Bound by Magic Chapter 5

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CHAPTER 5

Kayla

GARRICK DIDN’T PULL BACK like she thought he might. Instead, he closed the distance between their hips and hoisted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. Not once did he break contact with her mouth.

His lips felt amazing, and his tongue felt even better when it slid effortlessly into her mouth. She’d never been kissed like this before. Like he had a savage hunger and only she could satisfy it. It didn’t take him long to find the bed. Well, if she discounted the mishaps on the way. They’d knocked over the lamp on the bedside table, causing shadows to jolt across the ceiling. But he didn’t seem to notice, so she ignored it.

Instead, Garrick’s warm hands found their way under her shirt, lifting the flimsy fabric. The warmth of them sent shocks of pleasure through her. She moaned into his mouth. Foremages, how could just his touch feel this incredible?

She didn’t have time to answer as his hands went in the opposite direction. He looped his thick fingers around the waist of her pants and tugged.

Using her heels, she anchored against his hips and shimmied from the soft cotton until her legs were free. In the process, the towel wrapped around him gave way. She didn’t have the time to process him before his hard length was pressed against the thin fabric of her panties. She nearly bolted off the sheets. A guttural moan erupted from her throat. Heat grew inside of her. Just as intense as his mouth against hers.

Garrick groaned and pulled away, but she wasn’t ready for his mouth to go anywhere. She used his shoulders to pull herself up to him. He growled. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

“Hot,” he murmured against her, grabbing at her wrists.

Yeah, he was. But his body stiffened under her.

“Your hands are not calm,” he groaned, then yanked them away from his shoulders.

“What?” she asked, in too hazy of a mist to comprehend him at first. Then, a flicker of odd light caught her attention. Her hands were glowing again and were hot to the touch like before.

Satan’s tools of doom stared back at her. Again.

Crap-O-mighty!

Why did they have to do this when they had a hot vampire on top of them?

Garrick placed her on the bed, then bent over to pick up the towel to secure it around his waist, but she could only focus on the two bright red handprints she left behind on his shoulders.

“Oh, no.” She scooched forward. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Don’t.” He backed away; his fangs lowered as he stared at her with the most ferocious look she’d ever seen. Her heart thumped.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” His breath came out in heavy pants. “But my vampire doesn’t understand it wasn’t meant as a claim marking either. He wishes to mark you too. I need calm him before we get your magic back under control,” he said, nodding toward the swirls of her essence circling her palms.

Garrick took several staunch breaths, then one as each of his muscle grouped, from his shoulders down to his toes, and flexed. She found herself mimicking the motion, reciting the mantra he’d just told her as she went. After a deep breath, his gaze settled on her with a nod. He’d regained control of the vampire inside him. Her magic went to him, racing up to his shoulders, hovering around the wounds she’d made.

Pellan had said her magic wouldn’t hurt him. Clearly, that was a lie. If only she could heal him.

In response, her magic went to him, concentrating on his wounds. Slowly, the markings on his shoulder dissolved into a fresh layer of skin.

“How are you doing this?” he asked, careful not to touch the magic dancing around the handprints she’d left behind.

“I… I don’t know.” Although, that wasn’t true. She wanted to heal him, and her magic followed suit. Her palms tingled and a faint light emanated from her fingertips until he was nearly healed, or so it felt. Yet, there was something still hurt underneath. Her magic dug a little deeper.

“Cha!” he hissed.

“Sorry.” Her magic flattened against his shoulders, halting its ministrations. “Does it hurt?”

“No, but it’s tender.”

With that small reassurance, her magic resumed until there was nothing left to heal, then raced around his body, finding the place where the shifters had bitten him. It moved to his arm which had splintered when Carissa transported them. His wounds there were nearly healed, but her magic dug into the deep, dense fibers, fixing and smoothing them. When it deemed him fit for duty, her magic weaved down his body and back to her hands.

They exchanged astonished looks.

“Did you see that?”

Garrick grinned. “I did. You healed me.”

