Dark Tide (A Mated by Magic Novel) (8 page)

Alex’s cheek stung from where the Russian clan leader had hit her. Since arriving on the yacht earlier that morning, the man had been on a never-ending rampage.

She sat in the middle of a tiny stainless steel room, complete with matching table, and a drain in the center. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine her blood washing down the tiled floor. Especially with a hose coiled neatly in the corner and the many knives sitting on a nearby table. She shivered in her metal folding chair when the arctic AC blew upon her bare shoulders.

“You dare bring a Fialko onto
my
boat,” Gregor Uragan spit out in broken English, his face inches from hers.

The man was pure fucking evil. He was the devil incarnate, with thick salt and pepper hair.

A wild vortex swirled in the black centers of his piercing blue eyes.

He yanked her head back, his fist tightening around her curls. “Maybe you no want to see your beautiful daughter again?”

Tears flowed, stinging the wounds on her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know–”

“He is my enemy! I know you know this. You are not stupid, Doctor Williams. Are you?” Gregor leaned over her, his face red, spoiling what might have been attractive features.

She shook her head no and swallowed acrid saliva.

“I am not stupid, also. If he suspect? All this work? For nothing.” He let go of her hair with one final pull.

“I swear. I didn’t say anything.” Alex’s scalp throbbed, as did her shoulders. Plastic tie-wraps cut into her wrists behind her back.

“You better be telling truth. I will know.”

“Sir.” One of his goons came into the room, eyes wary and she sighed, glad to be removed from the center of attention.

The man handed Gregor a file, posture stiff, feet planted, bracing for a swift fist. “We’ve identified the woman from the surveillance video. Her name is Maya O’Connor. She’s the oldest daughter of Daniel O’Connor, the leader of the Irroro clan.”

Gregor took the manila folder, then his mouth pulled back in a sneer. “So O’Connor sends to us a baby fish to spy?”

The man nodded. “There’s more. Fialko’s brother, Josh, has been renting out a small island belonging to the wind clan leader. It appears they’re all working together.”

Alex’s stomach lurched. That little bitch. She should’ve known.

Gregor let out a long string of curses in Russian and then said, “I want them all found and brought here. To me.” He slammed the file down on the table.

Alex flinched.

“What about your new truce with the Iesco wind clan?” A small smile played on the goon’s broad lips.

“What truce?” Gregor raised his eyebrows.

Another one of his men stood, studying the map on the stainless steel table. Alex had taken to calling him Conan. Like Arnold Schwarzenegger in the barbarian movie, his brown hair hung around his shoulders, his bulging muscles strained in his shirt.

“We’ve received word that the members of the Clan Council and many of the clan leaders are already arriving on the barge here.” Conan jammed a meaty finger at the map. “We need to act now.”

“Bah. Too soon. When I bring ship down, I want to kill
every
member of Council.” Gregor scratched his chin, glowered at Alex, and grabbed a knife off the wall. He pointed. “While alive and screaming, I peel off your skin if Fialkos make trouble for me.”

Alex cringed and looked down.

“I want those two found. And bring me the girl’s family as well.”

“Yes sir.” The younger of the two men left the room.

Conan cracked his knuckles. “If we act now we’ll still have the element of surprise. Plus, with their lower numbers, they’d be less potent.”

“How many witches we have?” Gregor focused his eyes back on Alex.

“I’ve gathered fifty-six low level witches.” She swallowed hard. “With your thirty our numbers will almost double those on board.”

Gregor gave a hard nod. “Get our ships in position. If they move, we strike. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you.” Gregor gripped Alex’s arm painfully, pulling her to her feet. “You come with me. I teach you to beg for a real witch’s cock.”

Josh groaned when the early morning sun hit his closed eyelids. He put a pillow over his head, wishing to drown out the loud chorus of tropical squawking. Finally, he gave in and opened his eyes. For a moment, he panicked.

Where am I?

Reflections of ocean waves danced over bright yellow walls muted by a mosquito net draped from hooks on the ceiling.

His heart slowed to normal when he woke fully, remembered, and smiled.

It’d been late when they’d moved off his island to this much more remote one. After that, he’d spent the next few hours in a repeat performance of what was undoubtedly the most incredible sex of his life.

