Visions of Magic (24 page)

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.

“I
f we kill each other, at least we'll die happy,” Shea said when she was sure she could speak without her voice breaking.

Tiny, delicious little aftershocks still trembled throughout her body, making her sigh with the quiet pleasure. The burning sensation on her breast had passed, and she knew without looking that more flames had been branded into her skin. Torin lay beside her, one arm tossed across her middle, one leg thrown over hers.

He took up a lot of space, her Eternal, but it was more than his massive size that was carving out a spot for him in her heart. It was his fierce tenderness. The vulnerability she only occasionally caught a glimpse of. The protection he offered her so willingly and the quiet determination to do whatever was necessary to keep her safe.

Also, he was the most amazing lover she could ever have imagined.

“You won't die,” he said, his face in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. “I won't allow it.”

She ran her fingertips up and down his arm, loving the feel of his skin beneath hers. “I know you'll do everything you can, Torin.”

“No.” He pushed up on one elbow and met her gaze. She stared up into his pale gray eyes and wondered how she could ever have been afraid of that unusual stare. When she saw his eyes now, she saw the past and the future and the ever-shifting present.

“Don't make promises you might not be able to keep,” she said softly, as she lifted one hand to touch the corner of his mouth.

“This promise will be kept. At all costs. Have I not proven that to you yet?”

Her heart clenched in her chest. Yes, he had shown that he would do anything for her. To save her. The prison guards he'd killed to help her escape. The assassins he'd killed to try to prevent further attacks.

“You have. But even the most stalwart protector can't defend against every danger, Torin. You're just one man.”

“Eternal.”

She smiled and corrected herself. “Eternal. I know you'll do everything you possibly can, Torin. But just in case something happens—” God, she didn't want to think about the possibility of being torn from him. Of dying just as she was discovering how to live. But the threat had to be recognized for what it was. “—I want you to know, this time with you has been the best of my life.”

He laughed shortly.

“What?” Offended, she pushed at his arm, but didn't budge it an inch.

“You've been kidnapped, implanted with electronic bugs, imprisoned, shot and nearly blown up all in the space of less than two weeks.”

“True. But you know what else I've been?”

He shook his head.

“I've been with you,” she said, dragging her fingers across the breadth of his chest, tracing the curve of the mating brand. “I've been part of a team. I've found out who I am and have begun to learn how to use
what
I am. I've been made love to by a damn expert—”

He gave her a smug, purely masculine smile.

“—and if it all ends tomorrow, I'll regret leaving you, but I won't regret a moment of anything else.”

His arm around her tightened and the smile on his face disappeared. “Nothing will happen to you, Shea. I finally have you and I won't let you go. No matter what. I need you to believe that. Believe in me.”

“I do,” she said, clutching him to her, holding tight and fast to the huge man who had so quickly become the most important person in her world. “I really do, Torin.”

“Good.” He kissed her, fast and hard. “Now, lie back, and let me find that damn tracker so we can get out of here.”

Shea did as he asked and rolled to her back. Lifting her arms, she stretched them out behind her head, baring herself to his concentrated gaze. His fingers moved over and under the curve of her left breast, following the trail of her witch tattoo that became more defined, more a part of her, every day.

“Can you feel it?”

“No,” he said. “I'm going to call on the fire, use magic to find it. Hold still.”

She watched him, unable to tear her gaze from the man. His long, dark hair fell to his shoulders, and his pale eyes were narrowed and focused on his task.

Flames leapt into life on his fingertips. With his right hand, he slowly traced the curve of her breast, pressing the living fire into her skin.

She felt the heat, dizzying as it spread across her chest, over her abdomen and then lower, settling in the very center of her. The heat became an ache and despite the situation she was in, Shea felt the stirrings of need whip through her again.

Torin had explained that once the mating began, they would feel a constant need. With every day that passed, their bond became stronger. The brand grew and spread across their skin. Their mental and physical link was defining itself anew at every moment.

It was as if they actually were two halves of a whole, finally coming together after an eternity apart.

All Shea knew was that she ached for him. Ached to feel his body pressing down onto hers. Until their thirty days were over, their mating would become more frenzied, more intimate, more vital. Though she couldn't imagine it getting any better than it already was.

Torin continued his exploration of the curve and mound of her breast, forcing the flames and the power they sprung from to dig deep within her. To go beneath the skin and into the very muscles of her body and finally, he found what he sought.

“It's there,” he said, voice tight with an anger he refused to release. “Magic found it, but I'll have to cut it out as I did the last one. Rune told me one of the witches was a metal caller and pulled the tracker out of Terri's body. I don't have that magic.”

Shea nodded, tightening her fists over the headboard behind her. “It's all right. I'm ready. Get it out of me, Torin.”

He straightened, held up one hand and his knife appeared, lamplight glinting off the long, wicked blade. Looking down at her, he held Shea's gaze for a long moment.

“Do it, Torin.”

“This will hurt, but I will take as much of your pain as possible.”

She nodded and braced herself. The tip of his blade dug into her flesh at the base of her breast. She arched up off the bed and clenched her jaw tight at the sharp slap of pain. He was forced to dig for the tracker and before he was finished, Shea was whimpering. The muscles in her arms were locked in the death grip she had on the headboard. A single tear seeped from the corner of her eye and a relieved breath slid from her lungs as he held up the chip to show her.

