Early Tuesday morning
ABBIE snuggled into the warm, masculine flesh surrounding her. She inhaled Luc’s scent and felt whole. Last night, when he’d been far too close to death, she realized she didn’t want to live in a world without him. She loved and needed him, every macho inch. He was her world.
Before he’d entered her life, it had been barren, centered mostly on work and occasionally family. How her mother and uncle had put up with her prior to Luc waking her up, she’d never know. Madoc’s first attack had really done a number on her psyche. She turned her back on her family, her friends—and the magic which had saved her. She hadn’t realized what a dark empty pit she’d dwelled in until Luc blew into her life, a male cyclone challenging her to keep up with him. He admired her magic even though she’d tried to bury it. He respected her strengths, but protected her whether she wanted it or not. He claimed her when she hadn’t even known she wanted to be. He loved her—even when she got pissy.
“Abbie?” Luc’s husky, sleep-filled tones stroked over skin. He leaned over to kiss the corner of her mouth. “You okay? You had me worried.” He pulled her closer into his body, surrounding her with his strength.
“I’m fine.” She turned within the circle of his arms to face him. She stroked his jaw, loving the rasp of his morning beard against her sensitive fingertips. “I love you.”
“Ditto.” He kissed the tip of her nose. His hands massaged her lower back. “I sensed him beating on your wards.” She felt the shudder which travelled through his body. “Fucking scared the shit out of me, but you held strong.”
“No more scared than I was for you. You could’ve died.” She buried her face against his neck. She kissed the strong pulse throbbing against her lips.
“But I didn’t. You saved me.” He rubbed his cheek over her bowed head. “My warrior witch. So strong. So brave.”
“I didn’t feel so brave. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to hold him off long enough for you to get loose. It was as if his magic ate mine.” She leaned back and caught the look of adoration he aimed at her. “You ever heard of any magic like that before?”
“I’d heard dark magic is similar to a black hole, sucking white magic into it. My grandfather never taught me how to defend against the dark arts.” He kissed her forehead. “Trust me, I’ll be letting him know he sorely neglected my education in that regard.”
“I don’t think your grandfather neglected anything. His magic is as white as yours. Dark magic has been outlawed since the last witch wars, the knowledge locked away. No one should be practicing it.”
“How did you know how to defeat the dark spell all those years ago?”
“I didn’t. When Madoc first used the binding spell on me, I was young and a typical teenager—self-absorbed, rebellious against authority, and still learning my magic.” She shrugged. “Something inside guided me to finding the key to the spell. The boomerang spell was just one of those spells we kids used against each other all the time as a first line of defense. Once I had that thread, I just went with instinct and turned Madoc’s magic back on him. It worked then, and I knew it would work this time too.”
“And it was brilliantly done. But I don’t ever want to see you so drained again.” Luc nibbled kisses along her shoulder, causing every nerve in her body to tingle and her pussy to get wet.
Abbie moaned and arched into his nakedness. He cupped her butt, pulling her closer until his hard cock pulsed against her stomach. She trailed a hand down his torso, took him in hand and stroked his warm, silky length, her thumb removing the wetness pooling on the head. “I need this in me…now.” She licked his lower lip then sunk her teeth lightly into it. As he groaned into her mouth, she nudged the tip of his cock into her wet slit then thrust her hip to lodge him within her.
“I can’t be gentle.” He punctuated the statement by thrusting fully into her aching pussy.
“I didn’t ask for gentle.” She arched into him and took one of his nipples between her teeth. Letting it loose, she licked and suckled it before lowering her head back to the bed. “Make love to me, Luc. I want to feel you in my soul.”
“Oh hell yeah.” One hand plucked her nipple into an aching turgid peak which he then surrounded with his lips. “Hold on, baby,” he muttered against her breast. His hips began a punishing rhythm. The only sounds in the room were those of their bodies meeting one another’s, mixed in with groans and moans as they pleasured each other.
