Chaotic Magic: A Snarky Paranormal Romance (Modern Magic Book 6) Read online

  He caught her arm before she’d taken two steps. “Wait, love.”

  She stiffened. “My name is Samantha. Not Sam, not Sammy, especially not ‘love’.” Every time he called her that, a little flutter betrayed her determination to stay emotionally distant. “You can get away with charming the entire female population of Manhattan with your sexy accent and your cute names, but don’t make the mistake of confusing them with me.”

  His fingers tightened on her arm for a second, then let go. “I know who I’m spending time with, Samantha. I’d like to—”

  She missed the rest of his sentence. A blinding pain stabbed her behind her forehead, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut. Samantha swayed on her feet and instinctively reached out to steady herself on Luc. Her palm flattened against his chest at the same time he wound an arm around her waist.

  “Samantha, what’s wrong?”

  He stood close—she could feel the heat from his body—but his voice came from far away. Samantha cursed the horrible timing. The vision had been niggling at her mind for some time, but she’d held off too long. The first wave of pain began to recede, and she cautiously opened her eyes.

  Luc had pulled her close and cupped her cheek. Samantha stared up into his concerned face, trying to control her erratic pulse. Partly from the impending vision, and partly from the feel of Luc’s body against hers again. She didn’t have long before the next wave, and she needed to get to the safety of her row house.

  Samantha stepped away, and Luc’s arms fell to his sides. “I’m fine. Low blood sugar or something. I need to get home and have some orange juice.”

  Her voice sounded weak, even to her own ears, and Luc crossed his arms. “I’ll escort you the rest of the way to the orange juice then.”

  She finally gave in and rolled her eyes, a habit she’d been trying to break for years. “Whatever you want.”

  To her surprise, he didn’t make some half-assed come-on. She started walking again, faster than before, and he kept pace silently. Ideally, she’d find a way to ditch him in the next two blocks, but Luc was probably the most stubborn man she’d ever met. The best place to convince him to go would be at her house.

  The throbbing ache spread from her forehead around to her neck, but Samantha could see her stoop. She’d at least get inside before the vision took over. Clenching her jaw, she made it the last few blocks by imagining Luc’s smirk if she passed out on the sidewalk.

  The short wrought-iron gate creaked as they entered the tiny courtyard, and Samantha breathed a sigh of relief. Almost there. Four steps and she’d reached the door to her haven.

  The knob didn’t turn. Pain darkened her vision, and Samantha rested her forehead against the warm wood. She wouldn’t cry. She would not cry. The key was somewhere in her bag, all she had to do was get a hand on it and she’d be inside. All at once, her hold on the vision began to crumble, and an intense wave of agony buckled her knees.

  Samantha expected to collapse on the concrete stoop next to the wilted plant Dru had left behind, but strong arms scooped her up instead. Her head lolled against Luc’s chest, and distantly, she wondered if her make-up would stain the clean, white cotton.

  Darkness fell, and the vision exploded across her mind.

  Like always, she watched as if through a veil. Unlike always, she played a role in this drama. Sometimes her visions only provided a glimpse, sometimes they unfolded like a series of images. Rarely, they came to her as a scene, moving in real time.

  The curved dagger she’d been seeing for months rested in her hand, heavy and comfortable at the same time. A sense of urgency came from the weapon, as well as the urge to do more, to shed blood and defend. Samantha tried to determine where she was, but she couldn’t move. All she could do was watch from inside her body.

  She blinked at the dagger, then looked up. Samantha took note of what she could during the brief glance. She knelt on the dirt floor of a large, dark room with a wide table on one end. No windows. Sprites cast a golden glow as they floated aimlessly in the air. The tiny puffs of magic made her think she might be in a nexus, but the power in the air felt different from the spots in Terra where magic converged.

  Her gaze landed on Luc, standing a few steps in front of her. He’d positioned himself between her and a small, unfamiliar, blonde woman. She had a scowl on her face, and though her mouth moved, Samantha didn’t hear anything. Apparently, this vision came with no audio.

