Throne of Oak (Maggie's Grove) (17 page)

Who the hell knew her shoulder blade could be an erogenous zone?

The voice roared in rage and withdrew, but the simmering anger remained.

“
Te iubesc
,
scumpa mea
.”

She sensed the meaning behind the muttered words, knew what he wanted to say, but Dragos seemed unable to think in English, making the admission that much sweeter. He would say it in English eventually, but for now, she’d hold the words, and their meaning, close to her heart where none could take it from her. Not even Kate.

Once she’d bound him to her in the way of her people, there would be no one and nothing that could come between them.

No one would ever take him from her, or they would face her wrath.

He nudged her legs apart, still murmuring endearments in Romanian. She’d eventually ask what
iubito
,
dulcea mea
and
pui
meant, but the feel of his long cock sliding into her took every thought from her head. She was pinned down, taken, claimed. And she loved every minute of it.

“
Mine.
” Dragos sank his fangs deep into her neck, a white-hot pain that quickly morphed into blinding pleasure. He drew her into him, his mouth working against her flesh as goose bumps ran up and down her body. The orgasm rocked through her, dragged from her willing body by the pull of his lips and the pounding of his cock. “
Te iubesc
,
draga
Mina.”

The great oak shivered with her at his words. For all that he’d pinned her down, held her still while he took her, she was cherished. He made sure there was no doubt in her mind.

He slowed his thrusts as she came down off her orgasm, slowly building the tension back up. Small, barely there kisses dotted her spine and shoulders, his tongue occasionally darting out to touch her skin, leaving cool patches behind. His fingers remained curled around her wrists, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

In her mind, the litany of endearments continued, some in English, some in Romanian, drowning out the howling rage Kate tried to push into her head. Together they held Kate at bay, enjoying each other, flaunting their bond in front of their enemy until she finally retreated.

Mina sighed in relief. Now the real fun could begin.

“Don’t even think about it,
iubito
.” His fangs scraped across her neck. “I like you right where you are.”

He brushed his chin along her neck, his whiskers dragging across her flesh. Gods, was there anything better than the feel of her man’s whiskers on her skin?

“We’ll have to explore that later.”

She could see the vision in his mind, his face buried between her thighs, almost feel his whiskers in her most sensitive places. She moaned, wanting that, needing his tongue on her clit.

Instead, he rasped his whiskers over her neck once more before biting her one last time. When the orgasm raced through her he joined her, pouring himself into her with a muffled groan.

Dragos licked the bites closed with a sigh. “Third time, Mina.”

She grunted. Oh, yeah. She could go for a third time. That vision of his was lodged in her head, and she had every intention of making it a reality.

He chuckled. “No, my
sotiei
. I have taken you, fed from you three times.” His happiness filled her. He would never again be alone, and that knowledge filled them both. “You are mine forever.” He flexed his hips, his still-hard cock dragging inside her, touching her deep.

She grinned, out of breath but ready for whatever he wanted to do to her next.

“I can live with that.”

Chapter Thirteen

When Dragos awoke the next night the moon was high in the sky. His
sotiei
had worn him out the night before. His cock was pleasantly sore, his jaw even more so. She’d been demanding when he’d finally let her up, claiming her due from him.

He’d been more than happy to pay homage to his queen. He was willing to bet it would be days before the whisker burns on her thighs dissipated—one more mark of his claim upon her.

He climbed out of bed and pulled on his slacks, smiling as he did so. He could hardly wait to see what she had in store for him tonight. “Mina?”

No answer.

“Mina?” He strode out of the bedroom, shirtless and shoeless, looking for his mate.

She wasn’t in the house, and she wasn’t answering. His beast stirred within him, ready to hunt, ready to find the one that belonged to them.

Dragos did his best to beat it back down. He needed to use his head, not his instincts. After Kate’s threat, the last thing he wanted was to let his beast loose. The creature might decide the best thing to do would be to take out the one who’d threatened Mina rather than make sure Mina was safe.

He sat on her sofa and closed his eyes, reaching for her in his mind. “
Mina?
”

“
Dragos
,
you’re awake.
Good.
There’s something moving in the forest.
Come up to the Throne—I need you.
”

Dragos opened his eyes and quickly finished dressing before misting through the earth to Mina’s side. His
sotiei
sat on her throne, her hands clenched on the arms. Greer and Ash sat below her, each in their respective thrones. Ash looked ready to do murder, but Greer was grinning like a deranged clown. “What do we have?”

“Van Helsings.” Mina’s eyes were glazed as she communed with the forest. She drew its power and lent her own in a symbiosis he barely understood but felt thrum through his whole being. “They’re moving through the forest again.”

“How are they getting through the protections?”

“They shouldn’t have.” Her gaze turned to him, but she wasn’t seeing him. She was seeing what the forest told her to see. “We need to talk to the witches.”

If the Van Helsings had gotten into the forest then the protections the witches had put in place were failing... Or someone had let them through. Neither was a pleasant prospect to consider before breakfast. “Have they gotten into the town?”