Their minds and bodies connected, pleasure feeding upon itself, escalating exponentially until she knew no other reality but being loved by Luc. As she neared her peak, he stopped, his penis fully lodged within her, throbbing and pulsing against her highly sensitized and swollen vaginal walls.
“Luc!” She thrust her hips, seeking the return of the motion which had promised heaven. But Luc held her to the bed with his greater weight and strength. His gaze filled with amber fire. “Sadist! I was so close…you’re so close. What’s wrong?” She’d been concentrating on her pleasure and the climax it promised and hadn’t noticed the strain on Luc’s face. While there was still the hunger, the lust for the sex act, there was now something more, a need in him she felt compelled to assuage. “Luc?”
He lifted one trembling hand to her face, caressing her as if she were the most precious object in the world. “I love you. Need you. You’re mine.” He groaned as she tightened her inner muscles to fist his erection. “The gods know I can’t lose you. I couldn’t go on. Tell me you’re mine.”
He was scared. Her big, macho male animal was terrified she didn’t return the intensity of his feelings. “I love you. I’m yours. Look inside me. You can see it for yourself.” For the first time in her life, she dropped all her shields and let him deep into her mind, into the very essence of all she was.
His eyes closed. Every muscle on his body tensed with desire…for her. When his shields dropped also, she knew he’d seen what he needed. When he reopened his eyes, they glowed. “Sweetheart…there are no words to express what I feel for the gift you just gave me. Thank you.”
She leaned up and licked his chest. “You are it for me, Luc. There will be no other…ever. When you pass to the Otherworld, my love will go with you until we can be joined in the hereafter.”
“Abbie! Marry me.”
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t a question.” He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose.
“I could tell. You are just so effing macho.” She grasped his face with both hands and pulled him to her lips. “Now fuck me. Make me scream with pleasure…or I might have to hurt you.”
“My pleasure. Hold on, little witch. We’re gonna fly!” Luc thrust his tongue into her mouth, fucking it. His cock, a willing prisoner in her tight, moist pussy, thrust again and again.
Abbie’s hips met his as his cock touched her core. She tightened her fingers on his biceps. “Oh, fuck, Luc. So good. So good. I’m so-o-o close. Help me.” Luc rotated on each down-thrust, grinding her clit against his pubic bone, giving her the extra pressure she needed to soar. “That’s good. Harder, sweetie, harder.”
“Let go of my arms, baby.”
She released her grip on him and lay back on the bed, trembling with the need to come. Luc placed her hands on the scrolled metal headboard. “Hold on. Do not let go.” With his cock still inside her, he lifted her legs to brace her ankles on his shoulders. She watched him through a sexually induced haze. He was gorgeous, her man, the epitome of a conquering alpha-male claiming his mate. His hot golden gaze seared every inch of her nakedness. His nostrils flared as he took in their combined scents. “I love you like this.” He stroked her body with the backs of his fingers, sending chills and thrills over her. “Spread out, holding my cock in your honeyed depths. Covered with my scent. Submitting to me, only me.”
He slowly withdrew from her then thrust back inside. She shuddered at the look of possession on his face. Her body clamored for the release only he could give her. “Yes, only for me. You’re mine.” He stroked a callused finger from her breastbone down the center of her body until he reached her clit. He pressed on the bundle of screaming, needy nerves. She gasped as he circled the little bud. When he pressed on it once more, she screamed, a breathless sound of pleasure. Fingering the engorged bud, he resumed thrusting into her. “Come for me. I want to hear you scream my name.”
“Oh, yeah…that’s good. So good.” She groaned, a deep guttural sound between pleasure and pain. “Oh, fuck…yeah.” Her orgasm swept over her. She arched off the bed, letting go of the headboard, her arms blindly seeking Luc, her anchor to the world. He’d never let her fly away and be lost.
Luc continued pounding into her body, rubbing her clit…prolonging her pleasure. “My name. I want to hear it.” He gritted out the words. His face flushed with exertion, his eyes full cat now as his animal nature took over. He wasn’t just having sex, he was mating her. “Come again…say…my…name.” Luc ground his hips into hers, leaned over to lick then bite her shoulder where it joined her neck.
