Obsidian Magic (Legacy Series Book 2) Read online

  “True, but she is strong and can be a danger. I don’t think she is or will ever choose to be but keep in mind that she has the ability to enhance the magic of anyone she touches. You saw what she did at the house. Imagine what will happen if she is used by the wrong person. High-level mages are nearly invincible, and Savannah could make the magic of any regular mage that of a high-level mage. In the wrong hands that can be a problem.”

  Stilted silence persisted. After a long moment I decided to get her opinion on who Savannah should talk to, although I knew who she would recommend.

  “Who should she meet with?”

  Blu didn’t answer immediately. And when she finally answered, her tone was crisp, even, and low. “She should meet with them all, and when they make their little pitch about the advantages of forming an alliance”—she dropped her voice even lower, I could barely hear—“she should pick the Shapeshifter Council. They can never exploit her, and if she is ever in need of protection, they would be the best ones because of their immunity to magic.”

  “Not the witches?” I was sure she would rally for the witches.

  “As I stated, she should pick the shapeshifters. Am I right in assuming they are the only ones that haven’t contacted her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell her to choose the shapeshifters.” With that she hung up the phone.

  I slouched onto the bed. I really needed to take a shower and then get some sleep. Before taking the position with the Supernatural Guild, Gareth had been head of the Shifter Council, but I wasn’t sure if we should talk to them or go directly to the current head. Too many things were going on in my brain; I needed to shower and rest to sort them out.

  The nap came first because I didn’t have it in me to stand up once I was comfortable on the bed. The shower wasn’t as relaxing as I thought it would be and didn’t help relieve my aching muscles or perk me up. Nor could I turn off my racing thoughts. Magic was like any muscle, it needed to be trained. I needed to learn to teleport and hone my animancer abilities, although they weren’t things I wanted to use. Erasing memories was a violation and against the law. Manipulating them was, too, but the rules were different for the Magical Council and Supernatural Guild because it was the only way they could maintain a strong alliance with the humans.

  I felt the weight of the situation heavily on my shoulders. The more I encountered other Legacy and Vertu, the more I realized I needed to learn about magic. The benefit of being out now was that I could learn; but from who? Possibly Kalen, if he ever decided to speak to me again. Thinking about the fact that he might never speak to me again made a pain shoot through me. I assumed when he was ready to talk, we would. I’d decided not to go in to work the next day.

  If Kalen did decide to talk to me, I wasn’t sure how much help he could offer. Faes could do cognitive and manipulative magic, similar to what Conner had done when he’d changed my hair back to my natural color. And it was something Kalen used often to change my clothes and hair. Magical manipulation was a good party trick, but it wasn’t effective defensive magic. I could already manipulate memories, as I’d done with the shifter Tracker who’d come after me, and wipe memories.

  Maybe Blu could teach me more about spells. Savannah could help with her ability to enhance them. And then what? That was the real question.

  I shook off everything. I needed to give my mind a break. Maybe Savannah was right—dinner with Lucas might not be a bad thing. I wouldn’t mind going to Devour; after all, whenever I was there, I was too busy watching my neck, declining offers for “a drink”—like they were fooling someone with that offer—and trying not to be seduced by hot zombies, or vampires as they preferred to be called. It was a distraction, and a lot of alcohol wasn’t a bad idea, either. I’d decided to tell Savannah to agree to see Lucas, although I was sure she already had.

  Finding Gareth pacing the floor in my bedroom when I stepped out of the bathroom to get dressed wasn’t what I expected. I pulled the towel around me tighter. I’d seen him naked more times than anyone who wasn’t sleeping with him should have. It didn’t bother him, but nudity didn’t bother most shapeshifters. It was something humans had to get used to. Most didn’t mind since it was hard to find many shifters that physically weren’t worth a second, third, or maybe a fourth look.

  He grinned as I tightened the towel around me again and ran my hand through my damp hair. I wished I had at least attempted to comb it.