Beside him, Maya lay sleeping on her stomach, lemon and lime colored sheets pulled low across her back. So fucking perfect. Dragging his knuckles across her soft flesh, she stirred.

Red lashes fluttered and her eyes moved behind her lids. Lips, swollen from her passionate kisses, moaned his name. If he wasn’t so sure her body ached as much as his, he’d wake her.

On the yellow bedside table, the sat-phone read eight. Probably time to get up. He breathed in the smell of their sex upon the sheets, her shampoo, and something else that was all her. Like ocean mixed with cinnamon and cream.

He’d expected good sex, but never what happened between them. He gently moved her hair aside to kiss her temple. Shit. He didn’t even know women could be that passionate. Every time he’d touched her, she’d reacted in a way that made him wild. Out of control. Mindless.

And this morning? Damn if he wasn’t happy for the first time in years.

Green irises gazed up at him and she smiled. “Hey.”

Her lips begged to be kissed, so he did. “Hey back.”

“You hungry?”

“Ravenous. For you.”

Her mouth curved up in a smile that brightened her whole face. “Any more of that and I’ll need a healer.”

“As far as I know, there’s none close by, so I guess we should make some breakfast.”

“I’ll make it. You can have a shower.”  She pushed off from him, ducked under the net, and bent over to pull on his t-shirt. His cock shot up to high noon at the sight of her beautiful behind.

Then, she disappeared out of the canary room, down the hall, humming some God-awful tune that made him grin.

After he stepped from the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist, and inhaled the sweet aroma of coffee. It drifted throughout the small cottage.

Back in the bedroom, on the nightstand, a breakfast was laid out on a platter like he was in the Waldorf Astoria. A tropical flower stood in a clear glass vase.

She strolled into the room, two steaming mugs in hand.

“Breakfast in bed?” He raised his eyebrows and sat down, the bed creaking under his weight. 

“I like to cook.” Smiling, she handed him a cup of the strong brew.

When they touched, the zing was still there, but different. More intimate. And standing there, wearing just his black t-shirt, his Neanderthal brain grunted.

Mine.

Last night was supposed to be just sex. Hell, it
was
just sex. Obviously, she thought it was more. But damn, she looked so cute, all sexed mussed. And that smile.
Shit
. He wouldn’t ruin the moment for her.

He’d call her out on it later. But not now.

Her green eyes studied him from behind her mug. Damned if he didn’t like that, too. Nicole always wanted to talk. Maya could be quiet. Let a man think.

The two women were as different as night and day.

Maya was wild in bed, each move, a sexy dance that drove him mad. When she came, the whole bed shook.

Nicole had been good, practiced, like a high-priced whore. He wondered how many times his wife had faked her orgasms.

A piece of bacon appeared in front of his mouth.

“Eat. You need your strength.”

When he grabbed a piece of toast off the plate, she smiled down at him sweetly. He grinned back like an idiot. This was
so
not supposed to happen.

He was falling for her.

And it had to stop. Sex was just sex. No grinning, no singing, no afterglow.

She needed to dress. Just the sight of those long legs made him hard for her again. He needed to feel her ankles lock around the small of his back. To come inside her.

Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Usually sex fed the beast, not made him even more desperate to possess the woman.

Shaking his head, he put the toast down. He needed a plan. Then, he needed to clear out before she had him picking out china.

“We need to talk.”

Her eyebrows rose at his stern tone, but damn it, she needed to understand.

“Listen, about last night...” He stopped when her smile faded.

“I know. Just sex.”

He ran his fingers over his face and sighed.

“Yeah. But we also need to talk about Gregor. We both need to wake up here and figure some things out. Sit. Please.” He patted the bed next to him.

“Oh.” Doing as asked, she blinked at him, as if she too had forgotten everything. “If you’re worried about someone finding us, no one knows about this place. Only me, my brothers and sisters, and my parents. We can stay here as long as we need. The island is completely self-sufficient, even the water is treated from the ocean.”

“Good to know, but we have to let your family know you’re safe.” He tucked her chin and forced her to see how serious he was about this.

A little pout appeared. “I
did
. There’s a special signal, a type of beacon. We used it growing up when we needed some time alone without a lot of explanations.”