“Oh, fuck…Luc!” His snarling growl echoed in her head as he came. The combination of his marking her and his hot seed hitting the back of her pussy sent her up and over a second time. As she lay boneless and gasping for air, Luc let out a breathy groan. He kissed her gently, reverently, as he stroked hair from her face with shaky fingers, their damp bodies still joined, still throbbing with pleasure.
Between kisses, he whispered, “Love you so fucking much.”
Holding his hot, heavy body to her with love-weakened arms, she whispered against his seeking lips, “Love you back.”
* * * *
Tuesday, 9 AM, Travis County Morgue
Luc leaned against a wall in the employee break room of the Travis County Morgue. Abbie sat on a lumpy, scarred, orange leatherette sofa. Her raven-colored hair blocked his view of her face as she reviewed some legal briefs for an upcoming court case. Vidal paced the confines of the small room like a caged lion. They were awaiting the results of the gross pathologic examination of Ari’s body.
His gaze swept Abbie’s chicly dressed body. His mind replayed the images of her rosy, glistening nudity as she knelt at his feet in the shower a mere hour and a half ago. She’d sucked him off to a mind-blowing orgasm to thank him for the two he’d given her earlier in bed. Of course, he’d returned the favor by eating her pussy as she sat on the vanity before he’d allowed her to get dressed. He hardened at the memories and surreptitiously maneuvered his hyperactive cock into a more comfortable position in his jeans.
Abbie shot him a glance. You want me again? He nodded. She blushed and turned her attention back to her papers.
Hell, yeah, he wanted her again; he’d have to be dead and buried not to want her. But he could wait—until later, after they went ring shopping. He wanted to mark her as his in the human way. His animal had already marked her in its own way.
Right now, Vidal needed them for moral support. Abbie and Ilana hadn’t exaggerated Vidal’s raw and ravaged emotional status. The man was a mass of exposed nerves—and his pacing made Luc’s animal twitchy.
“What’s taking them so long?” Vidal asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.
And for the hundredth time, his little witch patiently answered, “Autopsies take time, Uncle. You want the doctor to do a thorough job, right?”
“Yes, of course, but what if they don’t find anything?”
Luc felt for his friend. Vidal, always well-groomed and looking younger than his sixty years, had aged immeasurably over the last twenty-four hours. Lack of sleep and grief had a way of aging a person.
“Then we’ll get in there and do our own kind of investigation,” Luc reassured the older man. “We can’t afford to wait weeks for the toxicology results. We’ll use our extra-senses and magic to find what we need. But the pathologist and tox reports will be what the prosecutor needs to charge the murderer and convict him.”
Abbie’s green eyes glistened and she smiled at him. Thank you for being here. Helping.
Nowhere else I want to be, little witch.
The door to the small room crashed into the wall. Abbie gasped, dropping her file on the cracked linoleum floor. Vidal stopped pacing and turned to meet the intruder, his leanly muscled body tensed to attack and magic sparking visibly off his fingers.
Luc just stared. He’d sensed the two men right before they’d barged into the room. The men weren’t dangerous—just a pain in the butt and a thorn in his side. Jeff Walden, the pain in the butt, had an angry scowl on his face and stood in the doorway. Behind him loomed Detective Sam Adams, the thorn in Luc’s side. The cop’s body was noticeably tense, almost battle-ready, but the look on his face was a studied mask of boredom as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. Luc wasn’t fooled…Sam was pissed, really, really pissed.
Sam’s Native American shamanic powers, a side he’d suppressed until a month ago when he’d first met Abbie and Luc, shimmered over his skin. The cop’s animal spirit was furious and on alert. Luc snarled silently. Walden also had that effect on his animal side. Walden was trouble on two legs—and far too focused on Abbie. This morning, the wily prosecutor looked as if he wanted to hit her rather than fuck her. Luc pushed off the wall. He needed to place his body between Abbie and potential harm.