  Luc’s shoulders stiffened, and he started to turn toward her in slow motion. Behind him, the woman shifted into some kind of hybrid monster. Different parts of her body sported fur or feathers or scales, some had more than one, but her face stayed the same. She grimaced and shook her head, then locked her eyes on Luc. Her hands became claws, and she smiled.

  Samantha’s heart shot into her throat. Luc’s gaze met hers, full of burning intensity, and he reached for her. She frantically tried to move or call out, but the restrictions of the vision were absolute. Her body lifted a hand to him as the woman began to lunge.

  Before the shifter could fully leave the ground, the vision changed, and Samantha found herself with her back pressed into the dirt. Luc lay with his full weight on top of her, and she gripped his side with one hand. Warm, sticky blood oozed between her fingers.

  Her other hand pushed against his chest, but he didn’t move. No inhale, no exhale, no smart-ass comments. No heartbeat. Panic threatened to choke her, and her breath came in short gasps. Not another death. Not him. Internally, she screamed and railed against her paralysis, trying to do something—anything—to stop the vision, but it was useless.

  Luc was dead.

  2

  LUC

  Luc’s heart nearly stopped when Samantha crumpled outside her door. If he hadn’t been standing right behind her, she would have fallen on the concrete and potentially down the stairs. He hoped she appreciated his quick reflexes once whatever ailed her had passed. Low blood sugar, indeed.

  He’d wanted Samantha back in his arms, but not like this. In his mind, she’d be an active participant, and he’d be allowed to explore all her glorious curves. As it was, his fingers were inches from her breast, but exploration would have to wait.

  A simple spell took care of the locked door, but Luc felt the brush of magic as he carried Samantha over the threshold. He kicked the door closed behind them and debated between the living room sofa or her bed. She’d prefer the sofa to keep him away from her sanctuary, but Luc decided against it.

  She stirred halfway up the stairs, rubbing her face against his chest and snuggling closer. He’d been up these stairs once before, but the situation had differed drastically. Then, she’d been burning with desire for him. This time, her body felt chilled. A slight sheen of magic surrounded her, and even if he hadn’t seen it, the waves of power coming off of her would have told him something had triggered her magic.

  He hadn’t paid much attention to her room last time as he’d only needed the bed. A big window allowed in abundant daylight past layers of sheer curtains. Luc had expected soft tones and boring neutrals, but she’d interspersed bright blues and corals with grey and white. The combination reminded him of her—bold and classy at the same time—and made him smile. He laid Samantha carefully on the neatly made bed, then went in search of the thicker shades he knew she had hidden among the fabric at the window.

  With the room darkened, concern for her drove him back to her side. She hadn’t moved since he set her down, so Luc shucked his dress shoes and knelt on the bed next to her. He had fond memories of this bed. Unfortunately, Samantha was far less responsive this time around.

  Luc put aside the memories and focused on his magical skills. He frowned as he ran his hands over her, inches from her skin. Normally, his magic would flag any problems in her body, but everything felt normal until he reached her head. Pain pushed at the edges of her mind, so he tried to ease the pressure. To his surprise, she rebuffed him. He tried again, with the same results.

  Her pulse and breathin
g remained steady, but her magic formed a shield around her. He could push through, but he worried he’d do more harm than good. She didn’t seem to be in distress, simply unconscious and cold. Well, he could address the last issue.

  He removed her stilettos, fighting the sense of déjà vu, and tucked her under the blankets. Her tense face relaxed for a second, then she turned toward him and reached out a hand until she made contact with his thigh. Not unconscious then, deeply asleep.

  Luc lifted her hand off his thigh before the placement became indecent. Not that he’d mind normally, but he had a firm policy against being manhandled by sleeping women. He held her hand and rubbed his thumb across the soft skin of her wrist. She shivered and burrowed deeper under the covers. The temptation to crawl in there with her and warm her himself built until he had to back off the bed and claim a chair in the room instead.

