The Wizard King (19 page)

The silence as he left the room lasted only until he shut the door. The sound of the women’s outraged shouting had him smiling as he made his way back to the elevator, and his mate.

“So if we do the pendulum scrying we might wind up finding every warlock in the five boroughs instead of just Hugh?” Gen studied the map of New York City with a grimace. “There’s over eight million people living in New York. What are the odds we’d have more than one warlock?”

“Pretty damn good, actually.” Zach rubbed his hand wearily over his face. “I tried doing a scrying spell to look for a missing witch once and instead found every witch in Philadelphia.”

“Was that while you were laboring under the hex?” The curse had messed with Zach’s ability to spell cast, sending most of his spells awry. Things had been escalating to dangerous proportions when Zach finally broke the hex.

“Yeah. Maybe I can focus it better now, but as tired as I am, I’m worried my emotions will affect the outcome.” As Zach was a witch, it was a valid concern. A witch’s emotions influenced their magic. The calmer the witch, the more precise he would be. The angrier the witch, the more punch he’d pack, but he’d tire more quickly and, if the rage became deep enough, could taint his magic, causing him to do something he’d deeply regret later on. A curse from a witch was a powerful thing, something the Beckett family knew well, but karma would come back on the witch threefold.

For example, the witch who’d cursed the Becketts with lycanthropy wound up a giant bunny. She was still whispered about when the topic of a witch’s emotions came up, an example of why witches needed to learn control early on. Zach hadn’t had that early training. His family had been convinced he was a wizard, like everyone else in his family was, so had trained him accordingly.

“What’s the worst that could happen? The warlocks in the city find out we’re searching for Hugh?” She almost laughed, but there was nothing funny about their situation. “The evil ones would actually point us his way just to get us off their backs.” Warlocks, unlike wizards and witches, worked alone or in small groups. They had no leader, no court, and relied on no one. Even the good ones tended to live alone or with their families, with no support network other than the ones they created themselves. “If you’re worried about it, I could do the spell.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “You’re more exhausted than I am. Give me the pendulum.”

Gen handed it over without another word. He was right. She could barely feel her magic, just that tiny, divine spark that still sat within her. Her magic hadn’t gone out, she hadn’t burned herself, but she’d come close. Letting Zach do the location spell just made sense.

Zach began to chant, holding the pendulum over the map.

“North to South, East to West,

Guide this pendulum in its quest.

Find the warlock that’s hidden from me.

As I will so mote it be!”

The pendulum began to sway over the map, the look of concentration on Zach’s face intensifying. The crystal pendulum swung faster and faster, in ever widening circles, refusing to settle on any one spot.

Eventually the pendulum swung completely off the map and stilled, almost parallel with Zach’s forearm. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I don’t think he’s in New York anymore.”

Gen’s shoulders sagged. “He could be anywhere, then.”

“Let’s break out the map of the US. Maybe we can start narrowing things down, get a state, then a city. If we can do that, we can find him.”

It was a good idea. Gen started rolling up the map of NYC, when the workroom door was flung open, startling her. She almost knocked over the two red candles that represented her and Gareth, the remnants of the mate spell lingering until he completed it. “Gareth?”

Her mate’s expression was grim. “I hate those bitches.”

“What happened?”

“I’ve disbanded the council.”

Gen gasped. “You can do that?” The council
picked
the king. How in the hell had he managed to disband them?

He nodded, reaching for her in that way he had that had become so dear to her, drawing her close to his side. “It’s a done deal. I won’t have people going behind my back to sabotage me, and I definitely won’t have them threatening to take you away from me. And I can think of one way to make sure no one ever can.”

Gen gasped as Gareth picked her up and slung her over his shoulder. She tried to keep her voice prim as he carried her out of the workroom toward their bedroom, but it was hard when all she wanted to do was laugh. Her caveman mate was finally going to claim her. “I assume we’re going to finish the mate spell?”

“Duh.” Gareth carted her into the bedroom and shut the door, ignoring her nervous giggles. “Get ready for the Gareth love train, baby.”

The giggles intensified as he dropped her on the bed. “Gareth love t-train?” She was laughing so hard she thought she might pee herself.

Gareth puffed out his chest. “Choo choo.”

She couldn’t contain her laughter, despite the fact that he was taking off her clothing. “Thank goodness the love train has a king-size sleeping bunk.”

He stared at her, her blouse half off her body, his hand clenched in the silky fabric. “Did you want to redecorate?”

She blinked.
“Now?”

The evil grin that crossed his face would have scared her if anyone else had directed it at her. “Sure. We can paint the ceiling blue.”

“Blue?” She arched up, letting him get to the hooks of her bra. He slid the shirt halfway down her back and undid the bra, pushing it up her chest. “Why b-oh.”

He lifted his mouth from her nipple. “See? Blue.”

The man was certifiable. She couldn’t speak as he once again sucked her nipple between his teeth. All she could do was struggle to get out of the shirt he’d left half on, trapping her arms at her sides.

He grabbed hold of her arms. “Mm-mm,” he hummed against her breasts, nibbling his way over until he was blowing across her other nipple. “Keep ’em there.”

“Have a bondage kink, sire? Want to tie me to your bed and have your wicked way with me?”

He groaned, his hips thrusting against her leg.

“Oh, someone likes that.” And Gen was willing to explore such a thing, as long as Gareth kept it light and fun. She was willing to do a lot for him she’d never even dared dream of with someone else.

Gareth would sooner cut off his arm than harm her. She trusted him, more than anyone. No one else would ever care for her the way Gareth Beckett did.

