Mystical Mayhem (8 page)
Authors: Kiki Howell
Those left in the room started to clash again. He assumed this time it was more a fight of preservation, no more alliances, just the will of those few of Aiden’s shifters left hoping to live long enough to flee the cave. Even as fists hit bodies and bites were taken, some of those left in human form, some not, the special ops group herded the outsiders toward the mouth of the cave.
When the last of that twisted coven was gone, leaving only the CIA standing, the witch’s body crumpled to the ground. In an instant, he was released, running to Aiyanna, taking her in his arms, daring anyone to stop him as he turned to the room.
“We are all on the same side here now, man.” Brandon spoke as he went to Alexx. “The others are all gone in one way or another thanks to that dead witch. We lost a vampire though, off our side. He got caught in with one of the witch’s bolts of light when she was fighting the sorcerer.”
“Is he okay?” Xander asked, turning his attention a brief moment to where the sorcerer who had fought for him and Aiyanna still laid.
The man over him, a shifter himself, called to Alexx for help ensuring the sorcerer was still breathing.
Xander let out a breath of relief as he looked over Aiyanna, covering her nakedness as he went. Kissing her face, his own tears fell, ones of relief, of connection; their bodies and Spirits coming together, meshing like the bolts of the dead witch’s lights, only making the world a more brilliant, more white place, much like the snow covering it.
“I love you, Aiyanna,” Xander breathed into her ear. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Neither do we, man.” Brandon spoke again, standing over Alexx who was already tending to the wounded sorcerer. “If tonight proves nothing else, it proves our team needs you, Xander, you and Aiyanna. We need more people to help us. Together we can be a stronger force against enemies like those we faced tonight. Rogue groups of shifters and fairies and witches and vampires are uniting each day with only mayhem in mind. We are all so glad you have both decided to join us.”
“How are you here, man?” Xander finally asked, once he was satisfied that Aiyanna was fine. “You’re a vampire! The sun? Why are you not keeping us all warm as you burst into flames?”
“Something Alexx and I have been working on, a spell that lets me and…” Brandon left off looking over to a spot on the floor where there was nothing, not even a trace of a vampire having been there. “Sorry… he will be missed. Anyway, the spell lets a vamp be in the sun without frying. For you, brother, we gave it a test run today.”
“We can’t thank you all enough,” Aiyanna finally spoke. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“You would think it would get easier as much as we see of it, but it doesn’t and that is why we keep fighting as hard as we do, in hopes of granting this world a bit more peace each day.”
Xander looked at Aiyanna, his gorgeous Mate, her dark curls in disarray around her face making her look even more fiercely beautiful. A moment’s panic of what could have been, what could have happened to her took his breath away, and he let it. Together they were stronger. Yet, she had a strength within her all her own, a Spirit as fierce and dangerous and determined as her Dragon. Still, he would protect her with his last breath, and felt lucky to now have others who would do the same for both of them.
“You don’t even have to say it, babe. We’re alive. We’re together. And, we’re going where we are needed.” Aiyanna turned to Brandon then. “Do I have time to gather a few things and say goodbye to my people?”
“Sure,” Brandon nodded as well. “We can meet you at the plane in a few hours. It’s a private government jet. It rules the skies.”
“Help me get him up,” Alexx said to those around her, nodding her head toward the sorcerer who was thankfully moving again.
Once the team was gone, he watched as Aiyanna went to the witch’s dead body. No one had disposed of her with their concern over the sorcerer. Letting her go even a few steps away from him was hard at the moment, like ripping off his own arm and giving it away, but he knew she needed to say whatever was on her heart.
Kneeling by the witch, holding the blanket around her, she looked to Xander instead.
“She knew my father. I didn’t need anyone to tell me he was a great man, but all these years after his death, it was nice to hear. She finally saved us to pay him back. I mean I knew of her, but there was something else about her that called to me. I just didn’t know what it was. I guess now I can see her younger, see her on the reservation. Such a waste of a life, of gifts.”
Xander went to her as her tears fell.
“This is why we have to work with the special ops group. We can’t let this continue to happen.”
“I know, and we are going. But, we better get a move on if you want to say a proper goodbye to your people.”