Sam caught Luc’s eye, shook his head and mouthed “wait.”
Fine, he’d wait, but he was prepared to use whatever force necessary, physical or magic, to keep Walden’s slimy hands off his woman. His extreme control of his animal instincts in this instance could serve as a display of trust in Abbie’s ability to handle herself. After all, she’d dealt just fine with both Walden and a warlock last night.
“Abbie!” Walden pointedly ignored Luc and Vidal. “What in the hell is going on here? I just received a call from the Medical Examiner. And do you know what he told me?”
“Haven’t a clue, Jeff. Why don’t you enlighten us?” Her voice was calm and her lips tilted in a slight smile. Only Luc, and maybe Vidal, could sense the tension pouring off her in waves.
As any good poker player would, Abbie wasn’t showing her cards until the pot got larger. His little lawyer was smart enough to let Walden carry the conversation, at least until she knew she had a good chance of winning—and knew just how much Walden remembered from last night.
Walden stomped into the room, followed closely by Sam. Both Luc and Vidal moved closer to Abbie to cut off direct physical access to her. “He wanted me to know that my hunch to do an autopsy on Ariana Huntingdon had paid off. It looks as if she was murdered.”
“I knew it,” Vidal shouted. “What killed my Ari?”
Walden shifted his attention away from Abbie and toward her uncle. “Don’t you know, Mr. Storm?” The prosecutor eyed Vidal suspiciously. “From what I heard, you were the person sitting closest to the victim.”
Walden was an idiot. He couldn’t believe Vidal killed Ari.
“No, Mr. Walden, I don’t know.” Vidal enunciated each word as if he were talking to someone mentally challenged. “If I’d known what killed her, I wouldn’t have asked my niece to approach you about approving this autopsy.”
Sam choked then coughed. The cop’s gaze studiously avoided the others. Luc would swear the man was laughing.
“That’s right, Jeff.” Abbie fluttered her eyelashes at him in a coquettish manner. “Remember last night…at Abuela Rosa’s?” Her voice lowered, filled with the innuendo of passion-filled flirtation and stolen kisses, as she used magic to charm the asshole. “I explained how strange it was that Ari had died so suddenly.”
She licked her lips. Walden’s pale blue gaze—and Sam’s neon blue one—locked onto her tongue as it carefully wetted every millimeter of her rosy lips, still swollen from their morning sexual activity. Luc’s cock hardened even more behind the restraint of his jeans, reacting to her tone and the images of what those lips and tongue could do. He manfully restrained himself from stepping between her and the other men in the room. He did growl “Adams” under his breath, warning the man off. Sam shot him a “what did I do?” look.
Abbie ignored their byplay and continued bespelling Walden. “And you agreed, Jeff, and then signed an authorization. My mother and uncle were ever so grateful that they have already sent the checks for your re-election campaign.” Pausing to allow the implications of those words to sink in, she added, “Did the nice waitress get you a cab? Poor baby, you’d fallen asleep before we even got to order. She assured me they put people in cabs all the time. No need to be embarrassed. Some people can’t hold their liquor.”
His witch was a nasty little cat. He was so proud.
“No fucking cab.” Walden glared at Abbie, her spell falling apart with his anger. “Someone called the cops.”
Abbie turned to look at Luc. A raven black eyebrow raised, her eyes shooting green fire. Luc!
Oops, forgot to tell you about that. He smiled and shrugged. What did you expect, baby? That I’d let him maul you and get away with it? At least I didn’t beat the fucker up…which was my first thought.
I gave the waitress a hundred bucks to handle it!
And I gave her another hundred to call the police.
Abbie shook her head then turned back to Walden. “Don’t look at me, Jeff. I asked the waitress to put you in a cab.” Her expression dared Walden to call her on it. And the poor sap couldn’t, because he couldn’t remember exactly what happened. His little witch’s spell-casting had assured that.
“Why are you here, Walden?” Luc effectively cut off the current line of conversation and moved them back on topic.
“And how did you find me?” Abbie added.