  “Savannah let me in,” he offered, addressing my curiosity.

  “Back here? In my room?”

  He nodded, his eyes slowly traveling the length of me. I felt the heat on my cheeks. Don’t you dare blush, I threatened myself. Ugh, this was a long, bad day.

  Savannah popped her head in. “Hey, Levy, Gareth’s here.” Then she waved at him.

  “Thanks, I never would have guessed with him standing in my room and all. Top-notch observations, Detective.”

  She simpered, “I thought so, too. I’m heading out.”

  I didn’t have to ask—she had on makeup, her hair was curled and flowing, and I just got a hint of the pink shimmering top she had on. I wasn’t going to be able to stop it. There was definitely something going on with Savannah and Lucas. Dating? Did vampires date? I knew they didn’t have problems with casual encounters, and I’d blocked many vamps’ attempts to seduce Savannah into a one-night stand. It had to be hard for them to engage in the art of seduction with me just a few inches away, scoffing, laughing, and pointing out the lack of originality in their prose, all the while scowling at them.

  “I need to get dressed,” I told him.

  He nodded and leaned against a wall.

  “Unless you have cash to toss at me while I do it, get out,” I said.

  He shrugged. “I think I have cash.” He reached into his pocket, pulled money from his wallet, and held it between his fingers. “Do I get to stay?”

  “It was a joke.”

  “Are you proud of that one?” he said, throwing my own line in response to his purring joke of a few days ago back at me.

  “Very. I just need a minute.”

  “It’s not like you have something I haven’t seen before.”

  “Good for you. Your congratulatory card is in the mail. You’ve seen naked women. Hooray. You don’t get to see this one.”

  He grinned and I could have sworn he said, “Yet.”

  We’ll see about that.

  He plopped in the chair and gave me a long, roving look as he clasped his hands behind his head and relaxed back in the chair. “Ms. Michaels, I’ve seen woman in various stages of undress and a lot of naked women”—the gentle bevel remained firmly planted on his lips—“and I’ve managed to control myself. I assure you I can do so with you.” Taunting smile was replaced with smirk. “Or are you implying”—his placid blue eyes moved over me and settled on my hands, which clutched the towel tighter—“that you are so beguiling I won’t be able to control myself? Now who’s the arrogant one?”

  Without commenting, I went to my dresser and grabbed some clothes and underwear and went into the bathroom to dress. Gareth was standing and looking over the books on my shelf when I finally finished. “Hmm, you have a lot of thrillers, mysteries, and espionage novels. Not a single romance.”

  “There’s romance in the thrillers.”

  “Ah, I see, is that the way to your heart? A man has to put you in danger—or is it fighting that gets you going? Is it the adrenaline rush of possibly winning at hand-to-hand?”

  “Possibly?” I teased. “But most men aren’t feeling particularly sexy after they get their ass handed to them by a woman.”

  “Is that right? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had my ass handed to me.”

  “Really.” My brow rose as I hoped he recalled the time at his house. It seemed to have slipped his mind. “How quickly you have forgotten the incident at your house,” I reminded him.

  He grinned, approaching me with slow, lissome steps, his eyes glittering with amusement. “I
do believe you were the one cuffed and on the floor, or am I not remembering correctly? And I do believe I did it in less than five minutes.”

  I could feel the warmth of his body, just inches from me. Shapeshifters always ran hot—I thought so, or maybe it was just Gareth. “You cheated.”

  “Did I?” His breath wisped lightly against my lips and I became very aware of him, the defined muscles that molded around his body and brushed against mine. And his lips, soft and commanding. For a brief moment, I closed my eyes, trying to push all the sinful thoughts out of my mind. It was primal—not real. It was just igniting an unfathomable craving. It had to be some weird type of shifter magic. I didn’t believe for a moment the attraction was real, but on some level I wanted to.