“I can’t believe it. You were hurt and I just thought about making it better, and it just… did.”

“Your father did say if you control your emotions, you can control your magic. The calming technique must’ve worked.” His grin turned triumphant.

“You knew it would?”

“No, I didn’t. My father taught it to me when I first became a vampire. It helped me control my triggers…”

Garrick’s gaze settled between her thighs, then down to her stretch pants on the floor. It looked like they’d found another trigger for both of them. Just then, she became very aware of how naked they still were. Sure, he’d been covered in his towel and she was in a t-shirt and underwear, but it took an enormous amount of work to keep her gaze on his and not let it roam across the perfection below his chin. He must’ve noticed too.

“I should change. The sight of me must be uncomfortable to you. I know you’ve told your father that you have no experience with flesh.”

“I said that because he’s my father.”

Garrick looked utterly confused. So she pressed on, “I don’t think it’s comfortable for dads to know their daughters are off experiencing the flesh of others.”

Still bewildered. “Is this a mage tradition, then?”

“It’s an everybody tradition. I never really talked to my dad about my dating life before.”

His confusion doubled. “So, you’ve experienced the flesh of others, but your father does not know this, and you do not wish for him to know?”

Well, yes, but said like that, it sounded silly. “I’m not opposed to him knowing. It’s just weird, that’s all. Especially now, with everything going on.”

He nodded like he understood even though it was clear that he still didn’t grasp the concept. Apparently, vampires were more open about their sexual proclivities with their parents.

“I see. I will still change.” He shifted his towel to loosen it.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Removing my bathing cloth so I can switch to my clothes.”

“In front of me?”

I mean, he is trying to control his triggers, right? Getting naked when they’d barely gotten themselves together wasn’t the best idea.

He looked at her quizzically, but settled on, “I will switch them in the bathing room. I will be swift. Rations are coming.”

Garrick nodded toward the door. She looked at the wall housing the door with no knob.

“Someone’s there?”

“Now they are.”

Just then, someone knocked. Garrick darted into the bathroom with a stack of clothes he’d laid out on his side of the bed while she called for the door.

“Come in.”

She expected to see Carissa at their door to change out the plates from the night before. Yet, the face that appeared in the doorway made her freeze in terror.

The wind caught in her throat. She couldn’t speak. 

How did he get in here?

Small grunts thrust from her mouth, but did nothing more than spill from her lips and onto the floor near her feet as she came face-to-face with her worst nightmare.

“I was told to bring these.” He held up a tray, but she could only stare into his eyes. They weren’t alight with violet electric currents anymore, but his eyes held the same gleam as they inset in the same pinched face, flanking a pointed nose, and a mouth that seemed permanently carved into an evil ghost smile.

Who let a Syste into the mage compound?

No one would dare. Not when he fed on their kind.

Maybe they didn’t. Maybe he forced his way in and…

Her heart thundered in her ears, pulsing painfully in her neck before traveling to her hands. Spittle gurgled in the back of her mouth.

He instantly recognized her panic.

“Wait. I’m not who you think I am.”

“Get back!” Her magic woke from its quieted state and raced around her wrists.

The tray in his hand lolled to one side like someone unexpectedly anchored a dumbbell on it.

Garrick was out of the bathroom and at her side in a blur, fully dressed, alert gaze on the stranger at their door. He recognized the Syste at once, then hissed behind his fangs. Her magic readied them for an attack; it raced from her arms, then up around Garrick.

“You met my brother. Not me,” he said quickly, backing into the wall opposite their door when Garrick stalked forward.

“My twin… he’s my twin.” Fear heightened his voice into a squall, his leg hiked up as if to shield himself behind the tray in his hands. “Please don’t hurt me.”

Her panic turned into confusion.

“Your brother? Your brother is the Syste?” Of course, he was. She should’ve realized it from the start.

The mage in front of her didn’t feel like the Syste had. While the Syste felt like death incarnate shoved into a body, the mage in front of her felt… well, hollow somehow, but not unpleasant.

