Hot Magic (18 page)

Huh? “What are you talking about?”
 

“You truly know nothing of your heritage, do you?” Luc shook his head. “How does Jean expect you to blossom, when she gave you no roots?”

Very good point, but she was the only one allowed to criticize her grandmother. “My roots might not be as long as your roots, but they work. I’m blossoming quite well, thank you.”

Luc’s eyes darkened and the breath caught in her lungs. The atmosphere between them changed as quickly as a cloud scuttles over the sun. She knew, without a doubt, that he wanted her. Not in the knee-jerk way most of her dates did, hoping an evening would end in sex but philosophical if it didn’t. No. This man
wanted
her. The depth of his desire and the possessiveness in his eyes scared her. She couldn’t breathe.

“Tasha.” He spoke softly, and she thought he took a piece of her when he named her. “Don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you.”

“Stop,” she ordered, not sure what she was asking him to do.

Something flashed through his eyes. His lips curved in a wry smile. He lowered his head in a nod of acceptance.

She took a sip of her drink, her hand trembling. Her brain, her nerves, her world, felt short-circuited. “Does everyone in France talk like you do?”

“Not to you, if they wish to stay healthy.” He stated the words simply, yet she read the intent on his face.

Her eyes widened. His lips twisted in another self-mocking smile. “Ignore me, Tasha. This has been a difficult week.” His eyes cleared, no hint of the dark possession clouding them. “I believe talking with Jean may provide a clue to Marguerite’s behavior, which will help us to protect your mother. Will you come to Chicago with me and convince your grandmother to at least listen to my questions?”

She should say no. She wasn’t like her dad. She found her adventures in her books. She had to study tonight. Her schedule was planned. And yet….

Luc’s face was carefully expressionless as he waited. This man could hurt her. Not in a physical sense, she had no fear of that. But he touched her deep inside, in a place she didn’t recognize, a place no one had ventured before. She understood, with soul-deep certainty, that such a touch was capable of bringing both amazing joy and unimagined pain. Going with him might provide a clue to the behavior of crazy Marguerite, but it was also taking a big risk, a definite step away from the safe and familiar world that she cherished.

Of course, that safe and familiar world had already become just an illusion. Her mother was in danger. Really, there wasn’t a choice.
 

She stood. “Okay. I’ll go with you. How do we do this? Plane, train or automobile?” While she waited for his answer, she began putting together a mental To Do list:
 
Call her mother to let her know where she was going, call Grandma to beg her to talk to Luc when they arrived, send another text to Leslie, stop by the dorm to pack an overnight bag and grab her books, and reconfigure her study schedule so she’d still be on target for the art history test.

Luc rose and took her hand. “It will be quicker to travel with earth energy.”
 

Tasha frowned. “That’s not a new kind of car fuel, is it?”

He laughed and led her out of the brightly lit food court and into a shadowed corner beside the wide stairs leading to the main floor.
 

“Luc?”

He turned and firmly pulled Tasha against his chest. The strength in his arms surprised her. Before she could analyze how his lean hardness felt against her softness, an odd tingling suffused her body. Her head began to whirl like when she was little and had spun in endless circles, arms held wide to embrace the world. This felt different than the time she’d popped through space with Harrison. She closed her eyes tightly, concentrated on keeping the contents of her stomach in her stomach and prayed for a quick trip.

Chapter Ten

J
ulie unlocked her front door and walked into the living room. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
 

Harry followed behind carrying a now-empty picnic basket. “It was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”
 

She tried not to read more into the words than he might mean. After the discussion about Jack and love, they’d talked about nothing serious, as if both had needed a break from the real world for a while. Several times, Harry had grown quiet and she’d known he was fighting some internal battle not to let the curse and Marguerite’s presence ruin their day. Thursday night was the full moon. He only had two nights before he’d be rid of the curse.

Julie found that she was strangely comfortable with him, able to relax in a way she hadn’t been able to with her ex-husband. Jack got bored easily, and she’d always felt like she needed to amuse or interest him. With Harry, she could be herself. Jack had thought her flights into fantasy were odd and irritating; Harry had taken the whole Olympic thing in stride.

She took the basket from him and set it on the kitchen counter next to the phone. “I’m going to try calling Mom again. I’m worried about her.” Julie punched in her mother’s number, unease settling over her when she heard her mother’s recorded voice:
This is Jean’s answering machine. Leave a message, if you dare. I’ll call back, if I care.
 

Julie lifted the phone from her ear and stared at it. “I hate phones.”

“Nasty buggers,” Harry agreed solemnly. He sat at her kitchen table, long legs stretched out before him.
 

 
“Maybe Tasha has heard from her.” Julie suddenly wanted to touch base with her daughter to assure herself she was all right. Unfortunately, Tash didn’t pick up her dorm room phone or her cell. “I really hate phones.”

“Alexander Graham Bell has a lot to answer for.” Harry stood from the table and walked behind her, standing so close she felt his warm breath on her neck. “Relax, Julie.” He echoed her words from the morning. His hands slowly rubbed her shoulders.

Julie knew that Harry had probably never rubbed anyone’s shoulders in his life. The fact that he was trying to comfort her, to give her what she’d given him that morning, almost undid her. Of course, Harry’s hands on her body were anything but relaxing, as he might guess if he could see the nipples poking against her shirt. She could, however, barely remember why she’d been tense. Oh, her disappearing family. Right. She wasn’t usually such a worrier, but Bas and his talk of demons scared her. “Where do you think everyone is?” The words were embarrassingly breathy.
 

