This Wicked Magic (33 page)

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Certainly stirred and felt the warmth against his back. He knew immediately it was Vika lying beside him. He wasn’t sure if she was awake, so didn’t move.

He was back. Alive. Free. All he’d hoped for was peace. Perhaps now he would have it.

Soft lips kissed a trail down his spine. “Did you have a good rest?”

He rolled to his back, and her hand slid over his chest and down his abs. He felt a familiar stirring, and his erection hardened. He had stripped off his bloodstained jeans before collapsing in an exhausted heap on the bed, and the sheet covered him to the hips.

“Yes. How long did I sleep?”

“Most of the afternoon.”

“And you stayed the whole time?”

“I did some cleaning. Not much. And don’t worry, I didn’t mess with your spell stuff, though I did snoop a little.”

“Find anything interesting?”

“Your expertise in magic dazzles me, dark one. I want to learn from you. Will you teach me?”

“The dark stuff?”

“I think so. While I’ve chosen to only practice the light, I think knowledge on the dark can only make me more rounded and to see beyond more than my viewpoint.”

“I would love to teach you.” He took her hand and kissed it, then placed it over his erection. “But not right now, for you are the Purveyor of Hard-Ons. If not a little cool. You in a hurry to get your soul back, or can we...?”

“We’re not going anywhere until this guy—” she gave his cock a squeeze through the sheets, and CJ groaned at the teasing move “—sees some action. I should check it out, make sure he survived the strenuous journey to...that place.”

“You probably should.”

She sat up and tugged down her dress sleeves, her hair spilling liquidly over her soft skin.

Certainly said, “Allow me.” He gestured at her dress and invoked transprojectionary dislocation, which pulled down the zipper at her back and slid the fabric to a puddle at her hips to reveal her tight, rosy nipples. “My magic is stronger and faster now the infestation has been exorcised.”

“You can do this with anyone?” she asked with a cautionary tone and a lift of brow. “Strip them?”

“Of course, but I’ll only use it on you. Promise.”

“Your promises are made to be broken.”

“Only with your permission.”

“Fair enough. Can you...move anything else around?”

He quirked a brow, taking her tease for the challenge it was. “Let’s see what comes up.”

After a few flicks of his fingers and a “Lero,” CJ raised his hand and lifted Vika from the bed. She startled initially but quickly relaxed, allowing his magic to move her body. Sitting cross-legged, she hovered over his hips, the fabric of her dress dusting his thighs.

“Oh, this could be dangerous.” Tugging off her dress, she put down her knees to straddle him. “Should I let you do all the work?”

“Yes. I’ve never tried this before. Let’s see how well I do.”

Another flick of his fingers pulled the sheet away from his torso and legs. His cock, hot and furious for her enveloping heat, sprang up against Vika’s mons. She reached for it, but he reminded her he was doing it all, so she relented, placing her hands akimbo.

“A little warm-up, I think,” he said, and gestured his forefinger up and down in a come-hither movement.

Vika tilted her head and moaned satisfaction. The sensation of touch landed on her clitoris; he directed it softly, evenly and then firmer. “Oh, yes, right there. I can’t believe you can do that. Oh...Certainly.”

“It’s not as satisfying as actually touching you,” he said, “but I do seem to have a talent for this.” A twist of his finger and she bit her lip, spreading her legs wider in a brazen pose.

“You wet for me, lover?”

She nodded, lost in the pleasure of his invisible touch.

With a lift of his hand, he raised her body a few inches over his cock, and then slowly, gently, lowered her onto him. He hissed and swore as she enveloped him, as if entering a fiery, squeezing tunnel. Reaching back to clutch her ankles, Vika allowed him to control her, moving her body slowly up and down, and he in turn, pistoning his hips upward, rocking in and out. He wanted to touch her, to pull her to him, and—screw it, the magic was fun, but he needed the real thing.

Sitting up, Certainly spread his hands up Vika’s back and bent to kiss her breasts. She pulled her fingers through his hair, slipping it over her mouth, and all the while they rocked together, joining, feeling one another, bonding.

“Blessed goddess, I’ve never felt such a connection to another person like this before,” Vika said. “You own me, Certainly Jones.”

“I don’t want to own you. Well, maybe your heart.”