“Your secretary told me where you were.” Walden ignored Luc. “I came to tell you that Austin’s PD is on the case.” He fixed an icy blue stare on Abbie. “And to tell you to keep your cute nose out of it. This is police business now.”
“Luc and I have a client.”
“Who?” Walden’s emotions, a mixture of anger, suspicion, and thwarted lust, flashed within his aura like heat lightning.
“None of your business, Walden.” Luc’s hands fisted at his side. He didn’t like the tone Walden directed toward Abbie. The man seriously needed an attitude adjustment—or maybe a broken nose and some bruised ribs.
“Luc, let me handle this.” Abbie’s softly spoken words were like a cool, calming breeze against his overheated skin. Damn, he’d been preparing to shift and she had sensed it.
Walden turned to leave then stopped. He eyed Luc. “Stay out of our way, Knight. If you impede the official investigation, I’ll have your license.” Then he left the room, shouldering Sam aside. The door slammed shut behind him.
“Well, that was fun.” Sam walked toward the beat-up sofa. Luc cut him off before the cop could sit next to Abbie. Instead, he sat next to her, his body crowding hers. Sam laughed and changed direction to lean against the wall Luc had abandoned. “So, how did you get the consent signed, Abbie? Walden went ballistic when the Medical Examiner’s call came through.”
“What were you doing in his office?” Luc drew Sam’s attention away from Abbie, giving her time to decide on what to tell the cop.
“Preparing for testimony in another case.” Sam shot him an “as if you really cared” look. “Abbie? Answer my question.” Luc growled at Sam’s tone. “Back off, Knight. Let her answer. She’s not in trouble as far as I’m concerned. Ariana Huntingdon’s death had suspicious written all over it. An autopsy should have been a given. Walden’s a political hack and cares only for seeking good press—and campaign donations—and not justice. I hate politics.”
Luc laughed, liking the cop despite the man’s amorous glances directed at his little witch. “I’ll answer. My woman,” and he stressed the words, “used a lot of cleavage and a little magic to persuade old Jeff to sign.”
Abbie punched him in the arm. “You could have put it another way.”
“What other way? That’s what you did. Well, I did forget to add that the dress was short, really short—and tight.”
“Luc!” Abbie blushed and jabbed him with an elbow. He laughed and kissed her hot cheek.
Sam laughed. “Well, that would’ve done it for me. I’m sure old Jeff thought he was in hog heaven.” The cop’s gaze shifted toward the cleavage in question, now modestly covered in a silk blouse and tailored jacket. Luc hissed. Sam grinned. “So, what do y’all know that the police should?”
Play time was over. The cop was on duty. He eyed each of them in turn, stopping finally at Abbie’s uncle. “Vidal, you were there the night Mrs. Huntingdon was killed, right?”
“Yes. I sat next to her.” Vidal looked away from Sam’s piercing gaze. “She died in my arms.”
The cop nodded. “I heard.” There was a lot of sympathy in his voice. He shifted his narrowed gaze. “Who’s the client?”
Abbie checked with Vidal, who nodded. She looked at Luc. Tell him, little cat. I may not want him lusting after you, but he’s a good cop. Plus, he’ll understand. Sam had power, although untrained. He accepted the supernatural—well, most of the time.
“Our client is Al Huntingdon,” Abbie replied.
“He’s dead,” Sam said.
“Yeah, we know.” Luc smiled at the dumbfounded expression on Sam’s face. “Vidal was in contact with Al’s spirit as Ari died. Al was the one who clued Vidal into the murders. Same person killed both of them. Al wants justice.”
“Who’s the killer?” Sam eyed Vidal. The cop had gotten first-hand experience with Vidal’s medium abilities during the Jurnik case .
“I don’t know.” Vidal shook his head sadly. “And neither does Al. But it was one of the five people present that night.”
“Shit!” The cop rubbed his fingers through his dirty blond crew cut. “Why isn’t anything ever easy with you people?”
