Lost in Magic (Night Shadows Book 4) (9 page)

Chapter Fifteen

“I’ll be fine,” Ali repeated to herself as she watched the other passenger step out of the elevator. She’d meant it when she said the words to Mick just minutes ago. It was amazing how quickly doubt could creep in. She didn’t normally consider herself prone to insecurities, but this cruise was proving to her that everyone worried about something. Or, in her case, that she hadn’t properly dealt with the demons that haunted her. Demons …
I hope those aren’t real, too.
Something to ask Mick about. If they ever had another moment together not focused on vampires.
Which is a big “if” now that he’s promised himself to Rhea.

Ali hadn’t met the woman and already she disliked her.

She was so distracted by her thoughts she almost didn’t see Warner in time. He was standing in the hall, between his door and hers. Obviously waiting.

“Allison,” Warner called, reaching for her shoulder as she neared.

Ali jerked, side-stepping awkwardly to keep out of Warner’s reach. “Warner.” She really had no desire to ever speak to this man again. Not after the way he’d barged into her room uninvited. How had she thought she could evade him now?
More importantly, why is it too much to ask to be able to return to my room for a change of clothes in peace?

Arm falling to his side, Warner said, “Tell me what’s going on. Is that guy threatening you? And who was that other man?”

Wow, demanding much?
It amazed her that she’d ever found him remotely attractive. “No, Mick’s not threatening me.”
You are.
“And frankly what’s going on with me is none of your business.” She almost felt guilty for that. Technically all the passengers, Warner included, had a right to know there was a murdering vampire on the ship. But spreading rumors like that would only incite a panic. Panic was the last thing they needed.

Warner frowned and an uncomfortable chill raced down her spine. “Allison,” he said, “don’t be like that. I’m on your side.”

The hell you are.
“No, Warner, you’ve got your own agenda.” She drew herself up and added, “Please step out of my way.”

Something flashed in Warner’s eyes, something she didn’t have time to process. Then he’d grabbed her face and slanted his mouth over hers. His kiss was firm. Frightening. She unfroze, anger thawing her shock, at the first stroke of his tongue over her lips. Acting on instinct, Ali threw herself back and brought her palm down on the side of his face.

“Don’t you
dare
,” she snapped. “Never touch me again.”

Without waiting for his reaction she turned and strode with feigned confidence back the way she’d come. Away from him. No way was she staying alone anywhere near Warner.

The adrenaline was wearing off by the time the elevator reached Mick’s floor. She couldn’t believe she’d hit someone. But she didn’t feel bad about it. If anything she was proud of her reaction. It was the least that scumbag deserved.
I ought to report him.
And if she weren’t busy on a vampire hunt she might have. But Warner was the least of her problems.

Honestly, as screwed up as it was, the vampires barely felt like her biggest problem. She couldn’t get past the imminent threat of Rhea. Mick might have agreed to surrender to her at the end of this, but
she
hadn’t. She wasn’t giving Mick up without a fight.

Not that she intended to tell him that just yet.

Ali pulled her thoughts together, or as together as she could, just in time for Mick to open his door again.

With one arched dark brow Mick joked, “That was fast.” He stepped aside, a frown settling on his face as he likely realized what she didn’t have with her. “What happened?”

Allison released a breath as she plopped back on his sofa. She’d left his room in order to grab a change of clothes, intending to stay the night this time in his room. Partially because of Warner and partially because it was easier to have one place to come and go from than two and Mick insisted she not split from him again. A point he wasn’t going to concede after this story.

“I ran into Warner,” she said before he could repeat his question. She fought a shudder as she remembered Warner’s dry lips pressed into hers. “He was waiting for me.”

Mick cursed and curled his hands into fists in his lap. “And you couldn’t get in without him shoving his way inside again?” It was barely even a question. He’d clearly made the assumption and he was visibly angry about it.

Trying not to be touched over Mick’s upset reaction, Allison shifted until her head was resting against his shoulder. “Honestly, I didn’t even try.” The last thing she wanted was a repeat of the last time Warner had been around when she’d been alone in her room. She reached out and caught Mick’s nearest fist, wrapping her hands around it and holding on. “He … he’s scaring me, Mick. As much as I hate admitting it.”

Mick laced his fingers through hers. “He won’t touch you, Ali.”

Guilt spiked in her chest and she worried her lip for a moment. She hadn’t wanted to have to tell him this part. “He kissed me.”

“He
what
?” Mick jerked and shot to his feet. “That son of a bitch,” he said on a growl.

Ali watched, torn by conflicting and stupid emotional responses, as Mick paced the small floor space in front of the sofa. A part of her felt guilty for bringing this to him. It wasn’t her intent to ask for his
help
in dealing with Warner, but realistically she should at least have someone she trusted who
knew
the whole situation. And then there was the part of her that was touched by Mick’s display of protective anger. It made her feel … special. Important. In a way she wasn’t prepared to analyze. But she wasn’t the kind of woman who got off on having a man fight for her. She’d rather have a man stand beside her and support her while she fought her own battle.

Right?

Did this situation with Warner qualify as a battle? Was she over-analyzing it?

An odd, grainy sound caught her attention and Ali focused in time to see some of the soil from the potted plant in the corner lift up as if of its own volition. It lifted, swirled, and only then did Ali realize Mick was standing a foot or so away, his arm outstretched. This was his power. He was using his power, for some reason she couldn’t distinguish. Suddenly she couldn’t take her eyes away.