“You have all of me.” She tilted his chin up to kiss his mouth. “I am yours. And you are mine. I’ve claimed you. If you don’t like it, then try and stop me.”

“I like it fine.”

He clutched her derriere, rammed himself deep within her and then surrendered to a shuddering orgasm. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, bruising the flesh as she cried out. This wicked magic belonged to them, and only them. And he would protect it, heart and soul.

Chapter 30

T
he threesome stood out in the garden behind the round white house in the center of the fourth arrondissement, under a full moon. Night jasmine perfumed the air, and lightning bugs stitched flickering hems through the darkness. The red witch ball gleamed with a captured butterfly soul, casting soft crimson light over the heliotrope petals.

The faery-tale evening gave Vika a surprising shiver as the breeze tickled her bare shoulders and brushed the loose hair across her back. She and Libby had dressed elegantly, she in tight-fitted black satin, segueing to black lace at her knees and angled to her heels. Libby wore curve-hugging purple, and she’d stuck rhinestone pins in her hair, which glittered with captured moonlight.

Oddly, CJ must have been feeling the same grand mien, as he’d appeared at their front door clad in dark trousers and shirt and a damask vest threaded through with silver. He looked a marvel, and it was all Vika could do not to clasp his hand and imagine them walking down the garden aisle to some greater connection that would bond them through life.

Perhaps someday they would exchange vows with one another. She would like that very much.

She and her sister spoke little while following CJ’s instructions, as their giddy expectations took away their breath. Yet at the same time, they were unwilling to get too excited over the prospect of their returned souls. They might not be able to invoke the soul bringer. And if they did? What’s to say his own soul would prove of value to him?

“Let’s join hands,” CJ directed. The threesome formed a circle before a crop of queen’s lace, directly below a beam of moonlight glistening on the flagstone tiles. “Follow my lead, and weave in your own vocal magic to strengthen the summons.”

He began to hum, which grew to a chant of nonsense syllables, yet it didn’t matter it was not words. It was the tone and intention behind them.

Vika found a chant and wove it into CJ’s, squeezing Libby’s hand briefly when her sister also joined them at a higher, dulcet tone.

The vibrations of their intent shivered through Vika’s body, and she knew they three shared the incredible volume of magic their voices created. It felt wondrous and vast. An edge of darkness rimmed the tones; CJ’s contribution. A glimmer of gaiety splashed the sound with vibrant colors; that was Libby’s doing. And holding it all together, Vika rounded the song and expanded it into the universe.

The power of three could not be disregarded. And with their grandmother’s magic to bind it well, nothing could stop them.

And in the center of their circle appeared Reichardt.

They dropped hands and stepped back, giving the soul bringer space as he looked about, summing up what had happened. With a stern glance to Libby before he lifted his head imperiously, he then grunted out, “What now?”

Vika watched Libby try to contain her glee, hands clasping over her heart and eyes going dewy, but with a shake of her head, her sister nodded and dropped her hands to her sides, assuming as much calm neutrality as she was able.

“I want to offer a trade,” CJ said to Reichardt, “for the sisters’ souls.”

“Yours?” Reichardt posited with interest.

Vika’s heart thundered. She raked her fingers at her thighs.

“No, yours.” CJ reached behind him and grabbed the halo he’d tucked at the back of his pants. He held it gripped in both hands, just out of the soul bringer’s reach.

Reichardt didn’t move to touch it, nor did he exhibit the slightest increase in interest. “You’ve been industrious, dark witch.”

“Two trips to Daemonia is enough for me,” CJ replied. “But well worth it if you agree to the exchange.”

“I’ve no use for a soul. That bit of tin is worthless to me.”

“But you could—” With a castigating look from CJ, Libby cut off her protest. She nodded and looked aside, avoiding eye contact with her infatuation.

“Soul bringer, I realize you have walked this earth for millennia,” CJ said. “Your life consists of ferrying souls. Back and forth. Up and down. Day and night. Ever the same. No need for connection, for conversation, for...cookies.”

Vika pressed her lips together, preventing a smile. Her man knew all the right things to say.

“And should you accept this soul you would become a mere mortal,” CJ continued. “Pitiful condition, if you ask me. Unable to remember your life as a psychopomp, visiting the gates to Above, yet never being allowed entrance through them. Stomping on the steps before Beneath, getting but a glimpse of devastation. It all means little to you, because your heart is glass.”

