Black's Magic Page 5

  With a sigh, Rowena put her hand through the fabric that welded together the universe and punched into another. The sensation was similar to plunging your hand in a bucket of ice water, it burned with cold pain. Rowena retrieved the pen and pulled it through this dimension. The air rippled around the pen and her hand as she extricated it. With a grin, she pushed her athame into the fold in time before the fabric shifted back into normal time. Perfect for safekeeping.

  The pen looked innocuous, but allowed her to send anything she wrote with it directly to Merrick. Rowena found a scrap piece of paper and quickly jotted down what she'd learned. The ink fluttered off the page and spun in the air before it disappeared in puff of smoke. It would reappear on a tablet of paper in Merrick's office.

  "What are you doing?"

  Rowena turned to see Vayne standing in the doorway with a heavy looking garment bag over his shoulder.

  She held up the pen. “Doodling.” She'd been a sorcerer for years and had long ago learned the art of subterfuge.

  Vayne nodded and held out his hand to her. “I find that I am hungry for you again."

  She shivered at his words, a delicious anticipation settled over her. She wanted to feel him inside her once more. Oddly enough, she felt guilty for spying in his home. She knew that once she'd conveyed the information to the Alliance, the Coven would take out their displeasure on Vayne. It bothered her more than she cared to admit.

  But she'd never felt guilty before. Ridiculous. Not about spying on the Coven, but about deceiving Vayne. It felt wrong.

  Vayne appeared to buy her answer. “You look beautiful. I'm never quite prepared for the sight of you."

  Rowena tilted her head, looking for a trace of mockery, but found none. “What do you mean?'

  "I mean that I can't get you out of my mind. Not just recently, either. Every night when I go out, I hope that we'll meet.” Vayne knelt at her feet, caging her body with his own.

  "So we can fight?"

  Vayne smiled. “No, so we can banter. It's our foreplay."

  "Hardly. I scared you and you tried to capture me."

  He tilted his head. “Tell the truth. Did you ever hope we would be lovers?"

  Rowena shook her head. “We're not lovers, Vayne, I'm your slave."

  He caught her hand with his own and then fit them together, palm to palm. “You are no one's slave. You are Rowena Black. If you don't believe me, consider our situation.” He knelt at her feet. “Who is the one on his knees?"

  Rowena took in a shuddering breath. What was he trying to say? “You are."

  "And have I ever asked you to call me master?"

  "No."

  Vayne laced his fingers through hers. “Then you aren't my slave and I'm not your master. We're just Vayne and Rowena."

  She raised her chin. “Sinclair is my master."

  Vayne's jaw clenched. “Sinclair is a dead man if he ever touches you again. I'm not turning you over to him, even if I have to leave the Coven to keep you."

  Rowena caught her breath. “What are you saying, Vayne?"

  He slid his hands up her thigh and parted her legs further. “I'm saying that I need you, Rowena. Somehow, you've become important to me. At this moment, I need to taste you. Please, let me love you."

  Love. It wasn't quite an admission, but it was close. Rowena fell back against her chair with a shudder. She parted her legs for him, let him inside of her.

  Vayne put her legs over his shoulder and bent his mouth her pussy. He lapped at her like a man who'd been starved, seeming to relish the taste of her on his tongue. His mouth was expert, making her move against him as he teased her clitoris and sampled the folds.

  He slipped his tongue deep inside her, bathed it in her heat. Then he lubricated his fingers in her wetness and slowly slipped it inside her arsehole. He slipped it past the tight ring of muscle and pumped it in and out.

  Rowena couldn't think, she only felt. She felt the presence of magic once more. Their lovemaking had a magic all its own. It rolled through her body in waves, and made her cry out his name as she climaxed.

  For the first time since her father's death, Rowena felt complete. Replete. Home.

  * * * *

  Hours later, she awoke to a fierce argument going on in the living room. She wrapped a sheet around her body and went out into the fray. Both Sinclair and Vayne were shouting at each other, their faces red.

