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  The car made its way to the right at the fork in the road. Art got up and stood at attention next to Ray’s rocking chair and whined again. “Dang it. Had to come our way. Could have ignored him if he’d gone on to George’s place.” He took the last drink from his bottle of beer. “Come on, kids. Looks like we need to scare off some trespassers.”

  Didn’t happen often but occasionally young lovers would find their way out this far to sneak some privacy. Once, he had interrupted a drug deal back in the old caves. None of it bothered him any. A change in routine was usually appreciated. But tonight he was too tired. He grabbed the shotgun from where he’d leaned it against the doorframe.

  The dogs made their way to his Ford Ranger, climbing in as soon as Ray opened the driver’s side door. He looked at his two dogs sitting like little humans on the bench seat. No truck bed for them. They were tired from the earlier hunt and were riding in style this time out.

  From the direction of the taillights, the car was heading for the caves. He’d have no trouble sneaking up on them there. He checked his cell signal. So far up on this side of the mountain, a connection was iffy at best.

  No backup tonight. Ray Burgess was on his own. Good. Back on the force, he’d have avoided some issues if that had been the case more often. Especially the main issue that had gotten him tossed off the police force and called up by the Council.

  No sense crying over spilt milk. Ray glanced at Art and Lulu. “Time to go ruin someone’s night.”

  Chapter Two

  Ray signaled the dogs to lie down and hush when he was close enough to the cave opening to see what the trespasser was up to. They were good hunting dogs and he didn’t worry about them giving away his position. He crouched down and cautiously peered into the cave.

  The intruder wasn’t what he’d expected at all. No drunk kids, no lovers trying to get a stolen moment in the moonlight. Nope. It was a woman. One with a very pleasing shape at that, and she looked to be spreading out all the necessary components for a spell.

  Well, well, well.

  Too bad she was facing away. Then the woman knelt and bent forward, and the view got better and better. Maybe this was the best seat for the show after all. She straightened to sit on her heels, tossing her hair over her shoulders. It fell in dark waves to the middle of her back.

  Ray could only see three of the candles she’d set out. Not one of them was quite on the correct spot to correspond with the compass in his brain. He felt the earth through his magic. The rotation of the planet, the pull of gravity and how his body was positioned in relation to her axis were all as much of his existence as the color of his eyes. He could nail true north blindfolded after a six-pack. Most Witches and Sorcerers could from childhood. Missing the mark as bad as she was could be asking for trouble.

  She fumbled with lighting the candles and then put the flame to a bundle of desert sage. His body tingled at the smell of the burning herb she was using to smudge the circle and cleanse it of energy that wasn’t hers. He tamped down his magic, as it wanted to respond. It had been a long time since he’d woven a good, strong spell and that part of him called to the energy she was building, no matter how poorly the curvy woman had constructed her circle. She wasn’t a Witch, but she had some water-based power she was calling.

  Ray closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him. It was sensual and cooling, like a sudden spring rain shower. His body responded to the growing energy with a tidal wave of goose bumps. Amazingly, the touch of her power was arousing him physically as well as emotionally. His body wanted to be a part of hers, to share the exotic energy, wallow in it, soak in it. And when she was done he’d be left sated and refreshed from a simple brush of her power. He’d have a cigarette.

  Ray shook himself. Where the hell had that come from? He hadn’t touched a cig in years. But for just an instant, he’d felt the desire for one as strong as he ever had. He noted the skin of the woman’s arms had changes slightly. A shimmering blue-green glowed from within her.

  Cool. She was a Demon, but she didn’t finish the shift. Her off-key chanting filled the night. His brain started churning. Ray’s cop mode set in without much provocation, which made the sensual feel of her energy fade. The pleasant feeling was replaced by his normal pessimistic, angry thrum. Why would a Halfling be out here trying to do a complicated spell? Life experience told him it wasn’t because she was cross training with witchcraft.