“Sam?” Abbie spoke after he’d finished swearing under his breath. “I take it you’re assigned to the case.”
“Yes.” He swept the three of them with a cynical cop’s eye. “Just for the record, I don’t think Vidal did it—no matter how much Walden wants him to be the culprit. Who had the opportunity to murder her?”
“The only people who could’ve killed her are her butler, Simmons. Her secretary, Rose Connors.” Vidal glanced down at his fisted hands, then back toward the detective. “And…this is hard for me, Sam…her three children.” Vidal’s hands reached toward the cop, beseeching. “Please understand, Ari loved her children, but…well, she knew they had problems. Issues. That’s one of the reasons why she wanted the séance. She wanted to speak to Al about how to handle the kids.”
“And the other reason?”
“To get Al’s blessing on our engagement.” Vidal closed his eyes, tightening his lips against what sounded like a moan of pain.
Sam’s mouth opened and shut several times. “God, I’m sorry, Vidal. Any person dying in your arms is hard…but I wasn’t aware…”
Opening his eyes, Vidal interrupted Sam with a wave of his hand. “Not many knew. Ari and I hadn’t announced it. We wanted to get Al’s approval first, before informing the children.”
“You mentioned the kids had issues. What sort of issues?” Sam moved to a chair, pulled it closer to Abbie and Luc’s position on the sofa, sat, and took out a small notepad.
“I wasn’t totally certain.” Vidal wiped damp eyes with his fingers. “Ari had received several anonymous calls about illegalities in which the three children were involved.”
Sam looked up, his interest piqued. “Illegalities? You have any idea at all what those might have involved?”
“Only as to Lisa. She has a drug habit,” Vidal paused, “and was possibly stealing from her mother to pay for it. But the two boys? No, I don’t know what they were into.”
“Sam, we’ve already got Daniel looking into the backgrounds of all five suspects,” Abbie added for the cop’s benefit.
Sam nodded and made some notes, mumbling under his breath. Finally, he looked up and sighed. “You heard Walden. He wants you out of this, but I’m not too proud—nor stupid. I’ll take any help you want to provide, but on the QT.”
“Does that work both ways, Sam?” Luc asked.
“Yeah, as far as I’m concerned. But you can’t call me at work. Call my cell or my home number—Abbie has them. I especially need your expertise on the preternatural aspects of the case since we again seem to be crossing into areas regular police work can’t go. God knows how I’ll explain any supernatural leads to my boss.”
“We’ll just have to find the kind of evidence which supports our otherworldly knowledge. Don’t worry, Sam. Everything worked out the last time we joined forces.” Abbie smiled at him and patted his knee. She laughed when Luc pulled her hand away and held it in his own. “Shall we designate a time and place to pool initial findings within the next day or two?
“Our offices?” Luc suggested. Predator’s rules: Always invite a potential enemy and/or rival for your woman’s affections to your own turf. He hadn’t liked Abbie touching Sam, nor the flare of arousal he’d smelled coming off the man when she’d done it. He trusted Abbie, but he did not trust the cop. “Say, day after tomorrow at six or so? We can have food brought in.”
“That’s fine with me.” Sam stood up. “I’ll see if I can find any paperwork on Al Huntingdon’s death. Any idea when and how he died so I can zero in on it more quickly?”
“It was a car accident,” Vidal said. “It would have been in the county, Sam. Three years ago this Samhain.” At Sam’s quizzical look, he added, “That’s Halloween. The weather was perfectly calm. No alcohol involved. Medical examiner ruled it an accidental death.”
Sam made a note then shoved the notebook into his jacket pocket. “Okay, I’ll dig up the accident report. Right now I’m off to the autopsy room to make sure the doc orders a full tox screen on Mrs. Huntingdon. Since Vidal didn’t see any obvious weapons, I’m betting on poison or some sort of overdose of a narcotic.”
“That’s what we’re thinking also,” Luc said. “We’ll just pop along with you to see if we can sense—”
“Or scent anything,” Abbie added. “We want to catch the culprit long before the tox results come back.”