  He often forgot how fragile humans could be, and Samantha was human, despite her strong magic. Strong enough to teleport him out of her house once. He smiled at the memory of finding himself on the sidewalk out front. She’d used her magic that day to help Dru and hadn’t suffered any ill-effects for it.

  That meant Samantha’s collapse wasn’t only associated with her magic. Without being able to ask her questions or risk pushing through her shield, he couldn’t help her. Maybe her former roommates could answer the questions for her though.

  Dru hadn’t known about Samantha’s magic, and he had no way to contact her anyway, but Keely might have some insight. Luc pulled out his phone and belatedly realized he didn’t have Keely’s number. He’d been pulled ever closer to this group in the last few months, so the oversight made him shake his head. Seth would do. He never ventured far from Keely’s side.

  The phone rang a few times before Seth answered with a terse greeting.

  Luc skipped the niceties. “What do you know about Samantha’s magic?”

  “Probably about the same as you. Why? You’re not trying to recruit her, are you? I have to say, that’s one hell of a challenge.”

  “My call is personal rather than professional.” Luc heard a thud and a distinctly female curse in the background. “Perhaps I could speak to Keely instead.”

  Seth sighed. “Now’s not a good time. She’s fighting with a new bathroom mirror.”

  “Couldn’t you have paid someone to replace a mirror?”

  “Yes, but Keely wants to do it herself. Hold on.”

  Luc glanced at Samantha, but she hadn’t moved since he’d sat down. Seth returned with less background noise. “She says to come by tonight after she’s called Samantha.”

  “I’m not sure that will be possible. Can you give me any information now?”

  Seth sighed. “I know you’ve been adopted into our little family, but Keely would kill me if anything hurt Samantha. I’m going to need more than ‘this is personal’ from you.”

  Luc’s jaw tensed. It went against his nature to reveal inner truths to anyone lest they use the information against him. In his realm, only survival of the strongest mattered, and knowledge was power. But he wasn’t in his realm, hadn’t been for a long time, and Samantha could be in trouble. Still, she might not want him broadcasting her secrets either.

  Luc settled on a vague middle-ground. “I have no intention of hurting Samantha. I’m curious to know more about her.”

  “Why not ask her about her power then?”

  “Because she would, and I quote, ‘rather light her hair on fire’ than interact with me.”

  Seth chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds right, but I can’t help you. I can have Keely—”

  Samantha groaned, and Luc interrupted Seth. “Thank you, but I seem to have solved the problem.”

  He hung up the phone and left it on the chair behind him as he returned to her side. “Samantha?”

  Her eyelids fluttered then cracked open. After a couple of blinks, she focused on his face. “Luc?” She sounded confused, and her brows drew together as she reached out to touch his face.

  He intercepted her hand with his and kissed her fingers. A surprising amount of relief filled him that her magic had shrunk back to its normal levels. The shield had disappeared, and his magic had no trouble determining that she wasn’t injured, only exhausted.

  “I’m here.”

  She yawned and glanced past him at the room. “In my bedroom?”

  “It’s not every day a woman swoons into my arms. I thought it prudent to make you comfortable.”

  Her gaze sharpened, and she scoffed, but her fingers twined with his. “I highly doubt that, but thank you for taking care of me.”

  “My pleasure. Is there anything else I can do?”

  Samantha yawned again and blinked slowly as her momentary alertness faded. “I need to rest, but I’m vulnerable when this happens. Nothing will wake me up until my body decides it’s time.”

  Luc smiled. He wouldn’t be leaving anyway. “Sleep. I’ll watch over you until you wake.”

  She hesitated, then relaxed and let her eyes close. “I suppose you could stay. For a while. But don’t touch my stuff.”

  With that warning, she drifted off again. Her hand clung to his, so Luc sat on the floor next to her and rested their linked hands on his knee.

  The magic shield didn’t return, and his frequent checks reassured him Samantha hadn’t lapsed into a coma. The dim room darkened further as afternoon passed into evening. Every time Luc shifted his position, Samantha’s hand tightened on his as if afraid he’d leave. This vulnerable side of her slid past his defenses to the heart of him.