“It’s Tuesday evening. Your mother is out playing bingo, and your daughter is at the library, her phone on mute,” Harry murmured.
 

“Mother does play strip bingo,” Julie admitted, her bones melting under his touch even as her nerve endings hummed to attention. She turned her head to the side and her breath caught at how close he was.
 

“The Council advised me to stay away from you.” He leaned in closer, as if to physically to negate the words.

“They did? Why? They don’t even know me.” How stupid that she felt hurt by a bunch of people she’d never met. She shrugged out of his hold and turned to face him. She wanted to take a step forward. Instead, she took a step back and leaned against the kitchen wall, arms strategically crossed over her breasts.

He narrowed his eyes at her move. “They believe you’re dangerous.”

“Just because I took your shirt off in a meeting? That was an accident. It could happen to anyone.”

“Your contribution to my lack of proper attire is not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“We’re working hard to put back the governing structure that used to guide and organize the Triad before the Rift. You’re viewed as a potential distraction and danger to me. The Council is concerned about the possibility of our bonding.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not a distraction to you, and you have no intention of allowing a bond.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” His brooding gaze lingered on her lips.
 

“I think it’s wrong that a Balance doesn’t bond or get married. Not that I’m a marriage advocate, but some people, like Mom and Dad, or like Dorie and Jim, have great relationships. I’m sorry you don’t have the possibility of that, too.”
 

“You’re a romantic or an idealist,” he said, with amused condensation.
 

“I’m an American.” Where was her red, white and blue flag when she needed to wave it?

“Which means—what? You believe in personal freedom at any cost?” Harry looked suddenly older, cynical. “The Balance doesn’t bond for the protection of the Triad. The position loses the perception of impartiality if he or she is mated.”

Okay. She could see the logic in that. It helps to stay out of bed with the people you have power over. But who actually did that, except maybe the Pope? “What about Walkers, Dancers and other Penumbrae? Can they have a mixed marriage?”

“There’s no law against it. Most of the resulting children are powerless, as if the different energies cancel each other out. But not every mixed couple gets lucky. Some of the children have wild powers. We have to banish those offspring.”

“Banish the offspring?” That sounded ominous.
 

“Yes. Their very lack of control threatens our safety and anonymity.” He didn’t go into detail.

Julie took a deep breath, suddenly understanding the fear he could generate. Had he been the one to send the children away? “That’s inhumane.”

“No. What’s inhumane is to allow the slaughter of our people, which is what would happen if our true nature were exposed to normal humans.”

 
“Harry, get real. You guys are much stronger than we are.”

“Julie, you’re not one of the normal humans.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Psychologically I am. I was raised normal.” She thought of her mother. “Sort of.”

He apparently decided not to argue the point. “We’re different, but not necessarily stronger than most humans. Humans wield their own kind of power, and there are many more of them than there are of us. We have no wish to fight. We’ve experienced what fear can do to us many times in the past.”

“Witch trials?”

“Yes. That’s one example.”

Julie frowned. “No one should have to hide who they are. I don’t think you give humans enough credit.”

“Do you read history books or even yesterday’s news?” Anger flashed in his eyes.
 

“We don’t have to repeat mistakes of the past. You underestimate human nature’s ability to change.”
 

 
“And maybe I don’t.” he said, his anger now morphed into a look of weariness.

“I’m not out to change anything. I just want to—”

The tension in his face eased into a smile as he finished her sentence, “enjoy your quiet middle years.”

 
“Right.” She nodded. Her hip shifted and brushed against him. “Not to change the subject or anything, but why are we standing so close together?”
 

“It’s easier to kiss you this way.”
 

“Oh?” She swallowed, forgetting about everything but the golden glow in his eyes.

“Oh.” He murmured, intently watching her lips. “I’m waiting for you to stop talking.”

“Like that’s going to happen.” She nervously licked her lips and watched his eyes deepen to bronze. “Aren’t you afraid if we kiss we might bond and, I don’t know, the known world might blow up or something?”

He smiled. “Not the world, just the Council. They’d remove me as Balance.” His smile faded. “I’m not planning to have sex with you.” His voice sounded cool and controlled, in direct contrast to the heat of his gaze.

Julie ignored the zip of disappointment that coursed through her. “Of course not. I didn’t think you were. That would be stupid. But—”

He kissed her. Apparently he realized the futility of waiting for her to be quiet.
 

There was nothing cool or controlled about his kiss. He pulled her body flush against his. His lips slammed into hers, hard and hungry. There was no space between them, and still his arms tightened until she thought nothing would ever be able to separate them. His lips moved over hers again and again, like he couldn’t get enough of her. Heat pooled in her body, spreading out to her limbs, licking her, fogging her brain. Her hands found his thick hair and she threaded her fingers through the strands, tugging, trying to bring his head closer even though that was impossible.

She heard noises. A thumping heart beat, a ragged gasp for air, a sigh that ended in a moan, soft pings and the chime of shattering glass. She ignored them all as her hands worked Harry’s shirt from the grasp of the black leather belt at his waist. Her hands touched the hot skin of his back and for a moment, his whole body stilled.
 

Then his tongue was in her mouth, his hands against her cheeks, holding her, and he felt good, so good. She wanted to touch him everywhere. Her hands slid over the smooth skin of his back, found the indentation of his waist and lowered to the tight curve of his buttocks. His muscles were lean and rock hard. They clenched tighter beneath her seeking fingers. She spread her legs slightly and moved her hips, gasping at the sensation.