“Is that it?” she asked. “Is that all of them?”

He stretched out his hand, laid the tracker on the bedside table and smashed it with the hilt of his knife. Frowning, he bent to her breast again and ordered, “Hold on to me so that I can seal your wound.”

She pried one hand off the headboard and laid it over Torin's shoulder. An instant later, heat bloomed on her flesh as their combined powers linked to heal the slice beneath her breast.

When he was done, he bent his head and tenderly kissed the spot where his knife had cut her. His tongue traced the pattern of red flames branding her skin and followed the circular tattoo until he came to her nipple. Then he pulled it into his mouth and used his tongue and teeth to drive the last of the pain from her body and mind.

“Torin . . .”

He looked at her, lifted his head and whispered, “I will check your body myself. Every square inch, until we are sure you're free of their traps.”

Shea lost herself in the passion between them. Pain was forgotten. Fear was quickly shelved for another time. She wanted, more than anything, to feel alive. Completely alive. And that was possible only when he was inside her.

“Maybe,” she said, rolling over onto her stomach and looking back at him over her shoulder, “you should start checking me now. If you're going to be thorough, it could take a while.”

He gave her a slow, satisfied smile. “Perhaps you're right,” he said, sliding the flat of his hands up her thighs to the curve of her behind. “I should be thorough.”

“Let me help,” she offered, going up on her knees as she grabbed hold of the headboard again. She wiggled her behind and parted her legs in invitation. “I don't want you to miss anything, now do I?”

“I promise you,” he said softly, “no matter how long it takes, nothing will be overlooked. I am a very patient man.”

Torin came up behind her and ran his fingers through the dark red curls guarding her damp, hot flesh until her hips rocked and her breath came in short gasps. When neither of them could take the separation any longer, he mounted her and shoved himself into her depths.

The slap of flesh meeting flesh, the harsh, labored breathing and the whispered words of promises and pleas were the only sounds in the dimly lit room as once more, the witch and her Eternal made magic as old as time itself.

 

“The closest Sanctuary is only a day from here,” Torin assured her. “We're near enough for you to try to make contact with the portal.”

“Right.” Naked, Shea sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the mirror Torin had ripped off the wall. She was about to attempt a portal opening spell and she knew that spellwork was more effective if done skyclad. Though it felt weird to be sitting naked in front of a mirror. They were in a roadside motel just outside Norman, Oklahoma. She glanced around at the oh, so familiar generic motel furniture and squelched a sigh.

Since going on the run, they had been in far too many of these motel rooms.

“If you have trouble with the spell you've written, we can go to Sanctuary in person tomorrow.”

She nodded, glanced up at him and gave him a brief smile. “We've been focusing for days, channeling our powers together to be strong enough to enter the portal. I can do this.”

“I have faith,” he said. Holding the mirror upright for her, Torin watched as she lit a single yellow candle.

The wick caught and a wavering flame danced in the stillness. “Yellow for confidence, divination, to stimulate the conscious mind,” she whispered.

“You remember,” he said just as softly.

“Yes. More every day. But not quickly enough.” Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, waved her hands over the candle flame three times and whispered the chant she had written only that morning.

Torin grinned, but kept silent so he wouldn't interrupt her concentration. But damned if he wasn't enjoying watching his woman find her magical feet. She was proud and resilient and as stubborn as ever. But at the heart of her, she was pure female. And all his.

“I see the portal,” she said, a half smile on her face. She opened her eyes, stared into the mirror and spoke without looking at Torin. “It's like a bubble. Shining with the light of a million suns. It's wavering, like a mirage in the desert.”

“Can you reach in?” he asked quietly.

“I think so.” She drew one long, deep breath and leaned forward, over the dancing candle flame toward the mirror.

Torin said nothing as she reached
into
the glass, her hand and arm disappearing from sight. Her features were twisted into a mask of concentration. “It's right there. I can touch it. Feel it. I just have to . . .
grab it
!”

As she said the last two words, she jerked back, pulling out of the mirror. The candle flame snuffed out as if an unseen breath had blown on it.

“I did it,” she whispered, glancing up at him with a wide smile.

He looked at the worn leather book she held in both hands and felt an answering smile on his own face. “You found the book you wanted?”

“I found the book I cast the spell for,” she said, caressing the cover. “Hopefully, it will give me what I have to know about casting more spells and gathering up the magic we're going to need.”

 

A week later, Torin and Shea were holed up in yet another motel somewhere in Ohio. The last town she remembered going through was Brecksville, a suburb of Cleveland. Since she was geographically challenged in the best of times, she had no idea where that might be on a map. All she really cared about was that they were as lost to the world as they could be.

Although she knew all too well that nowhere was safe.

Not for Shea.

She and Torin had discovered that hard truth during their cross-country ride. Didn't matter if he'd removed all of the electronic trackers from her body. Their enemies would eventually find them anyway. Shea's face was on every news channel. Her eyes stared out at them from the covers of magazines and the grainy front pages of newspapers.

She'd hoped that as more time passed, her story would be forgotten—or at least be moved to the back of the line, behind more breaking news. But rather than the story dying down, it was ratcheting up as the whole country took an interest in the witch who had escaped Terminal Island.