  He’d never met a woman with thicker armor, but he knew the heat that lurked beneath her icy veneer. She’d let him in once and nearly scalded him, but then she’d pushed him away harder than before. What secrets did she keep that made her fight so hard?

  She intrigued him and challenged him. He’d never shied away from a challenge before, but his fascination brought to mind the oracle’s words so long ago. The greatest challenge offers the greatest reward. The woman had offered obscure advice, then warned him of his death.

  He shook his head. The oracle had earned her place in their dungeon, and her paltry offering of salvation hadn’t been worth the exile he’d endured for freeing her. As much as he’d like to dismiss her prediction outright, oracles did indeed see the future. Whether they interpreted what they saw correctly, was a different matter entirely.

  Luc didn’t believe in an immutable fate. Free will played too great a role in magic to be discounted. He was destined to choose between his death and the death of a woman he loved? Unlikely as he’d spent almost a hundred years in Terra without the slightest inkling of romantic feelings. He didn’t fool himself into thinking he’d never experience love, but the idea that he’d sacrifice himself for another person pushed the boundaries of reality.

  Samantha sighed and brought Luc back to the present. He could no longer see the bright colors of her bedroom in the darkness. His back ached from the awkward position on the floor, and the reminiscing reminded him of why he usually didn’t get overly involved in people’s affairs.

  He steeled himself against Samantha and pulled his hand away. She frowned and tucked her fingers under her cheek, but otherwise didn’t stir. Luc stood and stretched, deciding he’d restrained himself enough for one day. Her house offered a rare opportunity to find out more about her.

  Might as well start with the bedroom. He pulled back the curtains, and the light from a full moon offered enough illumination for a cursory search. Her desk area didn’t appeal to him as they worked in the same field. A consummate professional, she wouldn’t mix business and pleasure.

  Her tiny closet didn’t reveal much other than that she was badly in need of a remodel. She’d organized the space ruthlessly, but it still felt crowded. The master bedroom in his penthouse boasted two walk-in closets, but then, he’d had a century to implement his preferences.

  Luc glanced around, noting the lack of another door. She didn’t even have an en suite, which explained the
small vanity. Her meager stock of make-up surprised him. His experience dictated that women enjoyed the ritual of camouflage, and he’d assumed Samantha felt the same. In fact, the mirror revealed smears of some kind on his shirt where she’d rested her face.

  He examined the stain, shrugged, and turned away. Another bit of her armor, but the impersonal part. Luc liked women, however they chose to decorate themselves, but he wanted to know the parts of Samantha that she didn’t show the rest of the world.

  A large bookshelf against the far wall drew his eye. She used it to display art and trinkets as well as books. The bottom half featured doors to close off the shelves from prying eyes. Inside, he found the rest of her clothes folded neatly into piles, along with two locked drawers. Luc grinned and ran his hand along the soft fabric of a sweater, touching as many of her things as possible to see if she noticed.

  He could have picked the locks easily enough, but magic made the job easier. The first drawer held a tied packet of old correspondence. Birthday cards to Samantha signed with only a name, a series of check stubs to a property management firm, and an obituary. Luc squinted to make out the faded ink. Vanessa Anne Bailey, survived by her daughter, died unexpectedly on March fourth… Samantha’s mother?

  The woman’s death correlated with the last check stub, sent a long time ago in human terms. Luc frowned. The only other time he’d been in Samantha’s bedroom had been on March fourth. He’d found her at the bar of the hotel he owned, tipsy as hell and ostensibly waiting for him. Being a gentleman, Luc had escorted her home. The date stuck out in his mind because that remained the only night he’d gotten past her shields.

  Luc replaced the packet without reading further. He’d gotten a hint of her past, but to his surprise, he wanted her to reveal the rest to him, painful or otherwise. She’d locked these memories away, and while his snooping would give him the details, he could only speculate on why she kept them hidden. And the why was infinitely more interesting.