Dark Magic, page 18
part #3 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
Oh, God. Even she was annoyed with how she was sounding, and it was a damn miracle the man in front of her wasn’t pushing her to the ground. Instead, he stood still, as if trying to figure her out.
“You’re not from around here?”
“Does the accent give me away? Bloody hell, and I was trying for an American accent since I got here.” Her real accent was emphasized, even exaggerated. The flat look turned considering, and she felt the guy no longer attempting to politely remove her from his path.
“That sounds...interesting.”
“No, you’re the interesting one,” she insisted, sidling closer. It took an effort to look deep into his eyes, and she fought back the shudder when she realized that underneath the interest, there was a certain sense of blankness. Blankness often meant one thing: that this man didn’t care about her on a personal level, and pretty much didn’t care about anything else, for that matter.
Not caring meant having no qualms about doing whatever was needed.
A hand coasted up her arm, seemingly to hold her steady. She felt the steel in that grip and resisted tensing. Those eyes locked with hers for a few more seconds, starting to unnerve her before they strayed to the side. Half-expecting the female to show up, she turned her head slightly to glance.
She peered at the blonde vampire instead, who was studying her with half-lidded eyes and sauntering closer. In a second, the distance between them was closed, and long, red-tipped nails fingered Leila’s hair lightly.
Tacky color, her mind barked.
Blood. Out for blood, the voice in her head hissed. Just one voice now.
“Hello,” Leila said easily, not letting any of her inner turmoil come out as knowledge battered at her. The shifter and vampire knew each other, and the shifter was now attempting to pass her on to the female so he could proceed to St. Charles. Because of that, she didn’t let him go as she took one hand off him and fingered the vampire’s hair back. It was soft as silk. “You’re pretty, too. Can I take both of you home?”
The female vampire smiled, showing teeth. Leila’s whole act must’ve worked because there was enough confidence in there to show just a hint of fangs—not fully, almost as if testing Leila out.
“I can take you home if you want.”
Leila beamed. “That would be lovely.”
She didn’t move at all, waiting for their next move—braced to counteract it either way, as she refused to allow both out of her sight now. Under pretend-sleepy eyes, she watched as the man placed his fingers on top of hers, and she anticipated what was coming: the whisper of pain as he attempted to break her fingers before she stopped him, or a firm tug as he pushed her in the vampire’s direction.
Oh, to hell with that. Not on her watch.
She giggled, then declared he was playing hard to get and proceeded to throw herself at him like a koala bear. Triumph flared when she clung on to him more firmly, refusing to budge, her hands skating down his chest to get to his pants. In actuality, she was already feeling him up for weapons other than his natural ones and found the hilt of a dagger.
“Come on, don’t be such a pisser,” she teased, palming the hilt. “Open your pants for me, love, and show me that hard-on—”
Hands yanked her back, the force making her stumble. Then she was steadied and rested against a hard chest, handled so well that it made her automatically defensive—for a second. A shrill female voice split the air, decidedly annoyed.
“What the hell is going on here?”
It wasn’t coming from that hard chest, because Leila knew that hard chest anywhere by now.
She also knew the thumb resting against her waist, light but firm. Warning, making her heart skip a beat.
What was Ovie doing here?
Chapter 24
A few things jumped out at Ovie at once: first, the man in the center of the mess, who was the biggest threat of them all based on his size alone. Second, the blonde woman frozen at the corner, who was standing too close to both the man and Leila for comfort and had been about to yank her hair before he got there.
Third, the last woman that came later, about the same time that he did. This woman was glaring daggers at everyone, but particularly at the man and the blonde woman. Based on their contrast of clothes and what Ovie had managed to overhear earlier, the glaring woman and the man were connected.
But so were the man and the blonde woman, which the glaring woman was becoming very much aware of.
Too many dangerous elements, his brain snapped at him.
He snapped into action.
“I don’t know about you, but these people are trying to get it on with my girlfriend.” The words were clipped, an accent he’d only tried once before and was similar to Edmund’s. Miraculously enough, he managed to make it sound as haughty as they came. “They are heathens, obviously.”
“Your girlfriend came on to us,” the blonde woman pointed out, eyeing him in interest. Also, decidedly ignoring the other woman.
Ovie sniffed. “She’s drunk. Only a bloody fool giggles around like a mad being and only an equal fool thinks that’s flirting.”
He supposed he shouldn’t have gone that far with the haughty attitude, and there was no mistaking the wrong turn he’d made when the man growled low in his throat. Mr. Cold Eyes took a step forward.
Ovie glared. “I didn’t hear your protest over a threesome.” He backed away a step, gripping Leila protectively. For show, he gave her an extra concerned glance. “Are you okay, my love?”
Black eyes glinted for a second in his direction before she hiccupped dramatically and smiled winningly.
“You’re the prettiest of them all.”
“I know,” he said solemnly.
“Threesome?” the other woman echoed, spitting fire as she stepped right in front of the man’s path. She was completely ignoring Ovie and Leila now, instead caging in both the man and the blonde woman.
