Seduced by Magic Page 4

  Of course their father loved them no matter what. Even though he was gruff on the exterior, and had a hard time showing his emotions, Copper knew just how much he cared. Moondust had always shown her love easily. Copper’s mother was gentle and kind—the type of person who could make you feel good with only a look, and the only person to calm their father when he was on a rant.

  Copper rolled her eyes to the increasingly darkening sky, then shook her head. “There’s got to be a spell that can get me and every other living being out of here.”

  She’d tried everything she could think of. Even the Faeries had attempted to help her with their magic. The Pixies, Brownies, an Undine, and Drow—they were no help at all. The Pixies preferred to tease and taunt, often stealing leaves from her vine dress when she wasn’t looking. The Brownies bit her ankles when she wasn’t careful where she stepped. The Undine preferred to keep to herself.

  The Drow—bluish-skinned Dark Elves—kept trying to lure her belowground but she had no inclination to do so. The Drow king, Garran, had visited her one night—the Drow could only come out when it was dark. He’d made it clear he wanted her.

  Even if he was tall and sexy—no, thanks. She wasn’t about to take the chance that Drow magic would trick her into staying belowground and cause her to want to live with the Dark Elves.

  He’d smiled and winked. “One day you will come to me.”

  Copper turned her thoughts away from the cocky bastard and back to her current predicament. A small spring tinkled down a rock wall several paces from the apple tree. Even though she’d been trapped, she’d been blessed with just about every convenience—if you could call them conveniences—that she needed. Often Copper wondered why that was so. It was as if the goddess or the Ancestors had planned this, and that there was some meaning to it.

  What could that possibly be? She needed to be home, needed to be near her family and friends.

  The copper pentagrams at her ears swung freely as she made another jog around the meadow. When she finished her workout, her skin was warm and a light coating of sweat covered her body. She was going to have to come up with some new exercises to get a better workout.

  She knelt at the spring and washed her hands in the lower basin. When she finished, she scooped sweet water from the upper basin into her mouth with her hands. As always it was icy cold and the best water she’d ever tasted. But she’d give anything to be back in San Francisco and drinking city water, even with all its minerals and chemicals.

  She sighed and picked at one of the vines on her dress. She wanted, needed to break through the shield and get the hell out of here. At this point she’d prefer being anywhere in Otherworld to being confined to this tiny space. Of course free, that was, not trapped. At least then she might be able to convince some being to help her get home. She’d always read that the Elves had doorways that led to Otherworlds.

  Too bad the Dark Elves didn’t have any such doors available belowground. Garran had said all their doors had been blocked, so they had no means of escape, either. They continued to dig downward, supposedly to find some way to get out.

  Copper got to her feet and walked to what wasn’t much of a shelter in the rock, but where she curled up to sleep at night on a thick blanket of dried grass, vines, and leaves. It was much longer than her, lengthwise, and its width was more than enough to keep her out of the weather. She could also sit up with room to spare. The leaf and vine dress kept her warm and comfortable, and she was sure that it helped make the bed softer, too.

  She retrieved her wand that had thankfully crossed over with her, and gripped it tight. The wand warmed in her hand as she stepped through the short grass that tickled the soles of her bare feet. Rabbits and strange creatures that looked like a cross between a ferret and a toad kept the grass shorn so that it always looked freshly mowed. The ferret-toads made a gruuupp, gruuuupp sound when they were mating. It was particularly annoying.

  No fair that everyone and everything else was getting laid and she wasn’t.

  Carrying her wand, Copper went to the center of the meadow, on the other side of the apple tree. Zeph zipped over to her, perched on the curve of her ear, and she felt the strength of his support.

  “Have faith, little guy.” She raised her wand and the pentagram sparkled on her bracelet. “The goddess must have a plan for us, and it can’t be to stay in this place forever.”

  Zeph buzzed and Copper called out a simple circle-casting spell. After it was cast, she tried a new spell, hoping this would be the one.