  "You won't keep her from me. I own her as well,” Sinclair snarled.

  Vayne's raised his wand, poised to strike. She ran over and wrapped her hands around his arm. “What are you doing?"

  "You are mine!"

  She dropped his arm, shaking her head in disgust. “Listen to both of you. Me. Mine. Both of you treat me as if I'm property, rather than a person.” For a moment, she thought that maybe Vayne had seen her as something more, but she'd been wrong. “I'm going with Sinclair."

  Sinclair smirked at Vayne as she joined him. “I've missed you, my dear."

  Rowena sighed.

  They appeared in his bedroom once more, only this time the room was dominated by a large steel cage, large enough to hold a man, nearly twice her size. Inexplicably, she felt herself grow wet at the sight. For some reason, bondage turned her on, perhaps because she was so tightly in control of her life.

  "Is—is that for me?” she murmured.

  Sinclair smiled. “Yes, as a treat for us both. I've missed you, Rowena."

  While he heated her blood, he didn't make her breath catch the way Vayne did. Vayne captured both her body and her mind. She'd always held a torch for him. But he would be brought down along with the coven. Her feelings for him, whatever they might be, were hopeless.

  She looked up at Sinclair

  "What are you thinking about, pet?” he asked silkily.

  "You,” she lied. He had been kind to her and healed her wounds, despite his need to keep her as a slave. He might have useful information to give her about the Coven as well.

  He appeared to be pleased by her faux admission. “And why is that?"

  She dropped the sheet that she'd hastily wrapped around herself at Vayne's apartment and she saw his face go slack. Rowena wanted to exert control over the situation even though she was technically submissive in Sinclair's mind. She needed to tempt him with her body. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed in tight against his body. “Because every time I did, I grew wet."

  Sinclair pulled back and looked down into her eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw. “And Vayne reaped the rewards?"

  He was jealous! She smiled. “Yes, but the desire was for you."

  "Then let's see how wet you can grow for me here.” He took her by the hand and led her to the wrought iron cage. On the bottom was a piece of carpet to keep her feet warm. She stepped into the cage and he pulled it shut behind her, the steel locking in place. The bars were set far apart enough that her face fit between the bar, but she couldn't squeeze through.

  She could see his cock swelled behind his trousers. “May I suck your cock?"

  His eyes filed with terrible hunger. She dropped to her feet before him and cast him a demure look.

  "Suck me.” He undid his trousers and his thick cock sprang free, already slicked with pre-cum and ready for her. The head dipped, as though anticipating being in her mouth.

  She lapped at his cock, starting at the base and all the way to the head, like a lollipop. It was smooth beneath her tongue. She swirled her tongue over the opening at the top. Something about being held like this, like an exotic slave at the seraglio put her libido into overdrive. She grew more and more wet, wanted to feel him mounting her.

  She took him down her throat, relaxing her jaw and letting him fully in. Sinclair groaned. “That's it, pet. Suck it. Put your hand through the bar and cup my balls.” She did, snaking a hand through the hard steel to cup his velvety balls in her hand as she sucked strongly.

  His hands curled around the bars as he fucked her mouth. All too soon, he erupted in a groan as he filled her thro
at with thick cum. She tried to swallow it all, but some escaped her lips.

  Sinclair panted, nearly swaying on his feet. Finally, he fell to his knees and watched her through the bars. “You're wanting, aren't you?"

  Her pussy dripped moisture. She tried to squeeze her legs together and she nodded, but she was in control of her desire. She would use it to control him. “I need you.” She'd already brought him to his knees.

  "I'm sure you do,” he crooned. “But I want to watch you touch yourself. Lie down for me and touch your pretty little cunt.” She lay down on her side and splayed her thighs for him so he could see her pussy. She gently played with the lips, all the while watching his fascinated face. He looked mesmerized. She stroked her pussy, over the velvety folds, and pinched her clitoris, making her legs quiver in response.