She watched as Mick spread his fingers wide and the soil splayed flat on the air. It held there until Mick brought his fingers in tight and rotated his wrist deliberately up, his palm facing the ceiling. The soil rolled over itself from the outer edges, flipping and flattening again, this time in a tall, narrow line. Mick curled his fingers into a tight fist. The soil rushed into a tight, perfect sphere. No crumbles falling away. Barely a sound. Mick suddenly jerked his wrist, snapping it out from its upside down position as if he’d tossed something. The soil mimicked the gesture, launching back into the pot it had lifted from.

Ali watched as Mick released a breath and let his arm fall to his side. “Mick?”

“Sorry,” he said, his tone calmer. Controlled. He turned and managed a small smile. “When I feel my temper slipping it helps to focus on my magic.”

She returned his smile, understanding dawning. “Like a good work out,” she said. Her gaze flicked to the small plant. “But could that little display really be much exercise?” Or did he just not need much? She wished she understood this witch stuff better.

Mick grinned and gestured for her to join him. “It’s enough for now,” he said. “Magic works best with verbal incantations.” He cringed. “Well, not anything complicated like in movies, but simple stuff. Stand still.” The last was added as an afterthought when she was standing at his side.

He held his arm out again and this time he opened his mouth. “
Carmina.
” The accent, like the word, that he spoke was foreign to Allison. But from what she knew about languages it sounded vaguely Latin.

A moment after Mick’s word hit the air soil lifted from the pot once more, this time arcing up and out as if in a wide spiral. Allison watched as it spiraled toward her, following the slow sweep of Mick’s palm. When Mick had turned to face his palm toward her the dirt circled her, maintaining a shifting spiral around her body. Up, then back down, the particles of the soil widening and narrowing up the length of the curve in an amazing optical illusion.

“
Venite,
” Mick commanded. This time Allison picked up on an undercurrent of authority in his voice. The difference in his accent had caused her to miss it before. The soil responded immediately, spinning away from her without once touching her. It gathered all at once above his open palm, hovering in a loose, spiraling sphere. He held his hand above the pot again and said, “
Revertere
.”

“Wow,” Ali said softly as the dirt once again returned to the base of the plant. “That was amazing.”

He offered her a small smile and let his arm fall to his side. “That’s how it usually works. For most witches it’s almost impossible to command their element without a verbal command.”

Arching a brow at him, Allison said, “But you didn’t use any earlier.”

“Not out loud,” Mick said. “I can do some things, depending on my level of concentration, without more than a force of will. But most things require a mental command.”

“Mental command,” Ali repeated. “So you think really hard at it?”

This time he grinned. “Basically. And the hard stuff I still have to do verbally.”

Allison reached out and grabbed his wrist, the same one that had been guiding the dirt, turning his hand palm up. Slowly tracing his lifeline she asked, “But if you can do any of that without a spoken command, doesn’t that make you … powerful? Wouldn’t you be important?” Why would this Council he’d spoken of want to punish one of their stronger witches?

There was a more familiar tone in Mick’s voice when he replied, “Yes and no. I am considered among the strongest earth witches of my generation.” He paused and the tension in the arm beneath her fingertips doubled. “But that’s all the more reason to take a firm stand with me.”

“That’s stupid,” she murmured, tracing one of the long horizontal lines beneath his fingers. His hand was so normal. No evidence of its true power—or the delicious things it was capable of—displayed itself on his skin. No smudge of dirt or whatever else she might have expected to see.

“Ali,” Mick said, his voice thickening. “If we want to get back to searching, you need to stop.”

She looked up, understanding that threat completely. And a part of her was sorely tempted to shirk their responsibilities in favor of more time in Mick’s arms. But she knew she’d only feel guiltier for that choice come morning.
Remember Jude.
She needed to hold on to that guilt. It would help her focus. So she released his hand before she could do something impulsively seductive—like suck one of his fingers into her mouth.

Mick sighed, the sound exaggerated, and stepped up to her. “I was afraid you’d make that choice,” he teased before tilting her head up with a curved index finger. He caught her lips in a lingering, leisurely kiss that sent delicious chills down her spine. His tongue stroked hers slowly and heat pooled low in her belly. He threaded his fingers through hers, holding both their arms to the side and making her want to touch him more. She clutched his hands and chased his tongue into his mouth, leaning forward in an effort to deepen the kiss.

He only let her control it for a minute before pulling away with a husky, “You’d better be careful, baby. I might just remember I’m on vacation.”

Ali smiled and eased back onto her feet properly. She already knew they’d be spending hours together in the room later. First she needed to be responsible. “So what do we do next, then?”

Mick brought her knuckles to his lips before responding. “We need to try to get the old man alone,” he said. “Or, better, to get his friend alone. But that’s less likely to happen.”

“Why would that be better?”

With a partial shrug Mick said, “I get the feeling he’s subservient. That means he’s weaker.”

And weaker would be easier to deal with. She didn’t need to have that explained to her.

Suddenly an image of Veronica, sitting on that sofa in Seth Hunter’s condo and trying valiantly to smile at her, popped into Allison’s head. It had been the last time she’d seen her best friend. In some ways it felt like that woman, though she wore Veronica’s face, wasn’t Veronica at all. Like she’d already lost her. When she’d left that building, and her best friend, she’d hoped she’d never see another vampire in her life. Never spend another
minute
dealing with vampires and the paranormal scene.

Allison’s head found Mick’s shoulder without warning and she held his hands tightly.

“Ali?”

“Sorry,” she managed to say, tears stinging her eyes. She fought them back and straightened after a long, silent moment. “My best friend … she was Turned, or whatever the word is, less than a year ago. I’ll never see her again and it’s all because her life got overrun by vampires. She fell in love with one and another one nearly killed her, as I understand it. She was dead either way, but … I haven’t made peace with it yet.”