Enlightened [Sexual Magic 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

Then, she had to find a Dom to tame her.

Griffin King strode up the sidewalk of the Council’s discreet, immaculate brownstone. Neatly trimmed hedges of English holly, ripe and colorful with orange berries, bracketed the building. A strip of equally manicured flower beds fronted the hedges, the soil filled with small plants. He didn’t know the names, but he liked the way they looked. The grounds were elegant and refined, much like the Council’s indomitable leader, Clarissa.

Griff found it hard to believe it’d only been six years since he’d joined the Council as an Enricher. It was harder still to remember what his life had been like before then, except to say he’d been miserable and emotionally destroyed.

Griff paused and drew in the crisp November air. It helped clear his head of the random bad memories of his ex-wife, their failed marriage, and the funk he’d been in before Noah and Madelyn had shown up on his doorstep with their remarkable tale of magic, sex, and a job offer.

He loped up the steps, rapped twice, and twisted the brass knob. The old oak door swung silently inward. A warm, inviting scent of spiced pumpkin wafted on the air.

He smiled with appreciation.

“Good afternoon, Mr. King.”

He nodded at Susan, the Council’s uber-efficient receptionist. “Hi, Susan. Is Clarissa in? Mason and I have a two o’clock appointment with her. He here yet?”

Susan winked up at him. “Mr. Shaw is in the lounge.” She lifted a tin of chocolate-covered biscuits. “That blue-eyed charmer never fails to impress.” She looked with pointed exaggeration at his empty hands.

Griff chuckled. “Sorry, Susan, I got nothing.”

She shook her head. “You never do.”

“I’m a cad, I know.”

Her robust laugh spilled over him. “I refuse to believe it.” She leaned forward, eyes twinkling brightly. “Actually, Clarissa is upstairs with the American Scryer.”

He whistled. “Holy hell, they found someone else? An immortal?”

“Maybe, not sure about the immortal status, though. I don’t think we’ve had one since Kade.” Susan raised her hand. “Fingers crossed.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. Neither he nor Mason were immortals—those were even more rare than undiscovered Enrichers. But finding another talented Enricher was quite a coup since most people were usually unaware of their abilities until the Council intervened. He’d not known he could channel emotions before he stepped foot in the Council’s training area. Finding out he was also a lesser empath had been interesting. “Thanks, Susan.”

He skirted her desk and headed for the lounge where he found Mason sprawled on a sofa, eating a peanut butter sandwich and watching the sports network.

Mason lifted a hand in greeting when he entered. “Susan tell you about the Scry?”

“Yeah. Pretty amazing. Makes, what, the fourth this year?”

“Sounds about right. Weird that for so long there was nothing and now so many.” Mason slanted him a sidelong glance. “Almost as if the universe is trying to tell us something, don’t you think?”

With a scowl, Griff grabbed a soda from the fridge and settled next to Mason. “Damn, Mace, don’t start that again. Your restlessness was the whole reason we took a break. I expected you to come back ready to go again.”

His partner shrugged. “What we do is great, Griff, don’t get me wrong. I like helping people.” He gave a wide, white-toothed grin. “And you know I love the sex.”

Griff’s gut twisted. “But?” he asked softly.

Mason looked away. “I don’t know. It all still feels so superficial. Like there’s something
more
and we haven’t found it. Yet.”

Though he didn’t give voice to his thoughts, Griff knew his friend was talking about Fi, Alec, and Kade. That triad was a freaking Hallmark commercial for togetherness. Griff took a pull off his drink and squelched a sigh. He knew the realities of marriage and commitment. They didn’t mean jack shit. He nudged Mason. “What time did you get in?”

“Late. Close to three this morning. I slept on the couch so I wouldn’t wake you up.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” he said softly. “It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen you. You were gone early, too. Running?”

“Yeah.”

Griff studied his partner, noted the new air of ease on his face. “You look rested, though. I think your vacation did you good.”

After nearly six years of constant clients, his partner had declared he’d needed a break. Clarissa and the Council agreed, and they’d been taken off the roster. Mason had taken the opportunity to hightail it to a fetish-themed destination resort where any and everything goes. He’d offered a ticket to Griff, but he’d refused it.

Instead, he spent the three months restless and in need but had not sought anyone out. There was no one in his life he could meet for a booty call, anyway. When Clarissa phoned with a new job, Griff found a relief he’d not been expecting.

