Tegan's Return (The Ultimate Power Series #2) (18 page)

 His hand slips under my t-shirt to grip onto my bare skin. I try to form a coherent thought, but all I can focus on is his well-practised hand as it touches me.

 “You forget that we operate on different clocks, Ethan,” I finally manage to get out. “Unlike you, I don't sleep all day long.”

 “I might not have slept all day, if you had stayed. I might have woken and given you a repeat performance of last night.” His hands wander to my jeans where he releases the top button and pulls down the fly. “Perhaps I'll do that now. I don't think I've ever had a woman on this desk before.”

 His words remind me of the fact that he normally takes his one night stands on the leather couch over in the corner. I glare at the offending item of furniture and place my hands on Ethan's arms to push him back. “I'm not going to be one of your office jump offs, sorry.” I mutter.

 Ethan releases his hold on me, his dark blue eyes study me intensely. “I would never consider you in that way. I apologise if that is how it came across.”

 “It's alright. I'm just a bit touchy at the moment.”

 “You don't regret having spent the night with me, do you?” Ethan asks, his face showing some level of hurt.

 I blush. “Of course not, last night was...well let's just say it's been replaying itself in my head all day. It's just that I've got other worries on my mind right now.”

 Ethan steps close to me, positioning himself again between my legs. He runs his hand over the outside of my thigh. “Would you like me to help you to relieve the worry somewhat?” he breathes, his hand tracing dangerous circles between my legs. I let out a heavy breath and try to gain some composure.

 Sputtering a nervous cough, I reply, “Um, yes, but not in the way you have in mind.”

 Ethan's exploring hand pauses. “Oh. In what way then?”

 I bring my eyes to meet his. “I had an um, friend of mine do a little digging around. She found out that my dad is being kept somewhere in Freemont Park. I was wondering if you would like to help me search for him.”

 Ethan's eyes consume me. “A friend Tegan? Who is this friend and how could she have discovered where your father is when I have been unable to do so even with the best contacts in the city?”

 His suspicion makes my heart thump. “She might have used magic to do it,” I reply in the smallest voice imaginable.

 Ethan's hand grips tightly onto my leg now, pulling me forward just a little. “You have been associating with the North siders?” He questions forcefully. Gulp. If only he knew the extent to which I have been associating with them. Oh God. Why didn't I keep my stupid mouth shut?

 “Not exactly. I have a witch friend, but she's an outcast. She doesn't live or communicate with the magical families. In fact, she's sort of their enemy, so you've got a lot more in common with her than you think.” In my head I'm praying that he'll accept this explanation.

 Ethan visibly relaxes. “Was she rejected by her family for some reason? Which one does she belong to?”

 “Um, I don't know. She was sort of the result of a one night stand, so she doesn't know who her father was.” Of course, I'm lying now, but no way am I going to tell Ethan that Theodore fathered a daughter whose magical talents might just surpass those of the magical families.

 “Interesting. This wouldn't happen to be the witch whose name I believe is Rita who banished Theodore into a hell dimension would it?” Ethan asks shrewdly. Damn, I'd forgotten that Ethan and Rita had met. All of the recent drama is turning my brain into mush.

 “It might be.”

 “And is this the unnamed friend you have been staying with? I had assumed it was the blond woman who you first came to the club with.”

 “No, that's Nicky. She's living with her new girlfriend and I didn't want to impose myself on them. So yeah, I've been staying with Rita.” Finn, Gabriel, Alvie and Noreen too.

 “She is a very powerful witch. But you say she is an outcast, why is that?”

 “As I said, she's not an official member of the magical families. I don't think they know just how powerful she is.”

 “Do you think she would consider coming and working for me? I would pay her handsomely, and it would be a huge advantage to have a witch on my staff.”

 I shift away from Ethan a little, not liking how he always seems to be plotting in his head. Figuring out ways to make himself more powerful in the politics of this city.

 “I don't think she would agree to that Ethan. Rita likes being her own woman.”

 “Even so, mention it to her the next time you see her.”

 “I'm not your messenger, and there's no point because I know she wouldn't agree. Besides, I thought you'd just about subdued the North side and that Pamphrock was going to accede defeat any day now?”

 “That is true, but it would always be useful to have an ally with magical skills should the North try to take back what it has lost.” Ethan stops talking and gazes at me indulgently. “Wars are not as clean cut as you would like to think Tegan,” he traces a finger along my jaw. “Sometimes I forget just how young you are, and how little you know about our world. Yes there are winners and losers in wars, but there are always loose ends, and even when the victors emerge they cannot relax, they must continue to fight to keep what they have won.”

 I shake off the tremble that his touch provokes. “I guess. Look I'll mention it to Rita, but only if you help me look for my dad tonight. Deal?”

 Ethan grins victoriously. “Deal.”

 We drive around the area of Freemont Park in Ethan's Cadillac. It's mostly residential houses around here, very scenic and leafy with lots of tall trees lining the long avenues. I have no clue how I'm going to figure out where exactly my dad is, as there are hundreds of similar houses. Perhaps I should be looking for a whited-out window with bars on the inside. But that window had been tiny, it would be far too difficult to spot. Furthermore, I have no idea where on the building the window is located. It could be in the basement or even in the attic, there's just no telling.

 Ethan reaches over and takes my hand into his, stroking my inner wrist with his thumb. I lean into him, resting my head on his solid shoulder. Some low, relaxing song is streaming from the radio.

 “We can continue driving, if you'd like,” Ethan says soothingly, “but I'm afraid we won't find many clues that way. Do you want to get out and walk around? Perhaps we might see someone or find something that will lead us to your father.”