He slid his hands down her arms, suckling her breast in a hard rhythm that had her moving under him, her body turning wet and eager for him. Her cries of pleasure only seemed to spur him on, make him even hungrier for her than he already was.

He undid the hook and bar closure on her slacks, cupping her through the wool material. “Do you like these pants?”

She stared at him, horrified, as his claws emerged. “Those are Marc Jacobs.”

“So,
don’t
rip them from your body?”

She growled at him, and he laughed. “I like them, Gareth.”

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He tapped his claws against her leg. “I’ve got a Target card.” He burst out laughing when she pushed herself up far enough on her elbows to bite his chest. “I’ll take that as a no.” He gently shoved her back down before working the pants, panties and shoes off. Her sensible pumps hit the ground with a thud. “I’m still thinking of burning anything gray or beige in your closet.”

“Then I’d walk around naked all the…” She glared at him. Sneaky wolf.

“What?” He grabbed hold of her thighs and spread her legs.

Before she could answer, Gareth began licking her, long, slow strokes of his tongue over every inch of her pussy. Instead of what she’d intended to say, only a squeak came out at the feel of him, wet and hot, gliding over her flesh. He held her open, his hands clenched on her thighs, the claws a cool counterpoint to the warmth of his skin.

Gareth still hadn’t taken a stitch of clothing off. Another little kink? She didn’t know, but the feel of the cloth of his shirt, his jeans scraping against her calves as he moved his legs, only enhanced her own pleasure. She cried out over and over again, whimpers and sighs that had him moaning as he feasted on her.

Her hips thrust against him, the tingle building, growing toward an explosion. She started begging incoherently, needing him to finish what he’d started before she screamed in frustration.

But he didn’t. He left her hanging, climbing to his knees and releasing his cock from his jeans. He shoved them down just far enough that he sprang free before lowering himself over her, the hard head nudging her opening.

“You ready?”

She nodded so hard she was surprised she didn’t hurt herself.

Smiling, Gareth thrust home.

Oh. Oh, Goddess. Yes, she
loved
the feel of the cloth against her skin as he took her. There was something urgent and naughty about needing each other so badly they couldn’t bother to take their clothing off.

They were
so
doing this again, and again. “More. Please, more, Gareth.” She tried to reach for him with her arms, struggling against the makeshift bindings. “I
need
.”

Gareth began biting her neck as he fucked her, but not hard enough yet to break the skin. She knew what was coming, what he was planning, anticipating the pain and the pleasure that would follow. He was going to claim her, speak the words that would finish their mating and make them both whole.

She welcomed him, tilted her head, wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him tightly into her. “Do it.”

“Come first.”

She was close, so close, it wouldn’t take much to drive her over the edge. “Harder. Do it harder.”

Gareth grunted and began pounding into her, the sound loud and obscene in the quiet bedroom.

Gen shrieked as the orgasm ripped through her, blinding her to everything but the overwhelming pleasure.

Pain, sharp and bright, blended with the pleasure, brief and shocking as Gareth choked out the final words of the mate spell.

“Venus has granted the love that I lacked.

My mate is now part of my pack.

By the power of earth and fire,

I claim now my heart’s desire.

By the power of air and sea,

As my mate wills it, so mote it be.”

Then his head fell back, his face became a mask of pleasure, and Gareth poured himself into her, body and soul.

Chapter Twelve

Gareth brushed his fingers over the shadow wolf on Gen’s shoulder, sighing with pure contentment.

Finally. Finally, his mate was his, bound to him by magic, seed and love. No one could take her away; her life was his life. If she left, he, and his wolf, would curl up and die.

“Morning, sire.”

He tapped her on the ass. “Don’t call me sire.”

“Yes, sire.” The laughter in her voice was warm and sleepy. She sounded as content as he was.

“Mine.” Gareth chuckled. That wasn’t at all what he’d meant to say, but he had to admit, he was never going to get enough of saying it.

“Yours.” Gen rolled over, snuggling up against him, her breasts pressing against his chest and her legs tangling with his. “Now what?”

“Hmm?” Oh, he had some ideas.

She pinched his side. “Not that. We have to figure out what to do about Hugh and the council.”

“Urk.” What a way to kill a perfectly good erection. “Next thing you’ll do is mention my mother and totally gross me out.”

“What an excellent idea! She could be on the council.” Gen grinned at him unrepentantly.

“You suck.”

“Only if you ask nicely.” She batted her lashes at him innocently.

Gareth laughed and hugged her. “That’s my girl.”

She held him tightly for a few minutes before sighing. “We really need to get back to work.”

“Five more minutes, ma?”

She poked him in the side. “You disbanded the council who, by the way, did far more than simply pick who would be king. Which of us will be picking up
that
slack, hmm?”

“Damn.” Gareth sighed and rolled over onto his back, pleased when Gen draped herself over him rather than climb out of bed. He put his arm around her, his hand resting just above her ass. “We can make Daniel do it.”

She made a rude noise. “You don’t even know what
it
is. And we need to figure this out before I begin hunting warlocks again.”

He stiffened. He hated the thought of his mate in danger, alone out in the world without him.

“I know what you’re going to say, but you can’t.” She petted his chest. “You know that.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He winced at his petulant tone, but it was the truth.

“I know.” She kissed his chest so softly he almost missed it. “Someone has to do this, Gareth, and I’ve been chosen. Just as you were chosen to be king.”

“You know what I’ll do if you get hurt out there.” He wasn’t willing to admit yet that she was right, even if she was. He couldn’t fight the inevitable. She would go out there, she would hunt warlocks. She’d return battered and bruised, and triumphant.