Two Halves Series (3 page)

Read Two Halves Series Online

Authors: Marta Szemik

Tags: #urban life, #fantasy, #adventure, #collection, #teen, #paranormal romance, #young adult, #magic, #box set, #series, #shapeshifters, #ghosts, #vampires, #witch, #omnibus, #love, #witchcraft, #demons

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, aware she’d used a spell to beckon me in. I would have come with her anyway.

“You’ll leave if I don’t.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“All right.” She lifted her hand, palm toward the bushes, and the perfume disappeared. The flowers remained, and she turned back to me. “You know I’m a witch and you know I’m not a good one.”

“So?”

“You like a bad witch?” she asked.

I loved the teasing. It felt as if my feet moved by themselves as I stepped closer to feel her breath on my face. Our eyes locked as I grinned. “I like a very, very bad witch.”

“Good. Because that’s all I can be.” She lifted her arm. The glowing mark had faded to resemble a tattoo. “Why aren’t you marked yet?”

“I’ve been trying to be marked, but I haven’t seen the promise of the other side, just the sphere.”

“You know, there’s something good about being bad,” she murmured.

“That’s what I thought.” I tangled my finger into a strand of her hair, then pulled at the twig holding the locks together on top of her head. The curls tumbled to her shoulders and bosom.

“When you’re marked, at least you belong. Your soul is not stuck.”

“My sister would disagree.” My eyes remained on the dark glory of her hair.

“Sister?” She raised her brows and moved closer.

I backed up to sit on a wooden stool against the wall. “Twin sister.”

She lifted her hands to stroke my arms. “Is she as strong as you are?” Her hands tightened around my biceps.

As a shape-shifter, I could look the way she wanted me to look. Hell, I didn’t mind at all my Hollywood surfer look. Though I hadn’t shifted to that just to make her happy, all I wanted to do was please her.

“She is,” I answered. “But I don’t think you want to talk about my sister.”

“No, I don’t. I’d much rather have you.”

At this point, Xela had her legs wrapped around my waist. When she brushed her hand across my cheek, the overwhelming lure of strength and belonging tore at my insides. The heat from her palm flowed straight to my heart, sending comfort through my body.

I began to doubt Mira’s reason for wanting the water mark. Why did she insist so much? After all, it wouldn’t be our decision anyway. Our fate was already set by the keepers. Did she know something I didn’t? No, she would tell me. But she wasn’t as surprised to see Eric in the underworld as I had been.
She met him before today. Sneaky brat! She was swayed by the good.
But could I blame her? Here I was, being swayed the other way by Xela. My chances to kill someone with a black witch at my side increased. I didn’t mind her influence though
. Let’s
level out the playing field—one good, one bad. Let there be balance.

For goodness’ sake, I didn’t want to think about my sister now.

“Let me take those worries away.” Xela pressed her fingers to my temples, and my thoughts blanked into nothingness. All that remained was the pull toward Xela. I had to be with her. She pressed her lips to mine, her breasts massaging my chest. I parted my lips.

Deciding I would be the one to control the witch, I stood, holding her bottom, and carried her to the bearskin rug spread before the fireplace. I didn’t let her pull her mouth away from mine as I lay her down. We explored each other.

Finally, I allowed her to breathe.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Xander.”

“And me for you.” I pressed into her again, knowing where our closeness would lead—completely into her, where we could share the heat of our bodies. My torso molded against her front, and I knew I would let her do with me as she pleased and satisfy her more than once as well.

Her breathing became heavier as I tore open her tank top and lifted her skirt. Her hands flew to my jeans. I shifted my hips, narrowing my bones by an inch so she could pull the jeans off easily. Noticing the change, she smiled against my lips.

I pulled away to look at her face before crushing my mouth against hers.

Xela twined her fingers into my hair and pulled me closer. I saw a need in her eyes that matched mine—not only the need to be with someone, but the need to share souls.

I’d had women before, but not like this. Human women didn’t understand me and never could. Witches with a water mark seemed too proper. They constantly wondered whether they were breaking the rules, a major turn-off. Even though she belonged to the underworld, Xela seemed as lonely and confused as I was and didn’t mind giving in to the lust. She let me explore her completely without second-guessing. I would share my soul with hers from this moment forward. There was no other way.