  In this place on this sacred ground,

  Within this circle good shall be bound.

  With the light of my wand this place surround,

  May what is lost now be found.

  The crystal at the end of her wand glowed through the evening, a brilliant gold that glittered off the walls of their prison. The light seemed stronger than before and she felt tremors through her hand. She focused on the wand, and poured her gray magic into it. Silver wouldn’t have agreed to use it so freely.

  No, it’s too dangerous, Silver would say. You should only use it in dire circumstances.

  Whatever.

  Copper gathered her focus and her gray witchcraft and concentrated on the spell she’d just spoken aloud.

  Nothing.

  She chanted it again, louder this time, pouring more gray magic into the spell.

  The light from her wand dimmed and began to retreat, as if withdrawing back into the crystal.

  Copper held her breath for at least ten seconds and then she heard what sounded like a collective sigh around the meadow.

  Disappointment rushed over her, but then a feeling of hope, too. That was the most her wand had ever glowed during one of her chants since coming here. Maybe she was getting closer. Getting stronger?

  Since she’d been trapped here, she’d tried tapping into every bit of witchcraft she had, including her deepest gray magic.

  After yet another failure, she placed her wand in the shelter. Copper stripped out of her dress and stood by the small pool of water created by the stream. There was an upper basin that she used to drink from, and a lower basin that she used to cleanse herself.

  With shampoo, soap, and a soft grass sponge the Faeries had given her, Copper first undid her braid and washed her hair, then soaped her body. When she rinsed in the icy cold water, she shivered and wished for a nice thick towel. Once a week she used a cream that the Faeries had supplied that allowed her to remove hair from her underarms and her legs. She’d never been much for hairy legs, or armpits for that matter.

  After she ate a filling seedcake the Faeries had left her for dinner, Copper brushed her teeth with Faerie toothpaste that tasted like berries and a twig and grass toothbrush. Refreshed, she slid into her shelter and relaxed on the now overly familiar cushion of the dried vines, leaves, and grass.

  Instead of falling asleep right away, she stared up at the rock ceiling of her shelter and listened to the chirrup of crickets and other night sounds. She couldn’t really see the ceiling because it was now dark outside. An ache rose deep inside her. She missed her family, and both human and witch companionship.

  And she really, really needed to get laid.

  Right now any man would do. Well, not any man and not just any being. She could have had one of the sexy Drow, especially the king, but she didn’t want to go there. As a witch, she might be immune to Drow magic, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

  But she could certainly pick a dream man.

  She’d always had a thing for blonds. She could imagine a man with her, his naked body between her thighs, his chest pressed to hers.

  At the thought, she pushed up her vine and leaf dress just enough to bare her pussy. She cupped her mound, then slipped her fingers into her wet folds.

  Copper gave a soft sigh as she closed her eyes and the man’s image came clearly to her. She’d be naked, too, and the man would suckle her nipples, biting them as hard as she liked it. He’d caress her, touch her in al
l of her intimate places, tease her into a frenzy. Then he’d place the head of his cock at her entrance and plunge deep inside of her.

  As she imagined her mystery man fucking her, she widened her thighs, plunged two fingers into her channel and gave a little moan. She pinched one of her nipples through the dress while she slipped her fingers out and began to circle her clit.

  Yeah, that was it. He’d take her so hard she’d cry out with every thrust.

  Her fingers circled her clit faster and faster as she continued to imagine the man. Oh, yes. He’d drive in so deep she’d feel him all the way to her belly.

  Sensations built up within Copper and her thighs began to tremble. She was so close. So close. And he was fucking her and calling out her name. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster.

  Copper’s orgasm swarmed throughout her body like tiny fireflies that sparked in the night. She moaned soft and low while her core continued to contract, adding to the intense sensations.

  After her orgasm finally melted away, Copper smiled, tugged down her dress, and rolled onto her side. She rested her head on one arm, using it for a pillow, then drifted away into a satisfied sleep.