“Yeah. Y-you met my brother.” His leg was still hiked, shrinking from an attack.

“You are brothers who share the same face.” Garrick nodded in understanding. He relaxed and so did she when the mage in front of them showed no signs of bringing them any harm.

Afterward, her magic did something she was not used to.

It settled on its own.

She stared at it in shock as it cascaded down Garrick’s frame and up into her hands before disappearing without a trace. It tethered itself inside of her, latching on, creating that strange feeling of having a pot of honey syrup in a place close to her spine.

“Yeah, I don’t usually cross paths with many people who’ve met him.” The words drew her attention just as they turned awkward. He didn’t meet many in his brother’s acquaintance because the Syste would’ve sucked their magic out of them, killing them on the spot. The mage in front of her cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I’m Killian, the good twin. Zander’s the evil one.”

It was a humorless joke; one he’d probably said many times since his brother turned bad. They both stared at him for a long moment until he awkwardly bounced the tray in his hands, rattling the dishes.

“Well, I’m glad we got that straightened out,” Killian continued with a relieved laugh, speaking more now that her magic had been safely put to bed. “A fight would probably have ruined breakfast, which, come to think of it, would have probably been an improvement. It was my turn to cook. I’m not the best with eggs, but the French toast came out okay, maybe a little well done. Nothing some syrup can’t fix. And there’s orange juice,” Killian babbled on as if his insecurities pushed every word in his brain through his vocal box and out of his mouth. His grip tightened on the silver tray. The plates rattled again. “But if you wanted something else, I could probably convince Carissa to cook. She’s so much better at it.”

He looked almost bashful as he regarded them. Shy, even. Completely unlike her experience with the Syste who’d been calculating and slimy.

“French toast is my favorite,” she said with a warm smile, instantly liking Killian. “Anything soaked in butter and smothered in syrup will be heaven.”

“Oh, good.” He smiled broadly, then looked around. “It kind of sucks down here, huh?” Killian’s eyes darted up to the concrete ceilings soaring three stories above their head, but didn’t wait for her response. “I heard you’re wicked powerful. Must be if they put you in this room. What’s your affinity? It’s gotta be a big one.”

“My what?”

“Your affinity. All mages have one. What element do you favor most? I’m an earth type. I’m great at moving dirt around. It’s boring, really. I guess I should’ve gone into construction instead of being a courier. So, what about you?”

“I… don’t know.”

He looked startled by her declaration. “You haven’t used your magic much?”

She shook her head.

“Wow, you’re going to have a lot to learn before you can…” Killian was cut off by someone clearing their throat loudly beside him. He nearly dropped the tray in his hands, not expecting a disembodied voice to make an appearance. They all jumped in fright. Even Garrick’s fangs were back.

“I told you to deliver the tray to their door, knock once, then leave.” Theo’s voice appeared next to Killian. To her surprise, Theo didn’t appear in the hallway.

“S-sorry,” he stammered, pushing the silver tray toward them. Garrick reached for it quicker than she did. “I was just excited is all. We don’t get many visitors.”

“Upstairs. Now,” Theo demanded.

Killian rushed down the hallway.

“Don’t forget to seal the door.”

“Oh, yeah.” Killian’s back went straight before he rushed back and apologized. “Sorry. I have to close up now.”

The door closed slowly in front of them, all the while hearing Theo scolding Killian for getting too friendly, too fast. They had to be careful of her magic.

Only, her magic was different now. The feeling of its tethering was back, almost like it’d been recalibrated to the right setting. She felt it there, in the background, simmering, and waiting like it wanted her to command it.

Sure, if only it was that easy. Wouldn’t it be great if she just said “make a saucer” and it freaking obliged?

An inch above her palm, a small disk formed.

She gasped.

“What is wrong?” Garrick dropped the tray on the table and was back at her side. She was too busy staring at her hands.

“Look.” She held her hands out. Her magic hovered above her hands for a second, before disappearing back into her hand. She made another saucer. “My magic… I can… I can control it.”