I lowered my body onto hers, caressing her neck and breasts with my tongue. She arched her pelvis and I was inside her, fitting as if she’d been cast only for me.

We spent the rest of the night connected, each kiss more passionate than the first. Eventually we fell asleep cocooned under the bearskin. For the first time in my life I knew there was no other place I wanted to be.

When I woke, Xela’s naked body nestled against mine, her head resting on my chest. I kissed her forehead. “Hi, beautiful.”

“Hi.” She smiled.

And it wasn’t the smile of a wicked witch. Witches were marked at birth, their fate decided for them. It didn’t matter who you wanted to be and where you wanted to live; once bound, a witch belonged to the underworld or to the one above. Xela was cursed.

The curve of her smile lessened. “You’re going to leave.”

“How do you know?” Grimacing, I propped my head.

“I’m a witch.” Xela touched my shoulder to lie down.

“Will I be back?”

“I hope so.” She moved to lie on top of me, her hands resting on my chest. “I’m sorry I’m not who you’d like me to be.”

“You’re exactly who I want you to be.” I kissed the tip of her nose.

“I don’t see us together in the future.”

“Stop looking into the future, and enjoy the now.” I wrapped my arms around her nakedness, and her body repositioned exactly where I wanted it to, at my centre.

The fire in the pit suddenly surged higher, as if fuelled by oxygen. Xela glanced toward it. “I think someone is looking for you.”

I closed my eyes.
Mira.
She was worried.

“I can vortex you back alone. If I come with you, she’ll fear me.”

I smirked. Xela knew when my mind wandered to my sister. “How can I find you again?”

“Just think my name and I’ll hear you,” she answered.

“There’s a problem with that. I’ll be thinking your name the whole time we’re apart.”

She bit her lower lip. “Then imagine what we can do next time you’re here.”

I raised my brows. “I’ll be thinking about
that
all the time.”

She giggled. How could someone so delicate and innocent be bound to the underworld? Life for Xela couldn’t be more specious than mine, with my soul stuck in the void between good and evil. But at least she knew where her soul belonged.

Xela rose and strolled toward the mantel. She didn’t cover herself. I propped myself on my elbow and studied her naked back, her perfectly curved silhouette, her round buttocks like the lower half of an hourglass. My witch picked up a small box and brought it over. Her arm brushed mine as she settled beside me, sending pleasant shivers through my body.

“Take this white gem,” she instructed, lifting the lid of the box. “When you want to see me, squeeze it and I’ll bring you back.”

“I’ll squeeze until my hand bleeds.”

“Don’t do that. Your blood is precious. I could use it to make you feel things you’ve never felt.”

I smirked. “You already did that, last night.”

“Ah, that’s what you think.”

I loved her teasing.

She was the perfect woman for me: charming yet dangerous; possessing striking beauty, power, and control. I bet once Xela decided who she wanted to lure into the underworld, there was no escape—although I doubted there had been many men before me. They’d chicken out; after all, she’s a black witch powerful enough to keep one in the underworld forever.

Xela complimented me in more ways than I ever thought a witch could, and not just in the way the curves of her swaying body against mine. That observation would prompt some to call me a pig—actually, some women have called me that—but I didn’t care. Was it my fault I couldn’t control my attraction to the well-endowed?

I dressed languorously, trying to lengthen my stay by leaning closer to Xela to steal deep, wet kisses and caress her naked body under the lacy black undergarments. Her eyes sparkled with magic as they rolled from blackness to her brown hue when in ecstasy, but it wasn’t bad magic. Xela’s paranormal powers conjured electricity in my veins.

Could I be in love? That quickly?

There were so many wonderful things in life that happened quickly: falling stars, the constantly changing seasons, the flow of water, new life. Why not love?

“I’ll be back soon.” I lifted her again so she could wrap herself around my body like an anaconda.

“Soon is not fast enough,” she purred into my ear, pushing her fingers through my hair. Her words flowed through me like a potion she stoppered, and she pressed her lips to mine. I continued to hold her even when the room began spinning.

When it stopped, I found my arms empty, feeling suddenly unfilled and lost, wishing I could stay in her lair forever. My feet were planted by the spruce where I’d first met Xela. Shifting into a vampire, the fastest creature on Earth, I sped toward the hill.