  Four

  San Francisco

  The Balorite high priest Darkwolf studied Sara, the warlock seer, who stood before him. Sara was brown-haired, slight of build, lovely, and she had a sweet jasmine scent. She wore snug jeans and a tight-fitting, low-cut shirt that molded her small but perfect breasts and gave him a fine view of her cleavage. Her brown eyes held a hint of something that made him wonder if she had her own agenda.

  Beside Darkwolf, Elizabeth Black perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, her elegant legs crossed, her arms folded across her chest, and a scowl directed at Sara. Darkwolf never forgot that inside Elizabeth’s beautiful shell resided a demon queen—Junga. And he never let her forget the sexual power he held over her. Just the thought of bringing this demon to her knees was heady. She was extraordinarily powerful, but it gave him incredible satisfaction that he knew her weakness—being sexually dominated.

  Darkwolf, Sara, and the demon-woman were in the private library of a wealthy and influential man who had once owned the mansion they now used for their lair. After they had fled the abandoned building they had been using temporarily, Darkwolf had picked this location as the perfect place for the warlocks and Fomorii to use as their headquarters.

  One of Junga’s demon underlings now controlled the wealthy former owner’s body, his shell. Junga ruled the Fomorii with such an iron will that none of the demons dared to defy her. She was queen, and Darkwolf had no doubt that not one of the remaining demons would even think of challenging her. They quavered when she was nearby and immediately took to whatever task she ordered them to perform.

  The library smelled of leather, cherry pipe tobacco, and lemon oil. At his insistence, before they entered the home, the Fomorii had remained in their human forms, so he didn’t have to smell the demons’ rotten fish stench. They’d been lucky the seer Sara had foretold the coming of the D’Danann and she had suggested this manor as their refuge. He couldn’t have asked for better accommodations than what they now commanded.

  Elizabeth-Junga flicked a speck of lint off her clothing. She was of course wearing a fitted suit in her favorite color, blood red. And beneath that skirt—at his orders—he knew she wore only garters holding up her sheer stockings. Just the thought of her bare pussy made his cock ache.

  Elizabeth’s gaze immediately returned to the warlock seer. Darkwolf saw the jealousy in her eyes, and it almost made him smile. He wanted Sara, and Elizabeth knew it.

  Darkwolf focused on the seer. He leaned his hip against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. His blue T-shirt stretched taut with his movement. He wore black boots and faded blue jeans and his dark hair curled slightly at his nape.

  The warlock seer’s gaze moved to the stone eye resting on his chest and he saw the hint of a smile curve the corner of her mouth. This one was special—she always seemed intrigued by the eye, rather than fearful.

  Sara was new to his Clan, a former D’Anu apprentice he had seduced into his fold. Darkwolf had every intention of initiating her further by fucking her, making her scream with her orgasm, and begging him to fuck her again. He took what he wanted, when he wanted, and made sure the women enjoyed every minute of it.

  Darkwolf knew Sara wanted him, but he had drawn out the wait, intending to make her desire him so badly that when he finally took her it would be a fuck beyond her wildest dreams.

  The seer had been somewhat of a surprise. When he had first persuaded Sara to join his Clan, he had thought her to be somewhat meek. But she had proved to be a much stronger woman than he had anticipated, and she showed no fear of him or the demon queen. He found that intriguing . . . and arousing.

  The stone eye at Darkwolf’s throat warmed and he sensed Balor’s presence in his mind. A sharp pain shot through his head as it often did from Balor’s intrusion and Darkwolf gritted his teeth. He never showed any outward emotion at the pain. He must always give the appearance of control, confidence, and dominance.

  Ever since he had found the stone eye on the shores of Ireland, the ancient sea god’s essence had possessed Darkwolf, driving him to do the god’s bidding.

  At times Darkwolf had flashes of his old life, when he was simply Kevin Richards, a white witch. And sometimes he wondered if there was a way to turn back time. A way to take off the eye and set himself free.