Josh nodded and let go. Figured a clan leader would have a safe house.

He grabbed one of her hands from off her lap. “Still, I need to let your father know what’s going on.”

“Okay. When do we go?” She jumped off the bed, pulling him with him.

“I told your father I would keep you safe. You’re going to stay here, while I–”

“Seriously? You’re going all caveman?” She let go of him and placed her hands on her hips with eyebrows raised.

“What the hell does that mean?” he growled back, annoyed that he’d called himself the same thing but a moment ago.

“It means I don’t need your protection. I’m coming with you.” She opened a drawer in a lime colored dresser and pulled out a pair of faded shorts.

“We talked about this last night.”

“No. We agreed that we are both in an equal amount of danger.” Next, she pulled out panties and a t-shirt. No bra, he noted.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head when she discarded it.
Shit
. It smelled like her.

“Damn it Maya. You can’t think you can handle someone like Gregor.” He knelt and found his jeans kicked way under the bed.

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“No.” He rubbed his temples where a headache had started. “Because he’s bad news. Whatever you think he is, he’s much worse. He collects women witches to mate with. To increase the power of his clan. Even if it’s not solstice, your children, and his–” he swallowed hard at the thought. “It would change the whole balance of power in Europe.”

“And us, Josh? What if I get pregnant?”

His heart stopped.

“We won’t, will we?” He froze.

She waved away his concerns with a brush of a hand. “No, of course not. We used protection. But don’t you see? The Fialkos are seen as a threat by the rest of the world. Your brothers have already mated with the strongest of earth and wind talents. You’ve become more powerful than any other clan. You think Gregor doesn’t know that? That the rest of the clans aren’t worried?”

“Uragan signed a truce with my brother,” he mumbled, knowing she was right. When he started toward the front of the cottage, she followed.

She turned to him, small hands on his waist. “Where’re you going?”

He opened the front door, shrugging her aside. “I told you, I need to speak with your father.”

The waves outside crashed against the island shore. Maya’s face skewed, and suddenly he was knee deep in water.

The centers of her green eyes stormed. “You won’t tell me what to do. Are we clear?”

Salt water soaked his clean jeans.

He lit his fire power, dried the rising water, and steam sizzled about them.

“Fine.” He fumed. “By the way, you ruined the kitchen.”

She smiled and said with a sweet voice, “The floor and lower walls are fully salt water resistant. Tiled. Mom insisted. The whole family has a bit of a temper.”

He shook his head, breathing out heavily, then followed her outside to where they’d hidden the boat under a canopy of plastic jungle ferns.

The small craft was a hell of a lot faster than he imagined as she pushed the throttle to max. Her red hair flew about her head and she laughed.

Still a bit irritated, he grabbed hold of the seat as they bounced over the tops of waves.

When she drifted to the dock in front of her father’s hotel, he made her cover her head in a huge brimmed straw hat stored onboard. He found sunglasses, the best he could do for disguises to get them into the hotel. He was sure the Russians had the place staked out.

He helped her out of the boat, his body instantly warming at the touch. How was he supposed to think clearly when she was around?

Turning toward the hotel, he froze.

Two men stood on the pier in front of the hotel. Dressed in matching black suits and sunglasses, their intent was clear.

The wind picked up, whipping off her hat as they upped their magic. They reached into the back of their jeans, no doubt armed with weapons.

Josh grabbed her by the arm and threw her into the water, then followed.

She came up sputtering, but he ducked her head back under the water and made her look at him. He pointed and indicated she should swim under the next dock. At the fifth, he checked where the two scoured the water, guns in hand.

“My dad–”

“Assumes we’re safely tucked away in the safe house.”

“No, look.” She nodded in the direction of the hotel.

Daniel O’Connor emerged, arms raised, a terrifying scowl on his face.

“Get down,” she yelled, covering them with a water shield.

At the same time, the dock suddenly cracked in two, split by a waterspout the size of small tornado. The men flew six feet into the air, then were dropped into the wreckage.

Maya smiled. “They shouldn’t piss off my father.”

“Yeah, neither should we.” He dreaded explaining to her old man how he had been talked into letting his willful daughter off the island.