“Exactly,” Reichardt answered as means to put an end to the ridiculous offer. He glanced Libby’s way.

Libby lifted her eyes, and they absolutely glittered at Reichardt. A deep blush rosed her cheeks, as well.

Work it, Vika thought. They needed all the help they could get.

“You cannot understand the concept of having one care for you,” CJ continued. “Though, let me tell you, it is like nothing on this realm.” He glanced to Vika, and winked. “Of knowing should you gain mortality, you would be loved.”

Reichardt tilted his head, and while he was attempting to not look at Libby, Vika saw he failed. Some interest there. But was it enough?

“No,” the soul bringer said abruptly, and dematerialized from within their circle.

A whoosh of cold air crept over their shoulders. Libby grasped the air before her. CJ dropped his hand, the halo brushing his thigh.

“No,” Libby gasped.

Vika could feel her sister’s disillusionment. Not only had she lost her soul, but as well she’d lost her heart to the cold, emotionless man. Talk about unrequited love.

Just as Vika summoned a consolation and went to embrace her sister, the soul bringer reappeared.

“Yes,” Reichardt said. “I agree to the exchange.” He winked at Libby.

Winked.

Libby clutched Vika’s hands and tittered on her feet.

“Excellent.” CJ gestured Vika and Libby stand beside one another. “Return their souls, and then you can have yours.”

“Very well.” Reichardt held up his palms before the sisters.

Libby leaned toward Vika and whispered, “Don’t we have to get naked for this part?”

Smirking, Vika shook her head. “I think we’re fine like this.”

The soul bringer closed his eyes and pressed his hands to Libby and Vika low on their chests. It happened quickly. Her body jolted, her shoulders jerking back, and her chest lifted and burned bold and warm. The warmth radiated out through her extremities and filled her, finding home. Must be what Certainly felt when she’d blasted the souls through him. What a wondrous feeling. Her soul had returned.

She and Libby had joined hands, and now she hugged her sister. “We’re back.”

“Thank you, Reichardt,” Libby offered, yet wisely not leaping in for a hug. He wouldn’t know how to accept that yet. Maybe.

“And now?” Reichardt looked to CJ, who wielded the halo.

“Now I honor my part of the bargain.” As he approached the soul bringer, CJ paused. He tapped the halo against his palm, considering. Turning, he placed the halo in Libby’s hand. “You should do it.”

“Really? But I don’t know how.”

“Just...place it above his head, where it would have normally resided when once he walked the heavens.”

“The heavens,” Libby said in awe.

“And you must recite his angelic name.” CJ leaned next to Libby’s ear and whispered the name.

With a nod, Libby asked, “Are you sure about this, Reichardt?”

The soul bringer studied Libby’s inquiring eyes. “With my earthbound soul I will lose all knowledge of this life I have led for millennia. I will become lost in this world. An infant in a man’s shape, possessed with the knowledge of the world, yet unfamiliar with common emotions.”

“You won’t be lost, because you’ll have me,” Libby encouraged.

Reichardt nodded and clasped his hands before him. “Then I am sure.”

“Okay.” Libby glanced to Vika, giddiness making her bounce on her toes. She turned and approached Reichardt. “It’s a wondrous thing, having a soul. Here’s to much magic and wonder in your new life, Reichardt Fallowgleam, Kryatron, Angel of the Seventh Soul.”

Tilting up onto her tiptoes, Libby moved the halo above Reichardt’s head. It fixed and remained in one particular spot, and Libby was able to step back and join Vika’s side. Hugged by Certainly on one side and her sister on the other, Vika watched as the soul bringer’s body suddenly stiffened, his arms jutting out and head tilting back to face the heavens.

The halo flashed a brilliant blue and then a medley of colors, such as an aurora borealis. The soul bringer’s body lifted from the earth and floated upward a few feet.

Vika hugged her sister tightly while she clasped CJ’s hand. The garden had gone so still the grasses did not sway nor did a single cricket chirp.

With a whoosh of perfumed air, massive wings suddenly swept out behind Reichardt’s shoulders, spanning the small garden. Gorgeous, they were fashioned of an eerie blue smoky substance, yet formed as feathers. All angels’ wings were in the form of their original occupation. Vika couldn’t decide what the blue smoke signified for Reichardt. The Seventh Soul? She had no clue.