  The chanting wasn’t a spell or incantation he recognized, but that didn’t surprise him. She could have her own grimoire or be using a spell someone wrote for her. He had no clue, but he intended to find out.

  He gave the dogs the signal to stay but chuckled to himself as he glanced back. Neither looked as if they would have moved if he called them to point. Lazy hounds.

  As he stood, he felt a cold shiver. Goose bumps crawled down his back. Ray looked around for the source of this unrest. No one there. Then he looked up to see a dark cloud against the moonlit sky, moving fast, heading directly for the mouth of the cave. She kept up the chant. He crouched low once more to avoid the incoming throng.

  A disorganized cloud of wings fluttered past but he couldn’t make out what they were. He reached up and plucked one from the air.

  Moths. Huge, dark moths with silver and blue markings on their wings. More bad mojo. The curvy Halfling was losing points fast. Her magic may be sexy as all get out but he was going to have to break up her little spell party and send her on her way. He wanted no part of anything that the Council or the Prime would consider illegal magic anywhere near him or his property. He’d managed to stay in the woods and out of trouble for three years.

  As he stood, larger, stronger wings beat past his head. He had to duck to avoid being battered. With the candlelight in the cave, he made out the shape of two large owls, circling tight, snatching the moths from the air. A feast for the flying beasts.

  “No!” She stumbled as she swung at the owls with her bag, trying to prevent them from eating the moths. The owls were jetting back and forth, picking the moths out the air madly. Her efforts were futile. The owls were determined. “Get away! Dang it. Stop!”

  Movement on the ground caught his eye. Several of the giant moths had landed on a strange wooden box and seemed to…meld with it?

  Yes. They were literally melting into the box, turning to gold as they did so. Amazing.

  As the girl caught and placed more moths on the box, he felt power emanating from it. When it was almost covered, she gently ushered the last moth into place. This one changed to gold as well, but it was different. His wings were gold, but his body shimmered into a diamond the size of Art’s rabies tags.

  What the hell?

  The box must be worth a fortune. The moths and the owls lost his attention. The box had its own power—strong power—and Ray didn’t like the feel of it. It was humming, calling out, luring. Quite the contradiction to the smooth, sensual power the girl had used just a few moments ago. No. This was cold, sickening. Ray knew evil when he felt it. Blood magic.

  Blood magic had gotten him in hot water with the Council and thrown off the police force. He wanted her and her evil, shiny box off his land. Now. She started the chant again. Ray was now standing in full view, in the opening of the cave, but she hadn’t noticed him. From this angle, he could see she was crying hard. Curiosity won out over sanity. He couldn’t help wondering what was about to happen.

  Ray quietly took a step or two closer and could see there was an intricate collage of moth outlines etched in the gold. In the center, the gold-and-diamond moth stood upright.

  The girl bit her lip before closing her eyes and raising her hand. Ray held his breath and took a cautious step back toward the opening of the cave. She pressed her palm to the diamond moth and pushed it down, pressing it tight to the box…

  A bright orange light blasted through the wide cave, sending the owls and remaining moths banging and fluttering to find an escape. Ray covered his eyes. He heard the girl scream. She pulled her han
d away.

  And the box opened.

  Her shoulders and chest heaved with sharp, heavy breaths. The rush of strong blood magic filled Ray’s lungs. She was calling it. And it was too much power. Judging from her inexperience in setting her circle and casting, he guessed she was losing control. Her body was falling away from the box but her mind was still beckoning the magic. Dangerous stuff he wished he could walk away from. Last thing Ray Burgess needed was another scuffle with the Council. He’d be banished to another realm.

  He rushed past her and kicked the box. It hurt his foot even through his boots. The thing tumbled deeper into the cave and the lid sprang forward, but didn’t shut completely. The woman’s screams intensified as she struggled to maintain a hold on the stream of power that still surged from the box to her chest in a glowing, acid-green beam.

  He had to find a way to break that beam. He looked around and saw nothing that would help. No way was he going to walk through it, either. He didn’t want any more of that evil magical residue on him than necessary.