  His fingers ran along my arm until they came to the crease of my wrist. And then he cuffed his hand around them. “I had cuffs and you had magic. I was faster.”

  The magic sparked inside me, slow at first. Gradually rising along my arm before lacing around it. A small splash of vibrant colors twirled and contorted into a tight ball of magic that rested on the tips of my fingers.

  He looked at it, and for a moment his eyes were shadowed with concern and possibly a brief memory of being controlled by magic similar to mine. It was a colorful, vibrant reminder that there was magic that he didn’t have immunity to. The wispy smile on his lips faltered for a moment. The concern and aversion slipped as he released my wrist. His finger coursed down my hand until it was close to the magic, but he held my gaze. I pulled away, long enough for his finger to brush along the side of the ball. The turgid muscles of his arm contracted and then relaxed. He moved closer, leaving nothing between us. I smothered the magic, but the spark remained, and he felt it as well as our lips connected. His pressed harder against mine, entreating a response that I willingly gave. His hand released mine and traveled over my hip before it slid under my shirt, his finger tracing along the curves of my waist before drawing me to him.

  Then he slipped my shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor. In one swift move, he did the same to his, and then we were skin on skin. My fingers explored the muscles that wrapped around his torso. Pulling me closer to him, he kissed me again, hungrily. A raw, heated sensuality that I hadn’t experienced before ignited, and then he started to tug at my leggings. I helped him, barely moving my lips from his, my fingers entwined in his hair as I attempted to wiggle out of the leggings.

  Breathless and panting, he pulled them off of me and then pressed his hard body against mine. His lips pressed harder, hungrily caressing mine as his hand plaintively glided over the intimate parts of my body. He nestled in closer to me, his fingers digging into my thighs as my legs curled around his waist. His arousal pressed against me. He started to walk me back toward the bed when my senses reasserted themselves. This can’t happen. Not with Gareth. I unraveled my legs from him and eased them to the floor, reluctant to put any distance between him as his soft lips brushed lightly against mine.

  Reluctantly I put a few feet between us. Breathing heavily, he approached again, his eyes holding mine, leveling the defenses I’d put up. I inhaled a ragged breath and pulled my eyes from his and tried to slip out the door past him, but he took hold of my arm.

  “We really should figure out what to do next about Conner.” My breath still came at a rapid pace.

  He stared at me for a few minutes, his eyes narrowed and assessing. After a few moments, he released me and picked up his shirt, following me out of the room. Please put your shirt on.

  His shirt was still in his hand as we made our way into the living room. Please put your shirt on.

  His brow furrowed with confusion as he slipped his shirt over his head. I wanted to give him a reason but I didn’t have one that he would understand. He was Gareth, the head of the Supernatural Guild, a member of the Magic Council, and an ex-member of the Guardians of Order—he was complicated and overwhelming. He was the very last thing I needed, because I had my fill of complicated, and my life right now was a lot to handle.

  “How’s Avery?” I asked once he’d taken a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.

  “Shaken more than anything.” An immunity to magic gave them a level of confidence and cockiness regarding it, and I was sure it was difficult dealing with having it used on him. Causing him to hurt his nephew was probably the worst of it.

  I tried to distract myself with anything other than looking at him, and he noticed, smiling at every attempt. “Have you spoken to Harrah?”

  He nodded. “And everyone else once the panic died down. They’d just seen a unicorn in action, they were concerned.”

  “I’m sure they were more concerned when I told them more existed. Many more.”

  He breathed out. “I don’t know.”

  “At least you have the Maxwells, or at least two of them, so there shouldn’t be any random fights breaking out around the city.”

  “Yeah, but if Conner got them out, then what’s to stop him from doing it again?”

  I had nothing to offer. “How do we stop him from doing it now?”

  “We have more manpower that we can continue to use guarding them.”

  There was some comfort in that. Not the excessive need to guard them, but the fact that they hadn’t killed them.