“How was your trip to Pleasure Isles?” he asked his partner.

“It was awesome,” Mason said. “Lots of tits, ass, and more sex than one person could have. Even us.”

Griff raised his brow. “Really? I take it you accepted that challenge?”

“Hell yeah,” Mason said. His forehead furrowed, and he shifted on the couch. “Although, I did have an encounter that weirded me out.”

A wave of anxiety washed over him, but it dissipated quickly. Griff studied his partner with renewed interest. “That felt odd. What happened?”

Mason sipped at his soda. “It
was
damn odd. I hooked up with a Domme—tall, sleek, and a bottled-crazy redhead. I should have taken that warning to heart.”

Another shudder rippled over Mason and seeped into Griff. He studied his partner for a long silent moment, then gripped his thigh and gave a light squeeze. “Mace? Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Mason shrugged. “She was into some out-there shit. I mean, I like a good whipping as much as the next sub.”

Griff squeezed again. “Yes you do.”

Mason laughed. “Yeah, well, this was too much. She wouldn’t stop. If it hadn’t been for Noah and Madelyn, I think she would have flayed me alive. As it is, I still have stripes, and that was almost two weeks ago. Hell, if I still had a badge, I would have locked her ass up for assault.”

Griff’s breath caught, and he leapt up. “What? Let me see.”

“I’m fine,” Mason said and waved him back to the couch. “It’s nothing.”

“Show me anyway,” Griff growled.

Mason sighed and rose, turning and lifting his Polo in one motion.

Griff hissed at the faint but multiple red stripes littering Mason’s usually smooth back. He traced them with his fingertips, noted the trembling, and flattened his palms. “Fuck,” he said succinctly. “You’re certain you’re okay?” He used his best “don’t fucking lie to me” Dom voice, the tone Mason always responded to.

Mason pushed his shirt down and flopped back to the couch. “Yeah. Noah took care of me. Good thing he can speed up healing.” Mason met his gaze. Darkness shuttered the normally bright blue eyes. “I was
bleeding
. A lot.”

He wanted to find the bitch and rip her head off and shove it up her ass. Griff wanted to show her what real pain was. No one messed with the people he cared about. “What happened to her? What’s her name? Does the Council know?”

“I didn’t see her again after that. I think her name was Krista or something. Honestly, I didn’t pay much attention. She was hot and sexy. I could feel her passion. I just didn’t realize how tainted she was.” He curled his lip in disgust. “People like her give our community a bad name.”

“Yeah. So, the Council?”

“I haven’t said anything. Don’t know if maybe Noah or Madelyn did or not. Hell, I don’t even know where they are.”

“On assignment, as you two shall be shortly. Told us what?” The crisp, lightly British-accented voice came from the doorway.

Griff and Mason jumped to their feet.

“Hello, Clarissa. Looking lovely as always,” Griff said.

She flicked her long black hair off her shoulder and favored him with a no-nonsense stare. “Thank you.” She speared Mason with an arched glare. “We’ll be talking later, Mr. Shaw. For now, we’re ready to see you. This way.”

“So, what’s the word on the Scry?” Mason asked as they followed her down the hallway toward the Council room.

Clarissa waited at the double doors, and Griff reached around to open them for her. She smiled before resuming her normal, impassive expression.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she glided toward the long table. The seven Council members were congregated, talking in low, excited murmurs.

“Ladies and gentlemen, a little decorum, please.”

Esme scooted off the table and smiled widely. Large, luxurious waves of dark-brown hair bounced as she moved. She was the youngest and newest Council member, and she’d brought nearly as much energy to the board as Fi had to the ranks of the Enrichers. “Clarissa, love, dinna mash upon our excitement. ’Tis a grand day for us. Four new Enrichers in one year is nothing short of magic.”

The rest of the Council members nodded and offered low murmurs of agreement.

“I concur, Esme, but until he is here and properly vetted, I urge caution.” Clarissa winked, which nearly shocked Griff into gaping. “But yes, I rejoice as well.” She looked askance at him and Mason. “I have a feeling we’ll need more Enrichers in the coming months and years.”

What the hell does that mean?
Griff didn’t know, but he had an uneasy feeling she directed the comment at the pair of them. Hell, he had no intention of going anywhere. He was perfectly content with the status quo.