  Art howled. Ray rushed to the truck and snapped up the bear trap under his seat. Not that he ever actually hunted bear, but it was a cool thing to have and you never knew. If he thought someone was sniffing ’round his place, he could set out a few around the tree line. Probably break an ankle if the thing clamped down on a human leg, Ray figured as he pried open the massive metal jaws.

  The girl was now sweating and her eyes had rolled back into her head. Moths and owls still battled overhead. This was one of the craziest things he’d ever seen, and that was saying something for a guy who was once an inner-city police officer.

  He quickly tossed the trap toward the box and the metal clamped down on the gold, denting it slightly. But it closed the nasty thing, and he could pull it away from her.

  With a hearty jerk, he yanked it back into the open woods. The immediate reduction in the onslaught of evil magic let Ray breathe a small sigh of relief. The girl had stopped screaming but now she looked unconscious. Great.

  He had illegal magic being perpetrated on his property, a passed-out stranger with a gorgeous ass, and some kind of blood magic talisman that was certainly illicit as hell.

  Sonja tried to pull back from the fierce burning in her brain. Everything felt foggy and the few shadows of movement she thought she saw through the haze made no sense. It didn’t feel quite as evil as she had anticipated—but it was bad enough. And it hurt. She wanted to hold her head but her hands weren’t responding to the request for motion.

  She felt as if she were floating. Or sinking. Yes. It was like being pulled backward, away from something she knew she should fight to stay close to. Clouds started rolling in. She recognized it as the beginning of a vision like none she’d ever had.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  She was lying naked in a clearing. A soft, fluffy down comforter felt wonderfully luxurious against her bare skin. Above, clouds danced by, making interesting shapes as she let the warmth of the sun embrace her. She looked straight ahead and saw trees, but heard no sounds. No birds or bugs or leaves dancing in the breeze that moved the clouds.

  A man in a plaid shirt and worn jeans walked out of the woods. His shoulder-length, curly black hair also moved with the breeze. Why didn’t the leaves? His pace was relaxed. His broad shoulders and muscled arms swung at his sides, giving him the confident gait of a man on a mission.

  Sonja looked in another direction. More trees. She looked behind her. The same. Maybe she was his mission. The thought made her smile. Her body warmed even more. Looking down the length of her body, Sonja noticed her skin held the radiance of a light tan, something she’d never had before. Her stomach was free of the scars and red discoloration.

  She reached to touch the unblemished skin. Her breath caught as she brushed her fingers over the smooth expanse. Tiny hairs tickled. The echo of her breath was the only sound she heard. Very otherworldly. Was she actually in another realm?

  The man finally reached her and fell to his knees at her feet. Sonja was lying back, propped up on one elbow. Her other hand rested on her belly. The man’s bushy beard did little to disguise his desire, especially the heat in his blue eyes.

  His hands rested on the tops of her feet and, excruciatingly slowly, he inched them up her calves. She couldn’t keep her gaze from darting back and forth between the fiery look in his eyes and those hands that were obviously accustomed to lots of physical labor.

  His attention was also wandering. She wasn’t sure where he wanted to look more, her breasts or between her slightly spread legs. When his hands reached her knees, he let them fall inward to caress the insides of her thighs, just above her knees. He was in a position to push her knees open, but didn’t. Instead he stopped moving, except for a tender fingertip caress on one inner thigh. His gaze continued to roam her body freely as the sun beat down on her tanned skin. Neither had said a word.

  It was one of the sexiest things she’d ever experienced.

  No. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced.

  Sonja felt bold and unusually confident in this new skin. Desire was pulsing through her body, along with her heated blood. She let her legs fall farther open, exposing herself to the stranger with the rich blue eyes. He froze for an instant and she felt his fingers dig slightly into her flesh before he leaned closer and his hands continued the path up her thighs. He inched his knees a little closer, stopping with his body between her calves and his fingers so close to her pussy she considered moving to initiate contact. Her breathing was still the only sound echoing through the still air.