Greer’s grin turned even more vicious, and Ash practically leapt off his throne. She frowned, her eyes moving, watching something he couldn’t see. “I don’t know.”

“Can you handle things here?”

“More than.” His
sotiei
called her blade. He prayed she would not be forced to use it, not without him there to protect her.

“I’m going with you. If the protections have failed, or a witch
has
let them in, then Selena needs to know.” Ash’s hand moved so quickly not even Dragos could follow it. The silver sword he carried into battle appeared, an exact replica of Mina’s. “I need to make sure she’s safe.”

Talking to Selena was a good idea. As the coven leader, Selena was in charge of keeping the protections up. Yet they’d failed the town more than once. But Selena wasn’t the type to allow the protections to fail.

They needed to know what was happening, and why. Selena would have the answers.

From his expression Greer was torn. “Mina, I...”

“Stay. Ash and Dragos will check on Mollie.”

Dragos nodded to Greer. He knew what it was like to have the burning drive to make sure your mate was safe. “I give my word.”

Greer relaxed. “Then I’ll stay, and protect Mina. You two had better get going. If they’ve gotten into the town we have no way of knowing how much damage they might be inflicting. I’ll contact Lore and have him put out a patrol. If anyone can find Van Helsings in town, it’s him.” The ring of command in Greer’s voice was startling, but neither Mina nor Ash seemed surprised.

“They’re not quite in town. They’re on the edge of the forest, close to the town. If Lore hurries, he might stop them from entering.” Mina shook her head. “They’re getting more and more clever. How they hid themselves from me I’ll never know.”

“If they have a psychic who can sense us, they might have one who can hide from us.”

Greer had a point. The boy, Blake, had settled into Dragos’s home warily, but he hadn’t run. Eddy had been talking to him, introducing him to others like him. They were slowly but surely convincing Blake that his powers were common in Maggie’s Grove, and that he’d be welcome to stay if he chose to do so.

Unless Dragos missed his guess, the boy
would
be staying. Whether or not he became a Renfield or chose some other path remained to be seen.

Dragos took to the sky. Ash had proven he was more than capable of keeping up. Besides, Ash would be drawn to Selena, and that was Dragos’s first stop anyway.

Sure enough, as he settled on the lawn of Selena’s tiny stone bungalow, the dryad was already there, striding toward the front door like some fae prince, his sword gripped loosely in his hand. He knocked on the door twice and stepped back—a tactic Dragos recognized. Ash was giving himself room to maneuver if the enemy had made it to Selena’s home.

Selena opened the door. Her dark hair was tousled, and she was wearing black-and-white plaid pajama bottoms with a T-shirt that read
Sarcasm:
It Beats Choking People to Death.
Her feet were bare, the toenails painted a surprisingly dainty pink. He would have expected red or black, considering who it was. “You’re interrupting my
Doctor Who
marathon.”

Ash apparently didn’t care, either about the toenails or Doctor Who. “Van Helsings have gotten into the forest. Twice.”

She sighed wearily and opened the door wider. “C’mon in. Mr. Tennant will have to wait. Damn it.” She stepped back as they entered her home, and Dragos was once again reminded of why he felt like a bull in a china shop whenever he visited her.

The woman had a white sofa.
White
, with some kind of barely there red flower pattern, and smothered in red and white pillows. He avoided sitting on it whenever he visited, because no matter how careful he was, he was terrified of getting it dirty. The white armchair was off-limits too. He was far more comfortable on the large red-and-white checked ottoman, which was where he sat now.

At least her wooden furniture was scuffed looking and sturdy, well-loved pieces he could see using every day. The high wood and beam ceilings and the stone fireplace counteracted the feminine sofa, and the wooden floor wasn’t a gleaming showcase. People actually walked on it, marring the surface and adding to its charm. She’d painted the walls a warm taupe—with vibrant prints scattered throughout the room—and the lamps she’d placed around were simple, with red bases and white shades. Potted plants sat by the windows, a common feature in most of the homes of the witches he’d visited over the years. Her altar, a square table behind the white armchair, held two silver figurines—one male, the other female—with candles behind each. Having been in her home before, he knew the other tools were stashed away, ready to come out when Selena felt the need to celebrate her connection with the gods.

It wasn’t how he would choose to decorate, but the juxtaposition of soft and feminine with hard and masculine seemed to suit her personality.

Ash, of course, plopped himself right down on that pristine, feminine sofa—either unwilling to concede that no male should ever darken its cushions with his uncouth ass or uncaring that, as a dryad, he just
might
have some dirt on his butt. “How have the Van Helsings breached our defenses?”

Selena shrugged. “You’re asking me? I’m not one of the witches who maintain the perimeter.”

Dragos leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. “But you
are
their leader.”

She sighed. “No. I’m not.”

“Since when?” That was news to him.

She stared at Dragos and laughed. “Since forever. That’s not the job of the witch doctor.” She stopped laughing, concern darkening her features. “Who told you I was?”

“Kate.” Through their bond he could sense Mina sucking in a breath. “Not even she would be that bold.”