“First, I want to take a proper moment, to say a proper good morning – well, good day now – to my Mate.”
Aiyanna took his face in her hands, pulling his mouth to hers, a crushing kiss letting him know how alive she was. She pushed against his body with her own. Her blanket having fallen away, she moved so she was naked on top of him. Her soft pussy lips gave way to the hardness of his erection. The wetness between her thighs, rubbed over his cock, bathing the ache he felt, massaging his desire with the proof of her hot passion.
She moved her mouth to his neck, her kisses more bites, making the animals in him growl, want for dominance, but she overpowered them with the fierceness of her own needs, the power in her letting her hands bind his wrists to the ground over his head. Xander gave into it, the holding back igniting a juxtaposition to supremacy, just as powerful a high, within him.
It was a blessed miracle too, he found, as she sat up, crawled over him still on her knees, until she had her center, her sex, open in invitation, above his face. A sexy circle of her hips was all he could take, although he wanted to stare at the beauty of her dark, glistening folds forever. Letting his tongue move in between them, taking in the scent of her, the taste of her, both spicy and sweet, both completely woman.
Above him she writhed as his tongue darted inside her, flicked over her clit, lapped at her folds. Her ecstasy shot through him, building upon his own, the sudden feeling of being able to move mountains if she was near bringing his hands up to her thighs, lifting her above him until he could slide his tongue to rim her ass.
With his strength at an all time high, he turned her, setting her down in a straddle over his chest and moving her down to his cock. With a lift of her hips now, he settled her over his erection. Her inner walls immediately gripped him tight. Grabbing her ass, which was a beautiful sight facing him, he took her juices, used them to slide a finger easily into her ass. Her body jerked, a turbulent motion, revving his own engines to high-speed. As she shattered around him, he exploded into her.
They made their own earthquake shake the cave, one that rattled everything in their wake. Still trembling, still feeling aftershocks of their dual orgasms, he lifted her, turned her again, placed her back on the blanket. He fell onto her, wrapped his arms around her full curves, pulled her softness into his hard body, With limbs in a tangle, he rolled them, kissing her, claiming her again.
“I love you, Aiyanna. Out there, I will die to protect you. Always.”
“I know. I feel the same way.”
After gathering a few of Xander’s things, he shifted into the Chimera as he felt her call to her Dragon. To his surprise, and from what he could feel, hers too, she and her Dragon became one without peril awaiting her. Together they flew out of the cave toward her reservation and then on to their new life to fight the mystical mayhem that was taking over, dividing, the country they both loved.
About The Author
Ever since she was young, Kiki Howell has loved to listen to a well-woven tale with real characters, inspired plots, and delightful resolutions.
Kiki spent hours lost in books and soon knew creating lives, loves, and losses with just words had to be the greatest thing she could do.
She’s now had over twenty stories published and couldn’t be more thrilled or grateful to see her creations polished and out in the real world.
Kiki Howell
~where love is a mystical thing~
Please visit
http://www.kikihowell.com
to see all available titles!
http://www.facebook.com/kikihowell
http://authorsbyauthors.blogspot.com
Coming Soon from Naughty Nights Press
The Vampire’s Human – At War in the Willows – Book Three
Mystical Mayhem
Also Available
by Kiki Howell
The Vampire’s Witch - At War In the Willows - Book One
Love, Creativity and Magic - A Steampunk Valentine’s Day Tale
Snowed In
Sacred Sex
Working Out The Kinks
The Sum of All, (co-authored with Emma Hillman)
A Questionable Hero
Torn Asunder
A Strange Freedom: Blood & Fireworks
The Witches Beast
The Healing Spell
Kiki Howell's Short Stories in Multi-Author Anthologies
*Erotic* Reinventing the Quickie, The Diary of Sam in the Spontaneous Liaisons Anthology by Naughty Nights Press
*Erotic* Midnight Showing in the Wicked and Wanton All Hallow's Eve Anthology by Naughty Nights Press
*Erotic* Love & Marriage Cures, in the Happy Ending Anthology by Excessica Publishing
Samhain’s Visitors, in Just Another Paranormal Halloween Anthology by Mojocastle Press
Hero of the Waves, in the Hope Ocean Anthology by Hedge Witchery Book
The Werewolf Spell, in the Silver Moon, Bloody Bullets: An Anthology of Werewolf Tails by Pill Hill Press
*Erotic* Beltane’s Guide, in the Four Seasons: Spring 2009 Anthology by Excessica Publishing
*Erotic* Spirit, Yet To Come, in the Four Seasons: Winter 2009 Anthology by Excessica Publishing
An Irish Halloween, in the Happy Halloween! A Treat For The Whole Family Anthology by Dancing With Bear Publishing
Titles available from the NNP eStore, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, All Romance Ebooks, Smashwords and many other retailers.
