrace. Never had she a lover who could do that to her, make her grow warm thinking about their connection.

And what of his magic fingers? That was something new and worthy of much practice. Mastery may never be achieved, but he could try all he liked, although only on her. She intended to keep him all for herself.

So she’d fallen for a bad boy. She understood their appeal now. Not really bad, but the outer appearance, and CJ’s alliance with dark magic, defined him as mysterious and dangerous.

She knew otherwise; he was good.

“So good,” she whispered, and smiled as she caught her chin in hand and twirled her hair about a finger. “I love my dark one.”

With a yawn, she got up and wandered over to the bed. He lay on his side, his face concealed by a swath of hematite hair. His bare chest rose and fell rhythmically. She wanted to touch him, to be near him, so she carefully slid onto the bed, put an arm over his hip and snuggled into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

Certainly stirred and felt the warmth against his back. He knew immediately it was Vika lying beside him. He wasn’t sure if she was awake, so didn’t move.

He was back. Alive. Free. All he’d hoped for was peace. Perhaps now he would have it.

Soft lips kissed a trail down his spine. “Did you have a good rest?”

He rolled to his back, and her hand slid over his chest and down his abs. He felt a familiar stirring, and his erection hardened. He had stripped off his bloodstained jeans before collapsing in an exhausted heap on the bed, and the sheet covered him to the hips.

“Yes. How long did I sleep?”

“Most of the afternoon.”

“And you stayed the whole time?”

“I did some cleaning. Not much. And don’t worry, I didn’t mess with your spell stuff, though I did snoop a little.”

“Find anything interesting?”

“Your expertise in magic dazzles me, dark one. I want to learn from you. Will you teach me?”

“The dark stuff?”

“I think so. While I’ve chosen to only practice the light, I think knowledge on the dark can only make me more rounded and to see beyond more than my viewpoint.”

“I would love to teach you.” He took her hand and kissed it, then placed it over his erection. “But not right now, for you are the Purveyor of Hard-Ons. If not a little cool. You in a hurry to get your soul back, or can we...?”

“We’re not going anywhere until this guy—” she gave his cock a squeeze through the sheets, and CJ groaned at the teasing move “—sees some action. I should check it out, make sure he survived the strenuous journey to...that place.”

“You probably should.”

She sat up and tugged down her dress sleeves, her hair spilling liquidly over her soft skin.

Certainly said, “Allow me.” He gestured at her dress and invoked transprojectionary dislocation, which pulled down the zipper at her back and slid the fabric to a puddle at her hips to reveal her tight, rosy nipples. “My magic is stronger and faster now the infestation has been exorcised.”

“You can do this with anyone?” she asked with a cautionary tone and a lift of brow. “Strip them?”

“Of course, but I’ll only use it on you. Promise.”

“Your promises are made to be broken.”

“Only with your permission.”

“Fair enough. Can you...move anything else around?”

He quirked a brow, taking her tease for the challenge it was. “Let’s see what comes up.”

After a few flicks of his fingers and a “Lero,” CJ raised his hand and lifted Vika from the bed. She startled initially but quickly relaxed, allowing his magic to move her body. Sitting cross-legged, she hovered over his hips, the fabric of her dress dusting his thighs.

“Oh, this could be dangerous.” Tugging off her dress, she put down her knees to straddle him. “Should I let you do all the work?”

“Yes. I’ve never tried this before. Let’s see how well I do.”

Another flick of his fingers pulled the sheet away from his torso and legs. His cock, hot and furious for her enveloping heat, sprang up against Vika’s mons. She reached for it, but he reminded her he was doing it all, so she relented, placing her hands akimbo.

“A little warm-up, I think,” he said, and gestured his forefinger up and down in a come-hither movement.

Vika tilted her head and moaned satisfaction. The sensation of touch landed on her *oris; he directed it softly, evenly and then firmer. “Oh, yes, right there. I can’t believe you can do that. Oh...Certainly.”

“It’s not as satisfying as actually touching you,” he said, “but I do seem to have a talent for this.” A twist of his finger and she bit her lip, spreading her legs wider in a brazen pose.

“You wet for me, lover?”

She nodded, lost in the pleasure of his invisible touch.

With a lift of his hand, he raised her body a few inches over his cock, and then slowly, gently, lowered her onto him. He hissed and swore as she enveloped him, as if entering a fiery, squeezing tunnel. Reaching back to clutch her ankles, Vika allowed him to control her, moving her body slowly up and down, and he in turn, pistoning his hips upward, rocking in and out. He wanted to touch her, to pull her to him, and—screw it, the magic was fun, but he needed the real thing.

Sitting up, Certainly spread his hands up Vika’s back and bent to kiss her breasts. She pulled her fingers through his hair, slipping it over her mouth, and all the while they rocked together, joining, feeling one another, bonding.

“Blessed goddess, I’ve never felt such a connection to another person like this before,” Vika said. “You own me, Certainly Jones.”

“I don’t want to own you. Well, maybe your heart.”

“You have all of me.” She tilted his chin up to kiss his mouth. “I am yours. And you are mine. I’ve claimed you. If you don’t like it, then try and stop me.”

“I like it fine.”

He clutched her derriere, rammed himself deep within her and then surrendered to a shuddering orgasm. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, bruising the flesh as she cried out. This wicked magic belonged to them, and only them. And he would protect it, heart and soul.