I was at its entrance in less than two minutes and stopped to sniff like a dog checking markings around the perimeter of his home.
Great, lover boy is here.
I pushed my palm against the trunk of a tree; it recognized my touch and the hidden doorway opened in the hill. The aroma of peppermint and rosemary welcomed me home as I stepped inside.

“Hi, Ma.” I kissed her soft cheeks.

She smiled unsurprised, always aware when I’d be home. Ma walked toward the kitchen, her bulked hips swaying the ruffles on the skirt along the floor. Her usually braided hair was pinned in a bun, and her hum, muffled by a tired breath like her lungs were too small to inhale, mysterious.

Mira jumped out of Eric’s lap as if she’d been burned. Before she could greet me, Ma said, “I need you in the kitchen, Xander.” Looking at me from below her brows, she smiled.

She knows.
Of course she does.

“Five minutes?” I asked.

“Sure, five minutes,” she murmured, but her tone suggested she’d said, “Five minutes ain’t gonna get you out of the trouble you’re in, young man.”

I hoped the five minutes would be long enough for me to compose a good fib—a very good fib—but I doubted days of thinking would be long enough to hide something this big from Ma.

“Where were you?” Mira asked, suddenly sitting at the opposite end of the room.

“Don’t pretend you and lover boy there just met.” I waggled my finger between her and Eric.

“You know.”

“I figured.” I sighed, plopping down on the couch.

But who was I to judge? After all, I’d just spent the night with a witch. A black witch. “You shouldn’t have worried.”

Mira’s nose wiggled. “I smell roses. Where did you go to find such a sharp scent?”

I kept my eyes away from hers, knowing as soon as my sister looked into them, she’d see right through me. “I went to Pinedale. Their rose gardens are in full bloom at this time of year.”

She frowned. “The pantry is stocked. Why would you go there? You’re weird.”

“Just . . . confused.”

“Wanna talk?” she offered.

Being in tune with your twin had its pitfalls. Mira knew I was hiding something. The thing was, I did want to talk. I wanted to share my secrets with my sister, the way I always had, but this wasn’t the right time. If I mentioned Xela, Mira would flip. She wouldn’t understand.

“Ma wants to see me.” Taking a deep breath, I rose and headed toward the kitchen to face the wiser of two devils wanting to question me.

“You look like you’re going in to be executed,” Mira observed.

I grinned over my shoulder. “You never know with Ma, do you?”

“She wouldn’t hurt a soul. Unless . . . What did you do, Xander?” She pulled up her sleeve.

“I didn’t kill anyone; don’t worry.”

“I will get the truth out of you,” Mira warned.

“Yes, the same way I got the truth about lover boy.”

“Come here, sugar. Let Mrs. G have her say,” Eric said, and Mira skidded toward to him. He pulled her back into his lap and embraced her, nibbling on the back of her neck.

I rolled my eyes and stepped into the kitchen.

Ma was on a mission and waved her hand, casting a spell. The doorframe released a fog that covered the entrance, effectively dividing the two rooms. She looked at me over the rims of her spectacles. “Sit.” Although her request came in a soft voice, it felt like an order. This was serious.

I loved her too much to disobey. Guilt ate away at my insides as I pulled a stool out from under the kitchen table and sat. Black witches were among Ma and Pop’s worst enemies. They were unpredictable, striking without cause. But that’s what I loved about Xela: how unpredictable she was, especially in bed.

Ma studied me a moment. “Oh, Xander.” She sighed, “I smell black magic all over you. Mira may not know it, but red roses are a black witch’s signature.”

I picked up my head, locking my eyes with hers.

“Honey, I don’t want to meddle in your business, but I can tell you’ve been to the underworld.”

I lifted my hands like a twelve year old. “Ma, it’s just hard.”

“Life isn’t meant to be easy. I knew who you were the day I found you in the forest.” She read my predicament without me having to tell her.

My eyebrows rose, curious. “How?”

“It’s your destiny, and I know destiny.”

“Why did the keepers leave us there?” I asked as the loneliness of the void flowed back into my heart. We’d chosen when we wanted to be infants, a choice most shape-shifters made to erase their past, to forget what had happened before and start a new life. It could take months or even years to grow up; that depended on the shifter’s choice and state of mind.

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