The man turned his growl at her. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Yet you had time for a threesome.”
“Shut up.”
The man shouldered the woman off, then proceeded to the restroom. Ovie’s hand tightened around Leila before she could follow, also using her as a cover as he let his claws grow. The blonde woman offered a smile in his direction, seeking to meet his gaze.
“Would you be able to—”
“We’re not done yet, you bitch.”
The glamour was cut off before it could start, and abruptly, the angry woman was yanking the other one by the hair. Ovie watched as they dragged each other away, the beginnings of a catfight already brimming in the air. When they were gone, the sleepy look left Leila, and she narrowed her eyes. He let her go, then followed her as she turned the corner and headed for the men’s restroom.
A figure stepped out from the door before she could slam it open, and they both stopped and gaped at the man who dusted his top. When he turned to them, he didn’t look the least bit surprised.
Somehow, Ovie wasn’t surprised to see him there, either.
“You know, that could’ve gone the wrong way had you meddled further.”
“I was trying to gauge if you needed help or not,” Leila clarified, raising a brow. “Clearly, you didn’t.”
St. Charles scoffed. “Of course I don’t.”
“The man?” Ovie asked.
“Knocked out cold and currently hanging out in the toilet stall. Ah, ladies. Go on and get your drinks.” St. Charles grinned at the two brunettes, who came out of the women’s restroom. “You look freshened up. Thank you for listening to my instructions. Here, spend on this for whatever you need for the night.”
They squealed in delight at the card, then hurried out of there without a backward glance. Leila shot them a dirty look but didn’t follow them.
“That was…” Ovie trailed off.
“Interesting, I know. Come on, before everything unravels. I’ll explain later on the way.”
And so St. Charles did, glorying them with a tale of how his mission went about: particularly, how he’d found a way to bring the blonde vampire and the big shifter to meet by accident, and how that had led to an affair—then, how he’d put them all here like pieces on a chessboard, so the big shifter’s actual partner could witness the event.
“In the end, they all became too distracted to go after their actual target: me. So it all worked out.”
“What are they after you for?” Leila asked.
St. Charles winked. “Highly confidential. You know the drill.”
“They’ll keep following you, you know. You’re not exactly a low-key person.”
“Let them. That’s the fun of it, Leila. Press the eighteenth floor, please.”
Ovie did, and the elevator door closed. Beside him, Leila removed her wig and started massaging her scalp, careful not to look up at the elevator’s security camera. He refrained from touching her hair, keeping his hands at his sides.
“You wanted them to follow you,” Leila concluded.
“Maybe.”
“You got something from them, they want it back, and you’re using it to lure them in.”
“Leila, stop being so damn inquisitive and let it go. Ah, here it is. Isn’t your brother the best?”
Ovie’s eyes swept over the room St. Charles took them in, which was a hotel suite that had every luxurious accommodation there were.
“Charming,” Leila drawled. “I’m calling the bed.”
To their bewilderment, St. Charles merely grinned jovially. “Call whichever area you want. This is perfect, actually, since I won’t be back for a few days—and I do need people to think I’m still staying here. So stay here and enjoy yourselves. Bye.”
He dropped the room keys on the table and was out of the door before either of them could protest, and Leila’s eyes narrowed before she folded her arms and scowled. Then, taking a deep, calming breath, she turned to Ovie.
Ovie returned the gaze, watching as her features softened...then, turned neutral. She gave him a pointed look.
“How long were you following me?”
“I wasn’t following you. I was just checking to see where you were, and I would’ve left had things been fine.” He shrugged. “They weren’t.”
“Yeah, well, believe it or not, I wasn’t dogging St. Charles. He just happened to be there.”
“I believe you.”
“And I wasn’t planning to meddle. I was just checking things out, too.”
“I believe you.”
Softness trickled in her gaze again, and she swallowed. “I didn’t mean to leave that abruptly, either.”
That, he didn’t believe, but he decided not to comment on it. She was good at hiding her turmoil, and she did so again when she turned around and headed to the bedroom. Most men would go either way: take advantage and try to seduce her, or simply stay on the couch.
Ovie opted for going to the bed directly, kicking his shoes off in the process.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Resting,” he replied easily, closing his eyes.
“You’ve just been to a club,” she blurted out. “Your clothes…”
“My clothes are clean, I haven’t been anywhere before the club, and it’s fine.”
Leila harrumphed, then muttered something about stubborn men before stomping her way to the bathroom. He kept his eyes closed as he listened to the shower turn on, then smelled the scent of some fancy shampoo drift in the bedroom. It relaxed him, in a way, knowing she was there, knowing she was fine.
“That was quite a show you put on there.”
The words drifted closer, clueing him in that she was out of the shower. Now the scent was faint, but pleasantly so as he wanted to sniff further. Instead, he stayed where he was, waiting her out and feeling her hesitation in the air.
“Hmm.”
“I didn’t realize you could play rich, haughty aristocrat so easily.”
He shrugged. “It’s easy enough if you know Edmund, which I do.”