He loved helping people, he loved having sex, and he loved knowing he could count on his partner. Mason had never let him down. Unlike his ex-wife who’d turned into an addict and manipulator. The horror of what Anna had done still haunted him.

Griff shoved the past away. He wasn’t looking for love or permanency again. Why fix what wasn’t broken?

“Shall we get to business?” Clarissa said. She strode to the head table, popped open a briefcase, and withdrew a manila folder. She sat down and flipped through it. “Emma Haskins. An interesting case. Very interesting.”

Griffin lifted a brow. He’d not heard her use that term for a job in a long time. He shared a surprised glance with Mason. “Interesting how?”

The woman folded her hands on the table, covering the papers, and looked up at them over her half-moon glasses. She looked as prim and dour as a nun, though her occupation was far from pious.

“She’s completely untutored and curious. She has a wide-open interest in myriad, dark sexual disciplines.” Clarissa slung her jet-black, straight hair over her shoulder and leaned forward, black eyes piercing and intent. “No boundaries.”

Griff stilled, interest immediately flaring. “None?”

“No.” Clarissa sat back, one long fingernail tapping the file folder. “She is just emerging as an interested participant on the BDSM circuit, but she’s going about it haphazardly. Forum boards, chat rooms, online playgroups. You name it, she’s been there. Exposed, vulnerable, and eager to learn.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Mason asked. He lounged in front of the Council table, one lean hip propped casually against the ancient mahogany wood.

Griff stifled a grin at Clarissa’s pointed scowl and Mason’s answering wink. The man loved to tweak the nose of authority, Clarissa’s in particular.

“She’s perhaps too eager at this moment. Her requests for tutoring are bound to attract not only the wrong kind of attention, but perhaps a dangerous type. She has a real and true yen for the lifestyle, but she is in desperate need of guidance.”

She handed over a large, glossy photo.

Griff looked down. The young, studious woman staring back at him created a visceral response against his jeans. Her heart-shaped face, cascading chocolate hair, and luscious pink mouth projected a wholesome, girl-next-door image, but Griff saw the spark of sexual curiosity deep in her green eyes. He caught the not-quite-hidden hunger and eagerness she projected.

He handed it to Mason, who took it and whistled. “What a fox.”

Clarissa tsked. “Yes, she’s an attractive girl, but there is much more to her, and I’m assigning the two of you to show her the ropes.”

Griff chuckled. “Literally?”

Clarissa nodded. “If that is what it takes.” She leaned back, picked up a pen, and twirled it between her fingers, thumping the point on the table on every rotation.

A sense of unease rippled along Griff’s spine. “What’s with the look, Clarissa?”

Mason had shoved away from the table and stood at his shoulder, tension also emanating from him. “Something’s up. What is it?”

The elder sighed and rose gracefully. “You’ve been in service to the Council for more than six years as a team, and we appreciate your talents.” She gave them a smile that did little to appease his growing unease. “Dear ones, I know the heartaches you’ve faced these last few years, the emptiness you have struggled to fill.” She nodded toward the picture in Mason’s hand. “I think this woman could be exactly what you need.”

Griff clenched his fists as ice swept his veins. “We don’t need matchmaking, Clarissa. We’re Enrichers. She’s a job, nothing more.”

“That’s what Alec and Kade thought about Fi. Look how well they’re working out. And she opened more avenues to us, brought a fresh perspective to the Council,” Clarissa argued. “Who’s to say someone else, someone who is
not
magically enhanced, can’t do the same?”

Griff could not refute her point. Fi McGantry certainly had turned the Council on its ear, but in the best possible way. Since Alec and Kade took her as their lifemate—a concept once thought impossible for Enrichers—she’d found ways to challenge the old and steadfast traditions. In the two years since she’d arrived, Fi had cajoled the elders into reexamining the duties of the Enrichers, arguing they had needs and emotions of their own.

If a job was a job, fine. But if it blossomed into something deep and real, they should be allowed to explore the relationship. She’d also successfully integrated a new recruitment program for Enrichers to help replace those retiring upon finding their lifemates. With the sudden discovery of three—now four—new Enrichers, most of the Council and its employees felt she was blessed. Knowing her origins, Griff wondered if she’d made some kind of deal with the Goddess.