  But no. That white witch was no more. Blood stained Darkwolf’s hands and black magic stained his soul. Balor’s possession of him had changed his life forever.

  “Tell me what you saw,” Darkwolf finally said, drawing himself back to the moment.

  The stone eye against his chest began to glow deep red with Balor’s power and Sara smiled, almost as if she knew something about the god that Darkwolf didn’t.

  “I saw the witches and the D’Danann.” Sara’s eyes appeared unfocused for a moment, as if she were recalling the images. “They found a piece of parchment at the place we just left.” She paused and glanced at Elizabeth whose scowl deepened. The seer gave a smile that could almost have been described as catty. She returned her gaze to Darkwolf. “The parchment had a rectangle and a circle within a circle on it. Silver Ashcroft used her cauldron to scry, and I believe she learned a great deal of what you have planned.” She cocked her head. “I also think she may have found clues to where we are—but nothing that would give us completely away. Not yet.”

  The sharp pain in Darkwolf’s head intensified, but he ignored it. “Thank you, Sara.” He gave her his most sensual smile. “You will be rewarded well for your service to Balor.”

  Sara gave him a slight bow before her eyes met his again. Her tongue darted out to touch her lower lip. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Every time she said my lord, his cock hardened. He reached out and took her small hands in his, keeping his gaze focused on hers. “I thank you,” he said, before drawing her fingers to his lips and kissing the knuckles of each hand. Sara’s eyes seemed to turn a deeper brown and her expression was more than seductive.

  Sara cast a sly glance at Elizabeth who gave what sounded like a low growl. Darkwolf smiled at the woman’s—demon’s—jealousy.

  “Return to your duties,” he told Sara, “and I trust that you will come to me the minute you have another vision.”

  Sara’s eyes held his for a moment. She gave a small bow of her head. “It is my pleasure to serve you in any way . . . my lord.” With a final look into his eyes, she turned and walked out of the library. Darkwolf couldn’t resist watching the sway of her ass, the way the jeans molded her perfectly. He could imagine driving into her tight hole or her pussy and the thought made his cock swell even harder.

  When Sara was gone, the library door closed with a thump as Darkwolf gave a flick of his fingers, using simple magic. For a moment he stared at the double doors. The stone eye against his chest cooled and the sharp pain in his head receded.

 
; “Must you fuck everything that walks?” came Elizabeth’s voice—Junga—from beside him.

  He slowly turned to look at her, giving her a cool stare. “I fuck you, don’t I?”

  Junga literally growled. Her fingers elongated into claws, her teeth grew longer and sharper, her voice deeper. “Watch what you say, warlock.”

  Junga was far from intimidated by him. Except when it came to sex. Then she took all that he dealt out to her. She couldn’t get enough of his sexual domination. She loved to be spanked, flogged, and reveled in other forms of sexual pain.

  Except for sex, she was the proud warrior queen. She consistently went against his will. Despite his orders that for now they remain as low profile as possible, she insisted that her demons feed on human flesh and had them take over the shells of more influential, powerful people.

  Darkwolf gave Junga a dismissive wave. He knew her weaknesses, the power he held over her. He had no fear of the demon that resided within the beautiful woman’s shell. At times he thought about the fact that the woman he fucked was a hideous-looking demon when in her natural form, but he chose to ignore it and preferred to dwell on his ability to control her.

  He kept his amusement from his expression as he rounded the desk and once again bent over the map of Otherworld and its barrier to Underworld. “The door . . . surely the Dark Elves will reach it soon.”

  His gaze met Elizabeth-Junga’s. She had retracted her claws, her teeth were returned to normal proportions, and she was once again the bitchy but beautiful woman. “Do you—” Junga paused and the expression on her features shifted. Concern? Fear? “Do you think it wise to release creatures other than the Fomorii, and such a powerful being as Balor?”