  She was bare from head to toe and he was still completely clothed. She noticed his heavy boots were leaving mud on the comforter. She didn’t care. It wasn’t hers. Even if it had been, all she cared about right this minute was feeling his touch on her swollen clit. She looked back to his face.

  The thick beard covered his chin and cheeks. The lips peeking through looked full and kissable, the nose long and a little wide, with a tiny scar on the bridge. And those eyes were smoking hot. She couldn’t contain herself. She wiggled her bottom, making his fingers brush her outer lips. She moaned.

  His gaze met hers. A sly smile curved his lips. He brought one hand slowly to his lips and sucked two fingers into his mouth. The mysterious stranger was making her crazy. She wanted him to touch her, to take her. She fought the urge to reach up and grab him. To take control. Sonja had never felt this free. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

  Slick fingers parted her folds and rubbed over her clit. Her eyes shot open. She was not going to miss this. She looked down her body again and the smooth skin didn’t feel so out of place this time. It was heated by desire and she knew the tender flesh of her pussy felt warm under his massaging fingertips. He was giving her just the right amount of pressure, his two-fingered strokes doubling the delight as her body writhed under his attention.

  When he slid the thumb of his other hand into her slick channel, Sonja cried out with no shame or worry of being heard. Her body tightened from her shoulders to her toes. She fell back, unable to maintain her balance on her elbow. She intentionally clenched her pussy, squeezing his thumb with her muscles, intensifying her own experience.

  Her climax exploded as the stranger stroked her clit and pumped his thumb in and out of her wet pussy. She rolled her head back and forth, gripped the soft comforter and let a whining moan escape her lips.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Sonja bolted upright, her hand on her side. Even through the fabric of her shirt, she felt the rough texture of the scars.

  She shook her head to clear the vision. He body tingled as if she really had just experienced a beautiful orgasm, her breathing still erratic. Was that really a vision? It was completely unlike the usual snatches of images she normally managed. Maybe a dream?

  Then she remembered…

  The box.

  The last thing she remembered was the uncontrollable blast of power. She quickly tried to center her energy. It didn’t feel sinis
ter. Maybe the spell she’d found in her grandmother’s book had saved her from the worst of the evil that spilled out of that necklace.

  Satisfied she was still the same person she’d always been, she realized her hand was throbbing. Sonja looked at her palm. The mark of the Black Witch moth…just like the one Nell had. She grimaced at the likeness of the moth forever burned on her skin. All she needed was more scars.

  Then she concentrated on her surroundings—and realized she wasn’t in her own home.

  She was in a decidedly masculine log cabin. The couch was covered in denim and the walls had little in the way of decoration, barring a large stuffed deer head above a stone fireplace. A lone chair sat next to the couch, with a wooden crate between the two to serve as an accent table. A single floor lamp provided soft lighting for the room. The windows were covered with heavy blue drapes, like the kind in cheap hotel rooms. Blackouts shades that would let you sleep all day if you wanted. So she had no idea what time it was.

  She needed to get out of here and get to Asheville.

  The box was nowhere to be seen. She tried to feel for it and its icky power. Sucking that power directly from the source had been awful. She hadn’t been prepared for all that energy at once. She had no memory of anything that might have happened between pressing the diamond moth into place and her vision. Leave it to her to have all that energy to boost her psychic abilities and all she got out of it was a sexual fantasy.

  Sonja stood on shaky legs. That had been some blast of power. No wonder Witches and Sorcerers use familiars. And no wonder someone had kidnapped Kara to get the talisman in that box. She moved to the window and peeked out the curtain. It was still dark. Good.

  “Look who’s up.”

  The masculine voice made her jump. Sonja spun around, prepared to demand her property and be on her way—but when her gaze met the blue eyes of her fantasy lover, she could only stand there with her mouth hanging open, all rational thought spinning off into thin air.