***
Chapter One
Rage carried Isaac from California back to Tennessee at a fevered speed even for a vampire. The night curled in around him, but not as the embrace it usually was. Instead, tonight, it was like a dense fog, which seemed to strangle him. He couldn’t say he was going home, even though that was where his families were. Both of them, or at least, what was left of them. Home meant a place that welcomed, sheltered, and yet he’d had no choice but to run from The Willows. Even now, several years later, he would have to be careful while staying with his vampire family that his real family never saw him. For all his birth family knew, he’d gone missing a decade ago. Hopefully they thought him dead—an accurate conception for all intensive purposes.
The voice of his maker’s maker, Achim, a man he viewed as a grandfather now, echoed in his head. Drake, Isaac’s maker, was dead, staked outside the business he’d run.
The Willows
was to the mortals a peaceful, beautiful resort area in the mountains of Tennessee, full of sun and water and trails in the summer, which switched to snowboarding and skiing in the winter, everything a tourist could want. His clan had moved there a few years before he was made. While vampires were transient, forced to always keep moving every few decades or so by the fact mortals started to question why they never aged, resort towns were perfect to keep the questions low with so many people always coming and going. Plus, these types of places provided them jobs running the always-active nightlife.
Clans of werewolves and witches had already been in
The Willows
when his clan had arrived. Until tonight, the clans had basically kept apart, recognized and peacefully accepted their hatred for each other. They worked together, amicable enough in public, but that was where it ended. Tonight, his vampire sister, Amberlyn, had thought it wise to reveal her love for the werewolf, Kane, of all given creatures. A verbal battle between vamps and werewolves at the cove had turned violent and deadly. A young witch who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, had been killed by a shot that had been fired after a werewolf had staked to death Amberlyn’s and Isaac’s maker, Drake. While the wolf and vamp clans had all but declared war, the witches were already threatening their own special sort of revenge. All of this had happened in the matter of three cursed hours. Now, he was nearly there just a few hours away from sunrise.
Isaac, even in life, had been one to kick ass and ask questions later. As he entered
The Willows
– the place eerily quiet – a chill, more pervasive than it should be for a spring night in these parts, snaked down his back as he approached the group of houses where most of the witches lived.
“Blessed wenches,” he grumbled into the air. And, he meant that in an angry, jealous and missed the sun type of way. Witches got to have special abilities and easily blend into society as mere mortals. His boot crushed the yellows, pinks and whites of the spring flowers, which decorated the first lawn he’d come to. They represented spring fever and love, and he relished their demise under his boots.
“Fuckin’ Amberlyn!” Isaac had never gotten to know his sister much, except through a few visits when her, Drake, and Drake’s maker, Achim with his wife, Willa, had come to visit him in Los Angeles.
Someone was going to pay for Drake’s death. Isaac wasn’t going to be picky either. Whatever witch he came across first would do for information, then possibly revenge depending on how things went down. Revenge was his job in California, and he was very good at it. Tonight though, he hadn’t thought his plan of attack all the way through yet.
His thoughts were still more on what he’d lost tonight. After Isaac had been made, Drake had left
The Willows
with Isaac, stayed with him, mentored him, became a real father to replace the human one he could no longer see. Isaac pushed the memories aside, squashed them with anger-laced pain. First things first, before that damn strong sun around here rose, some random witch was going to give him answers about what they had planned. He would go for the werewolves tomorrow night after he had a planning session with Amberlyn and Achim. Isaac had promised them that over the phone. No one had said a damn word about the witches. Being one of the new temporary leaders of the clan now – as one of those closest in bloodline to Drake – he had a job to protect the other vamps.