  His cock reared to life as he watched. “My God, you are delicious."

  "Do you want me, Sinclair? Want to push your cock into me? Take me?” She taunted as she stroked.

  Sinclair fumbled with the locking mechanism and threw open the cage, yanking her from the floor and sliding into her. Fucking her fiercely.

  Rowena shouted in triumph as she came.

  * * * *

  When she awoke hours later, she was pillowed on his chest. Sinclair silently stroked his hair. “You are quite a little minx, aren't you?"

  She grinned at him. “Maybe, but I think you enjoyed it.” She traced circles on his chest.

  "What if I did?"

  "I did, too. Will you have to leave me today, to go to another meeting?"

  He sighed. “I'm afraid so, my dear. Would you like me to leave you in the cage while I'm gone?” He arched an eyebrow. “Then I'll fuck you when I get back."

  She shivered. “Is it okay if I stay in bed?"

  He gave her an indulgent smile. “As you like, my dear.” He pulled her up his body and kissed her soundly before flipping her over, so that his cock was nestled against her stomach. “I will still shag you senseless when I return.” He smirked. “I don't think I'll shower before I leave, so I'll go the meeting smelling of you."

  In order to piss Vayne off? Terrific.

  He got up to change while she contemplated where she would attempt to spy. After Sinclair left, she scurried into his home laboratory. Apparently, he hadn't felt it necessary to magically ward his notebooks from her. He'd simply locked them up, which she was easily able to pick.

  What she found made her blood freeze in her veins.

  Sinclair was developing mind control serums. According to the notebook she found in his locked filing cabinet, he had developed Agent 4, a serum that utilized magic and science in order to sublimate the will of another being. Completely. And it could be done remotely.

  He was helping Rochester take over the government.

  She quickly sent the information off to Merrick, along with a tiny little sample of his serum.

  After she'd finished, she walked into Sinclair's bedroom to find Vayne. He had his arms crossed over his chest. “You are spying."

  Her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?"

  "Apparently wasting my time. I was coming to save you from Sinclair while he was away. I was going to take you to my home, only to find you going through his records."

  "Why didn't you stop me?"

  He shook his head. “Because I intend to kill you.” He withdrew his wand and aimed it at her.

  She could feel the panic welling within. “Vayne, wait. I'm just—"

  "I know, but I cannot let you live, after what I know.” He lowered his wand. “Nor can I harm you."

  "Then we're at an impasse."

  "Not quite.” Vayne crossed his arms over his chest. “I have not been ... interested in the Coven as I have in the past. Rochester is a madman. While I like power, I do not enjoy chaos and he does.” He held out his hand. “Perhaps it is time we both get out of this."

  He made them both reappear in his apartment, his room specifically. “What are we doing?"

  "Hush.” He walked to the close and removed a garment bag from the depths. “Put this on. We haven't much time."

  Vayne's room was a wonder. Swathed in blue satin, the king-sized bed dominated the room. Against the wall stood two armoires as well as a thick trunk at the end of the bed. Over all it was a beautiful if dramatic room.

  Rowena laid her garment bag down on the trunk. When she opened it, she found a red satin dress in her size, along with all of the accessories she needed. Vayne had good taste when it came to ball gowns, but she'd rather appear at Rochester's in her familiar black leather, wand blazing.

  Twenty minutes later, she was ready. Rowena had her make-up applied and all of her undergarments on, but couldn't manage to get her gown zipped. Resigned, she slipped her high heels on and walked to the door.

  Vayne stood in the hallway, leaning against the door. His mouth fell open as he saw Rowena. “You look lovely.” He grinned. “Though, I prefer you naked in my bed."

  Rowena laughed. “I need your help, you lech.” Rowena presented him with her back. “I can't get it zipped."

  "Allow me.” Vayne placed his hand at the base of her spine. Rowena trembled a little at his touch. Odd, considering he'd touched everywhere, but after the morning's conversation, even the smallest touch seemed more important.