 I nod and straighten up. Ethan's calming touch had almost sent me off to sleep. I need to focus on the mission at hand. Ethan parks the car and we get out, but he comes around to my side and takes my hand into his again. It's quiet out, and dark. The soft yellow light of lamp shades glow from behind the curtains of the various living rooms we pass by.

 Everything seems so normal. You would never guess that a man was being kept a prisoner against his will in one of these oh so pleasant homes. We continue our walk in silence. Ethan stops to glance about every couple of minutes, as though trying to sense what we're looking for.

 “I forgot to mention,” says Ethan, breaking the silence. “Jeremy has organised for his party to take place tomorrow night. I would come and pick you up myself, but since you are staying on the North side, perhaps you would like to come to my home and we can leave together from there.”

 I'd been so consumed with thinking about my dad that I almost forgot about Whitfield's party. I don't have a clue what's going to happen, especially since Pamphrock and his slayers are apparently planning a rescue mission as we speak. So maybe the party won't happen at all. Or maybe I'll get caught up in some fiasco should they happen to try and make their move while I'm there. I swallow painfully.

 “Sure, I can do that. What's the dress code?”

 Ethan grins. “Formal, of course. I know you prefer to dress casually, but I can organise something for you if you don't own anything suitable.”

 “No that's fine, I'm sure I have something decent.”

 “Good.” He glances down at me then. “I can't wait to dance with you. Would you like to stay in my house after the party?”

 I shiver. I'm definitely not against the idea of spending another night with Ethan, but if he finds out that I had something to do with helping save Rebecca then he might not want to see my face ever again.

 “I might.” I answer mysteriously. Whether or not I get to enjoy a night with Ethan again all depends on what happens with Pamphrock.

 “Then I will hope,” he replies, giving my hand a small squeeze, and when I look up into his eyes they seem hungry. Perhaps not for my blood though.

 At this I feel a fizzing sensation run through my body, and it's got nothing to do with the effect Ethan's having on me. It's sort of similar to the time when I'd made the fork levitate in Finn's kitchen. Has something somehow awakened my magic again? With every new step that I take the sensation increases, almost to the point where I feel like I'm physically vibrating with unknown energy.

 Ethan glances down at me. “Are you alright, Tegan?” he asks.

 “I – I feel sort of funny,” I answer, placing a hand to my stomach, because the fizzing is now culminating in that area.

 Ethan stops walking and puts his arms around me, eyes roaming over my body as though checking that everything is okay. The fizzing pops and crackles inside of me. It's vibrating through my skin and organs like invisible bubbles. The feeling weakens me at the knees and I falter, but Ethan holds me in his firm grasp so that I don't fall to the ground.

 I'm vaguely aware of a red van that's been sitting parked on the other side of the road. I can't concentrate on it too much because the fizzing is overwhelming. All of a sudden the engine starts up and the van casually pulls away from the curb and drives off down the road. Ethan has his hand pressed to my forehead now, checking my temperature.

 “You're burning up,” he observes.

 I swallow and try to find my bearings. The fizzing is beginning to subside in a startling rush. In my head I'm imagining a stream of fizzy Coke splashing harshly into a cool glass, filling up the glass and emptying out of the bottle. I am the bottle, and right now it feels so very good to be emptied. I want the fizzy bubbles out of me immediately. My magic both confuses and frightens me, and I'm just not ready to contemplate what it all means.

 My head is foggy for a moment. Then I wonder if the drifting away of the fizzing sensation had anything to do with the departure of that red van. No, it must have been a coincidence. What could a red van have to do with awakening the magic inside of me? I suppose that all depends on
who
had been inside the van.

 Frantically, I think,
we have to follow it
, but my realisation has come all too slowly and the vehicle has long since disappeared from sight. I push away from Ethan just a small bit.

 “I'm okay,” I tell him. “I'm just a little bit faint. I haven't had much to eat today.” Surely that excuse will suffice. I mean, Ethan did live through the days when delicate young ladies would swoon and faint at anything even vaguely discomforting.

 He gazes down at me, a hint of disapproval in his dark eyes. “You should always ensure that you have eaten,” he scolds and then sighs. “What am I going to do with you Tegan?” There is a gleam of mischief in his eyes now, as well as some kind of intent. I struggle to breathe as my stomach turns over on itself at the thoughts of the things that Ethan might do with me. Some of them he already demonstrated last night.

 In an effort to stop myself from completely succumbing to his charms, I retort, “Stop telling me what to do. I'll eat when I want to. I think you might be a little bit too used to bossing around your employees at the club.”

 He pulls me close and rests his hand on the curve of my lower back. “You know,” he whispers, “you submit rather sweetly when you're in my bed. It's surprising judging from the way you continually persist in challenging me everywhere else.”

 My mouth gapes open. His words make me want to melt in his arms and slap him across the face simultaneously. Ethan's laugh resonates somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach, causing butterflies to flit all about. I can't look at him right now, and my eyes fall to my feet as a blush warms my cheeks.

 He lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You are quite brave for one so timid. Don't hide your eyes from me, they are the most beautiful thing about you, and that's saying something,” he stops and lets his gaze touch on each area of my body. “Because there is nothing about you that isn't simply exquisite.”

 
You only think that because of my blood
, my subconscious spits out. But I don't voice the thought. Maybe I'm being foolish, but I want to pretend. If only for a small time before I have to leave again, that this beautiful vampire genuinely thinks that I am beautiful too. I know I'm not though. I'm hard and broken, and that is all.

 “You shouldn't say things like that to me,” I say quietly.

 Ethan frowns. “Why not?”

 “Because it makes me want something I can never have.” Okay, I'm such an idiot, and I hate the tears and self-pity that are catching in my throat.

 “Oh, and what might that be?” he asks, his eyes are big and probing now.

 I shrug and blink away the tears. I don't want to give Ethan the satisfaction of knowing that not being able to have him properly makes me sad.