With strength and speed, he broke into the house. There was no lock or doorknob around that could keep him out if he wanted in. The broken door, the briefest scream of a woman startled out of sleep, were all but seconds, and he was gone. With a hand over the scared-frozen woman’s mouth just in case, he erred on the side of caution somewhat, even though she wouldn’t realize what had happened to her. He ran through the woods with her in his arms at speeds that made her world blur.
He came to a stop when he reached the abandoned cave, now secretly furnished with a man-made room deep inside it where no mortal would dare roam. Drake had lived there, a home away from the one he claimed to live in, in town. Achim had told Isaac he could stay there safely out of sight for as long as he needed to be in
The Willows
. He used the code to get inside.
Once the door had shut and bolted behind him, he threw the witch on the leather couch, wondered what magic she could possess to have shocked his whole body just from holding her. Something about the electric sensation that burned through his veins felt familiar, calmed and energized at the same time. It was the first time since he’d been turned that he’d felt, well, secure of all damn things. It was almost too foreign of an emotion to recognize. If he didn’t know better, he would say it felt like something he remembered from home, from the last time he was here, the night he died. Stupid, but seriously undeniable still, like something long ago but never forgotten, always longed for even if pushed from one’s mind. And, on tonight of all nights, the whole idea of home was insane. He’d just lost the one person who’d ever given him any sense of the word since becoming a vampire. Security had now become an even more vague concept than it had ever been before, a concept he would think upon only when in a piss-poor mood about the loss of his cushy childhood and all-too-soon-gone days of being a carefree young man.
The feeling had to have something to do with being in Drake’s home. That had to be it. Although he’d only been here once before, that dreadful night he’d been turned and a few nights following, until Drake had thought he was strong enough to travel to California and start a new life there. Secure wasn’t a word he’d use to describe those first nights he’d spent as a vamp, but the place was Drake’s still. He could sense him here in a way.
The witch must have been beyond terrified from her journey, because she stared at him with her big green eyes that sparkled with gold, even in the dim lights. Of course she would be afraid. Beyond the whole kidnapping thing, he didn’t let many people see him. He worked shady jobs at night, in the wrong parts of town, where a half-disfigured face like his got him street cred, warranted fear, and got the job done with little problem. He was one scary son of a bitch, or son of a vamp. He had used it to his advantage, but he wasn’t sure how much good it would do him with this chick.
“Wasting my breath probably by saying this, but don’t be scared.” He pulled the hood he always wore over the side of his scared face, turned away from her at the same time. “I just want answers. Give them too me, and I’ll return you to your bed. Do it quickly, and I can get you there before the sun rises.” He pointed to his watch. “But, time is ticking. What are the witches planning for retaliation again the werewolf and vampire clans for what happened tonight?”
She just sat there, her red curls wind-blown from her unexpected trip, like a fire raging around her beautiful features, the ones he was losing the battle at ignoring. Against her flaming locks her pale skin glowed, everything about her sparkled. Something in his cold body warmed, unexpected, and as welcomed as it was forcefully, obediently, rejected. Slowly her legs curled up under her, hidden a bit more by her nightdress. The damn thing was sheer, of course, thin strapped, a sunny, golden color, appropriate to sheath such a bright – okay hot – woman as she was.
Fuckin’ stop it! What the hell with the thoughts? Is this some sort of magic she’s using on me already? Damn it all! What the hell is she staring at?
She was under his skin, possessed him, some goddamned fucking way, and it needed to stop.
Yes. That had to be it. Possession.
He had to wonder though if it was really possible as she sat there, her arms around her body. She curled into the corner of the couch, stared at him like he was some sort of angelic being, like he mesmerized her rather than feared him like most did in his presence as if he was mere devil’s spawn.
Of course, it has to be part of some spell. What else? She doesn’t need a wand or words. These witches are wicked with mind control.
He’d fight fire with fire if he only had the mind to at the moment.
What the fuck?
“If you’re using magic, you need to stop it now!” he yelled, finally made his thoughts vocal, but they’d come out more like a muffled roar. The witch emasculated him. She literally had him by the balls with her magic, and he wouldn’t have it. His fangs came out, his face tense.