  “It was a consideration,” he said.

  “What?”

  “What do you think? You’re not as elusive as you would like to believe.”

  “Now you not only can determine when someone is lying, have weird super-hearing, and can locate someone anywhere in the city, but you’ve added reading thoughts to your creepy invasive superpowers, too?” I asked, surprised.

  “No, but I can figure yours out. You are very strategic and realize that is the best option. With everything that they’ve done over the past few days, it would be warranted, but I wonder if Conner will try to retrieve them.”

  “And if he does?” I asked.

  He shrugged and relaxed back on the sofa, but there was a hauntingly menacing look about him. There wasn’t any doubt that he would do anything to stop Conner.

  “I need to get more proficient with my magic,” I admitted. “They’re able to do things that I’m not.”

  “From my understanding, you were quite impressive today. Some even described it as scary, and I think threat and danger were thrown around, too.”

  “I kept you from ripping your nephew apart while they gawked at me while I did it. How am I a danger? Them being dumbstruck was the real danger.” He was just repeating what was said to him, but I couldn’t help but be offended by it. Conner was a danger. Evelyn was a danger, but I wasn’t. I was okay with being considered innocuous, because people who were considered a threat were treated as one.

  “Where do you feel that you fail?” he asked.

  “I just need to learn more spells and do some of the things that Evelyn can do—”

  His brow rose. “Like control shifters?”

  “No, transport.”

  He frowned but remained quiet. No one else could transport; that was something only Legacy and Vertu could do. But I could be shown how to do better magic. Stronger spells and other things.

  Gareth stayed for longer than I expected, especially since the conversation had continued and we hadn’t come to a resolution.

  CHAPTER 9

  I didn’t bother to set my alarm, positive that I wasn’t going to hear from Kalen for a while. After checking my phone five times and not seeing a message from him, I gave in to the reality that he probably wasn’t going to call. I should have been working on alternative employment plans, but I just didn’t want to think about it. Telling my potential employer that I’d lost my last job because I’d admitted to my previous employer what I really was would surely be the best way of being asked to leave without an invitation to return. But I hadn’t just lost an employer, I’d lost a friend. I was still in my pajamas when Kalen texted me to ask whether I was coming to work.

  It didn’t take me long to get dressed,
and just forty-five minutes after the call, I was walking into the office. I didn’t bother to get coffee, something I was supposed to get every morning. At this time of the day he would have been working on his third cup.

  He greeted me with a wry smile, one that took a great deal of effort. “I screwed that one up, didn’t I?” Then he picked up a hat off the desk. “Peace offering,” he said, handing me the one that he’d taken from me two days ago and forbidden me from wearing. I could smell the chemicals coming from it; he must have had it cleaned.

  I put it on my head and tapped the top until it came down too far, covering most of my head. He frowned. In one sweeping look, he took in my black fitted jeans, white Converses, and striped button-down shirt with the sleeves cuffed midforearm, along with the hat.

  He shook his head. “You don’t even try, do you?”

  “I used to, but what would you do with your time if you didn’t spend it commenting on my clothes and making poorly veiled insults about my ponytail or bun?”

  He laughed. It seemed we weren’t going to discuss the elephant in the room, the obvious thing that we were ignoring. I was trying to read him, but I couldn’t. Was he in an active state of denial, or had he accepted it? Did he have questions but was too afraid to ask? Was he incapable of dealing with the reality? I cursed under my breath. I had no idea how to handle the situation.

  We didn’t handle it; instead we went into the storage room and started sorting more boxes. For an hour, we did it in silence while he cataloged things, deciding what was junk and what wasn’t. Someone from the SG had dropped off some items confiscated from Ms. Neal. Most of it was junk. Anything that was magical or could be used for magic had most likely been confiscated.

  “How long have you known?” he finally asked. His back was to me and he was packing things away.

  “I’ve always known. It’s not really something you accidentally discover.”