“To get what she wants, she might, and she wants you badly.” Ash scowled when Selena chose to curl up in the white armchair rather than join him on the sofa. “Who
is
in charge of the witches?”

“Mel. A gray, one who dances around the white.”

“Melissa Weimer?” Dragos cursed under his breath. “She wouldn’t allow something like this.” He didn’t know Mel all that well. He’d thought she was just another Grove witch. She never spoke up at the town meetings and never put herself forward in any way. Still, if she were the coven leader she wouldn’t allow the people of Maggie’s Grove to be taken by Van Helsings—if only to save her own skin. As a gray witch, that was of paramount importance to her.

“With all that’s going on with Kate you’re reluctant to turn to a witch you don’t know well for help with the Van Helsings. I understand. Mina called me and let me know it was Kate who’s been torturing her.” Selena grimaced. “I
really
don’t like that bitch.”

“I know what you mean.” He’d love to slowly roast Kate over an open flame for what she’d done to Mina. “That’s not it, though. We’re not certain what magical protections they have in place, so we thought it would be better to go in using mundane means first, rather than risk a witch losing her life. Or worse.”

Ash scowled. “What could be worse than losing your life?”

“Losing your magic.”

The barely there whisper caught Ash’s attention. Selena looked so mournful the dryad moved to hover over her, his hand gripping her shoulder. “That’s bad?”

“If a witch loses her magic she loses her place on the wheel of rebirth.” Selena smiled grimly. “Terri will never be reborn.”

Ash paled. The circle of life was sacred to dryads. To break it was the ultimate violation. “Do the Van Helsings know that?”

“Blake told us they think witches don’t have souls, remember?” Dragos sighed. This was so terribly screwed up.

“But...if they rip a witch’s magic away, that renders the witch vulnerable. The Van Helsings may not know about, or care about, the consequences, only that they’ve destroyed another abomination.” The horror in Selena’s expression would haunt Dragos.

“They’re working on finding our weaknesses, and the fact that the magic can be ripped from a witch is a major one.”

“We’re getting away from the main point.” Dragos understood why Ash needed to know these things. If Mina were a witch, he’d want to know too. “Namely, how are the Van Helsings getting into Maggie’s Grove?”

“I hate to say it, Dragos, but all the signs point to Kate.”

Ash was right. “What is it with witches and obsession?”

Selena curled herself up even tighter, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Sometimes the magic becomes too much for us to handle. We don’t always realize it, but it can be...addictive. It’s the lure that takes a white witch over to the gray or a gray over to black. The ability to use it to get any outcome you want can be very seductive.” Selena leaned her chin on her knees, quite a feat considering the rather ample endowments in the way. Didn’t squishing them like that hurt?

The mental slap upside the head had his ears ringing. “
Her eyes are in her face
,
Dragos.
”

“
Sorry
,
my
sotiei
.
” But secretly, he was delighted at the show of jealousy from Mina. Not that he would tell her so.

“Karma won’t allow you to use your powers like that with impunity. There’s always a price to pay.”

“Is it always the witch who pays it?” Ash’s thoughtful tone had Dragos wondering what was going through the dryad’s mind. Was he wondering if Selena would wind up paying a price he couldn’t bear to witness?

It was an interesting question, but Selena’s answer was unequivocal. “Yes.”

“So black witches do eventually pay when they harm others.”

“It’s a price they’re often
willing
to pay. That’s the difference between a gray and a black. A gray witch will often step back if there’s going to be backlash on a spell, even if it means someone else suffers. They can actually be
more
selfish than a black witch because the only one who matters to them is, well,
them
.”

Ash whistled softly. “I thought the black always meant evil.”

“No, not at all. A black witch weighs the cost to themselves versus the gain, and if it doesn’t even out in their mind they don’t do it.” Leaning forward, Selena tapped her nail on her coffee table. “Sometimes a black witch is more willing to take on personal consequences if it means protecting those they love, or to gain something they truly want. Motivation is a huge factor, and they’ll take far more risks than a white witch would ever consider. A black witch is far more likely to attack an enemy than defend a friend, but the Karma of such an act will cost them something in return. If the need is great enough, they’ll pay it gladly.”

“So if we were to ask witches to help us against the Van Helsings, the majority we would get would be black or gray.”

“More black than gray, but yes. The white would remain behind, or take on support-only roles. And even when the black does turn to pure evil, like Terri did, they don’t always pay in this lifetime. Sometimes Karma makes them pay in their next life. Say a witch uses her powers to give someone who has been harassing her a rash. Now—depending on the circumstances mind you—that could either be okay with the Karma police, or not.”

“When would it be okay?”

“If the person harassing the witch intended to do harm to her, it could be viewed as a way for the witch to defend herself, or get away. If, however, she’s a coworker who simply dislikes the witch, and the spell was cast for petty reasons, the witch would suffer some sort of backlash.”

“So the Karma police could be
okay
with Kate allowing Van Helsings into Maggie’s Grove?” Dragos couldn’t believe his ears. Nothing he’d done had warranted this, and there was no way in hell he could see it as being an act of self-defense.