She jumped, and he bit back the apology that came unasked for by her and un-welcomed by him.
“You’re alive,” she finally spoke, words so faint he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.
“What?” he barked back, the tone of it far less than he’d planned it to be. He huffed.
“The last time I saw you. You were in that accident…that horrible, horrendous car accident.” She shook her head, her eyes closed tight. He wondered if she tried to recall a moment or shut out a memory. “They used magic…They tried to… I tried to… I didn’t know what happened to you, if they were successful…or I was. Then that vampire, he just took you. Oh My Goddess!”
Her hand went over her mouth a second, then dropped again. “That vampire was Drake! Your maker… that’s why you’re here. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
He shook his head then, his fangs shortened.
Sorry for my loss? Was she for real?
“What are you talking about? My accident? You remember it?” He actually shook his head again tried to focus in on a lot of words that, as he understood them, made no sense. Not a damnable drop of sense. “Yes, Drake’s dead. That’s why I got you. I just need information about what the witches are planning in retaliation. In exchange I’ll return you safely.”
“I wish I had it to give, the information you seek, that is.” Her legs unfurled then long and shapely. He wondered how anyone’s skin could look so pale and so warm at the same time. In this light, her coloring made her sparkle like a fairy. She tugged what she could of the golden silk nightgown over her thighs. His body came alive even more so than it had when he’d had her in his arms. This time what burned through his veins was pure lust. It had to be. Definitely a feeling he could identify with. But, question was, had she caused it? This ache within him to hold her, to claim her, to drink her blood, which was probably honey sweet. He could smell it as it flowed under her skin. At first in a furious rush of adrenaline, at moments it slowed down a bit, and then it moved along fast again seconds later.
And yet, he felt he was the one with blood which rushed through his veins, more like when he had been a human. His whole body was turned on so much that he felt like a damn bee who buzzed around a queen bee in her hive. He contemplated the sting just to be able to touch her.
“You grabbed the wrong witch, I’m afraid,” she stated, calmly, softly, after the silence he’d let ensue. She blew his mind. He really didn’t know what to make of her. His face, his fangs, none of it scared her. Instead she came at him with concern.
What is wrong with her?
“I’m really somewhat of an outcast,” she continued as if she’d read his mind.
You never could trust a witch. A master at mind games, the whole compulsion thing going for him, today he seemed to sit on the bench, hand her over the win.
“I don’t like to play with magic like most of them do,” she shook her head slightly as she spoke, gave him a half-smile, one shy and demure. “I don’t shrug off the moral laws just because I have the power to easily do so. So, I’m told little by my clan. If they didn’t need my powers, I swear they wouldn’t even invite me to their circles half the time. I know though that your kind, the wolves too, they need to be on alert. They had a meeting before bed, one of their planning sessions that never amount to anything good. And, this time they were hurt and angry beyond what I’ve seen them be in a long time. I wasn’t invited, but I can only imagine what was said there.”
Isaac took a few steps toward her. She didn’t even flinch.
Is she that confident in her abilities against me? Is she not scared by or even grossed out by my disfigured face?
He fell to his knees on the floor at her feet. He’d heard of necromancy, it’s use – how it let witches control vampires, made them do their will. What buzzed through him, made him want her, made him feel like he knew her? He had to find it’s source and stop it. It didn’t make sense anyway. Why would a goddess like her want a monster like him to want her so badly? She knew he was a vamp.
Surely she isn’t trying to get attacked and drained?
Or, does she have a fuckin’ death wish?
She’s said she didn’t fit in, but she didn’t seem to care about the fact at the same time.
Trying to get back to the most essential point at the moment, he knew if he could block the magic, find it and stop it – and usually he was good at sensing such things – he could glamour her into giving him, or getting him if what she said was true, the information he needed. The first signs of day sleep were hit him, didn’t help his predicament at all, or keep his mind sharp and clear.
“What are you doing to me?” he tried to hiss, but it came out like he was pleading, breathy and whiny, and it would’ve infuriated him if he could find where he’d misplaced his anger. It was like he dropped the damned emotion when he’d picked her up.