  He grasped the zipper and drew it up her back. “It's disappointing to see that creamy skin slowly disappear from sight. Can I interest you in a quick little shag before we go?"

  "How about a slow, thorough one once we get home?"

  She sensed that he took great care not to pinch her skin and drew out the process longer. Why did his touch feel so right?

  "You've convinced me, but we will get back in here in record time tonight.” When he finished, Vayne reluctantly removed his hands. “Done."

  "Thank you.” She turned to face him.

  Vayne opened his jacket and withdrew a black satin pouch. “For you.” He handed it to her. Inside, were two elbow-length black gloves.

  "Thank you, Vayne.” She pulled them on her arms. “Rochester really goes all out, huh?"

  "Yes, he enjoys having his fun. We need masks, too.” He pulled two simple black masks from the trunk at the end of the bed. They were on silver handles that could be placed against the face. They only covered the eyes and nose and his was slightly larger than hers.

  "What's the point? Don't Coven members know everyone at the party?"

  "That's part of the charm of a masked ball, Rowena. They get to pretend to be someone else.” He sighed. “Are you ready?"

  "No,” she admitted. She picked up her shawl from the bed.

  "I understand,” Vayne took the piece of tulle from her and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Doing something decadent is always like that.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and took a step closer.

  "The first time?” Rowena was acutely aware of the bed against the back of her knees.

  "It's terrifying and exciting at the same time,” Vayne murmured. She wasn't sure what he was talking about right now but it sure as hell wasn't Rochester's party.

  "I can see that.” Her face was upturned and his minty breath was warm on her cheek.

  "Trust me. I'll be with you every step of the way.” His lips hovered over hers. “Follow me."

  "I'm ready.” Rowena bridged the distance between them by placing her lips against his own.

  It was their first kiss.

  Rowena was in the middle of maelstrom. This wasn't the pleasant goodnight kiss of a restrained gentleman. He tasted of power and shadows. Things that made your heart beat faster and your breath catch. She wanted more, wanted to drown herself in him. Even the dark part of him.

  He'd alluded to leaving the Coven, but she feared that it was idle talk. Conversely, she worried about his defection. They would have to take his powers and worried that when she looked into his eyes, she'd see hatred instead of the beginnings of love.

  When he lifted his mouth from hers, they silently gazed at each other.
Neither one of them could put words to what had happened.

  Vayne took a deep breath and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Beware. You've entered the serpent's den, Rowena.” She noted that the scenery around them had changed. They were in the foyer of Rochester's castle.

  Rowena spun around when they reached their destination to face him.

  "Welcome,” Rochester drawled. He was leaning indolently against the staircase, a glass of champagne in his hand. His mask fluttered to the floor.

  "Showtime,” Vayne murmured. He placed his hand in the small of her back and pressed her forward.

  Chapter 7

  "Hello, poppet."

  Rowena froze as he glided towards them, looking smug. She felt Vayne tense beside her, but she wasn't worried that Rochester would start something. She was pissed. She'd been forced grovel at his feet once before. It wouldn't happen again.

  "Rochester,” she acknowledged.

  "Vayne, it appears you haven't taught your pet her proper place."

  Vayne grinned. “What can I say? She's got a mind of her own."

  Rochester took her hand in his, before she could pull it away. For a wild moment, she thought he would snap her wrist but instead he kissed her hand. Rowena's stomach rolled in protest and her hand trembled from the amount of effort it took to remain still. She had the urge to slap his face.

  "Perhaps I shall have to find a more suitable master for her. One will keep her in line."

  Rowena leaned in close to him. “I'm going to kill you soon,” she whispered.

  Rochester chuckled, but his eyes widened. “Idle threats are meaningless, poppet, especially when you have no powers."

  "It wasn't a threat, Rochester, it's a promise."

  "Now, isn't the time to give you the proper thrashing you so richly deserve,” he said, holding her hand in a bruising grip. “I'll see to you after the party."

  "Count on it,” Rowena said through clenched teeth.