Ovie felt her smile and was slightly shook at how in tune he was to her. After another moment’s hesitation, the bed dipped, and he felt her carefully crawl to the space he’d left for her beside him. He didn’t open his eyes to look.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“I am. You’ve outdone yourself there, too. Drunk, ditzy flirt who appears harmless and can easily be taken advantage of.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t realize there’d be more than one person in the mix. I swear, St. Charles drives me nuts with all his schemes—and I’m a schemer myself.”
“Perhaps that’s why Edmund gives him these missions. Because he can drive people up a wall and live with his conscience after. St. Charles never seems bothered with whatever he does.”
“I…didn’t think of it that way. You’re right.” A pause. “But sometimes I act that way, too.”
“Sometimes, not always. You have more compassion than you think.”
“So does Andrei,” she defended.
A surge of jealousy weighed heavy in his chest, but it was fleeting. She was right, and even he agreed—that St. Charles was more than his callous, flippant ways, just as much as Leila was. They’d do anything for family.
When the jealousy was gone, another emotion replaced it: an ache, one that made his fingers twitch. He held them steady as he thought of family.
“Mal’s doing good, by the way. But he did warn me about one thing.”
There was no missing the sudden tension in the air. “What?”
“Something’s brewing. Do you feel it?”
“No,” was the fast response, completely casual.
He didn’t believe that, either.
“You know you can talk to me no matter what.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“If you say so.”
“Stop being so…agreeable.”
“Even if I agree with you?”
She sighed, at a loss for words. His mouth quirked, and he turned his head away from her in an attempt to hide it. But she saw it anyway, and she made protesting noises in her throat.
“I knew it!”
“Knew what?” he asked mildly.
“You’re teasing me.”
“I have no idea what you’re—ow!” This time, Ovie’s eyes snapped open at the pinch to his side, which was angled right where it would tickle and hurt at the same time. When her fingers attempted to pinch again, his hand snaked out faster than hers, and he was wrapping her wrist in his hand and holding her steady.
In a second movement, he was rolling her around and pinning her arms over her head, which had her sputtering in alarm. Then, indignation.
“Oliver Fitzgerald, unhand me this instant.”
“It’s an easy enough lock. I’d like to see you try.”
She made more disbelieving noises, then narrowed her eyes at him. He hadn’t realized until now just how dim the bedroom’s lighting was, though he’d easily noticed a few other things: how fresh she looked in her silk robe, how wide and soft her gaze was despite her protest, and how her body accommodated his as he pressed her down—like they just fit. He leaned down, no longer fighting the urge to sniff, and was rewarded with the fuller scent of her under the fancy shampoo.
Leila attempted to buck him off once, then twice. When he wouldn’t budge, she glared at him.
“Stop teasing me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, bending his head and resting his mouth near her ear. Her skin was soft there, silky smooth, and it felt like such a long time since he’d kissed that area. Memories of their times together resurfaced, thrumming in his blood like an anticipating beat. But he remained still. “I can’t help it. You bring out the mischievous in me.”
“I’m glad to be of service,” she said sarcastically. Then, in a lighter, more broken tone, “You’re still doing it.”
“This isn’t teasing, per se,” was his response as his thumbs continued rubbing circles over her pulse points. It had become a habit, soothing and delightful. The tension in the air changed, turning thicker.
Her body softened under him, a quiet surrender. “Then what is it?”
“Craving. Missing,” he admitted, unable to hide it. “Attempting.”
“Attempting?”
“To seduce you. Tell me if it works.”
“You’re teasing again,” she said, though her voice was no longer firm and accusing. A soft, raspy quality had simmered in it, turning him on more than he cared to admit. With one hand locking both of hers, his other hand caressed, touching places that made her still before she melted against him. It was an addiction, and it was one that he wanted more than anything in the world.
Ovie’s mouth lowered to her jaw, tracing kisses there. His hand found what was throbbing in between her thighs, and his fingers ghosted over her panties and felt her tremble beneath him—
But not for long.
The next movement was sudden—and wild, as Leila’s strength immediately surged and threw his body off her. He was flattened to the bed, with her on top of him and straddling to lock him in place. A growl thundered from her throat, the sign of a beast wanting dominance—and for the first time in his life, Ovie’s beast didn’t want to fight that dominance but to submit to it, as if she were important.
Because she was.
Stunned silence came over him before he recovered and attempted to calm her down.
“Alright, I surrender. I didn’t mean to anger you, and—”
His words were interrupted when a mouth crashed down to his, kissing him before he could protest. It was hard, it was desperate, and it had his blood surging forward and lust exploding in his body.
But something else, too.
Helpless to all of it, Ovie could only rock his hips up.
And kiss her back.
Chapter 25
Fast, hard, and all-consuming was how she wanted it, and Leila was determined to get it—and to her delight, it was decidedly going her way. A part of her faulted Ovie for pressing against her in the first place and triggering a desire so stark, it drove her mad in an instant. That faulting was dismissed easily, as it wouldn’t have worked had it been any other man.
