Witches' Waves (9 page)

He rested his hand on her shoulder. Lord and Lady, her bones were as fine as a bird's, and she was desperately thin, but she had a core of steel strength under that fragility. And her magic, flowing in waves like water, was as powerful as any he'd encountered. “Someone here can help you. I promise.”

Meaghan nodded. It looked like she was meeting his gaze, but that had to be an illusion. “I'll let them have a go at me—but you have to promise to teach me how to use my magic. I have to learn fast. I don't have much time. If they're coming for Jocelyn, none of us do.”

“I'll teach you.” Deck's voice cracked slightly as he said it. The weight of the commitment was almost too much to bear. He wasn't good enough to teach her, wasn't safe to teach her. But someone had to. His grandmother and aunt could save her from her medical issue, but she had to be able to survive fighting the Agency. And unless his sister Maura or his cousin Finn came home unexpectedly, with their own water magic and their teaching abilities, it was all on him. He tried to cover his panic, but he suspected Meaghan caught it. For someone who couldn't see, she didn't miss much.

In an attempt to hide his agitation, he turned Meaghan around in Kyle's arms and kissed her. Kyle's arms stayed wrapped around her, supporting her, and he could feel Kyle's dual heat, Kyle's desire for him—no, for both of them, just as he'd suspected—despite the difficulty of the moment.

He tried to make it a gentle, reassuring kiss, but once he tasted Meaghan's sweet lips, the cool, oceanic waves of her power and the warmth of her unexpected desire on his skin, it was damn hard not to take it further.

His magic had its own ideas about Meaghan. Though Deck's healing abilities were limited, the human body contained so much water he could tell if something was seriously wrong with someone. And Meaghan didn't
feel
dangerously ill. Her energy seemed off-kilter, but for all he knew, simply being blind might make her energy different from most people's because she processed information differently. Meaghan tasted of intense but friendly water magic, something else familiar and strong and a little scary, and she wrapped her arms around him and kissed back, pressing her body against him. Her aura embraced him as hard as her slender arms could not. When he looked at her with witch-sight, she didn't look fragile at all. Like Elissa, she was petite, but she packed a lot of magic and will into a small body.

Common sense and the sexual decency that every Donovan learned from an early age—a necessity when red magic, and thus the ability to seduce even without meaning to, ran in the family—kicked in. She'd been abused magically and physically; she might have been sexually abused as well. And she'd just told him she was dying. Even if he wasn't sure the diagnosis was correct, she believed it, and it was rude to turn a gesture of comfort into one of possessiveness and lust. He pulled away, almost apologized, but decided that would be rude in itself since she'd shown every sign of enjoying the kiss. “I hope that was all right,” he said instead, surprised by how hesitant and humble his voice sounded. It wasn't his usual style, but Meaghan threw him for a loop.

Meaghan didn't say anything at first, but she looked up at him with huge, unseeing green eyes—it was uncanny the way she met his gaze even though she couldn't see him, and he was pretty used to uncanny. She was smiling, her oversized aura peaceful and happy.

And heavily streaked with arousal.

Finally she spoke, and when she did, her voice was husky and amused. “All right? That was more than all right. I'm sick, but I'm not dead yet. Even my hair's all tingly and happy. But you should kiss Kyle too. It's only fair.”

Deck had a feeling his mouth was hanging open like an idiot.

It gaped even more when Kyle quipped, “Don't you know about all's fair in love and war?” He changed position, using his otter's lithe grace, and closed his mouth over Meaghan's.

For the first time, Deck fully understood what Kyle meant about otters always being either dominant or submissive, never just having a vanilla good time. Kyle crushed Meaghan to him, one hand gripping the hair at the back of her neck and pulling her face up to meet his, the other grasping her ass. “You're not going to die,” Kyle whispered fiercely. “I won't allow it.” And then he kissed Meaghan as if he could breathe his own life energy into her body with the power of his kiss. As if he were practicing his own form of red magic and hoped to heal with it.

Which would be an impressive trick. Duals with magical abilities were so rare they weren't even a statistical blip, but in that moment, Deck could believe Kyle could do magic by sheer force of will, like a sorcerer, using a dual's innate stubbornness and gift for imagery rather than a sorcerer's web of words. He just hoped Kyle wouldn't accidentally injure Meaghan. Deck loved Kyle's intense physicality but a petite, sick woman might find it hard to take.

Deck poised to intervene if necessary, but Meaghan moaned and curved her body to meet Kyle's, melding to Kyle as sweetly and willingly as she had to him. The red streaks in her aura flared even brighter.

Deck was a little envious of the response, but also of Kyle's passion that had provoked it. If Deck had a sexually submissive streak, he'd never found it, but he was a sucker for a touch of rough possessiveness. A kiss like that one would definitely get him going, even if it ended with him wrestling Kyle into a playful submission they'd both enjoy.

Now that was a hot thought.

And once they'd taken the edge off with each other, they could turn their attention to Meaghan. That way, they might both be able to hold back enough to pleasure her without leaving the wrong kind of marks, either physical or psychological. Neither Meaghan's illness nor her dark past seemed to hamper her ability to experience pleasure, but they'd have to be careful with her. More gentle than either of them were inclined to be by nature.

No. It was wrong to think about a kinky threesome with someone who might be dying.

At the moment he couldn't remember why it was wrong. Meaghan deserved to have some fun, given that her life had been sucktastic so far and might be short. He might be all kinds of a fuckup, but his lovers had never complained about his abilities in bed. His reliability outside the bedroom, sure, but not his sexual prowess. And Kyle was a wild ride. But it still seemed to go against Donovan ethics to hit on a dying woman.

Not to mention that while Elissa and her guys, and Paul and Tag and Akane, made their threesomes work, Deck and Kyle were both possessive. Even if Meaghan weren't off-limits for a host of reasons, it would get messy.

Then Kyle released Meaghan and turned to him. Deck had been slack-jawed with confusion and Kyle took full advantage of it.

Deck nipped at the tongue suddenly in his mouth. Grabbed Kyle's ass and pulled him closer, grinding against him. Kyle's body tightened, then eased, all but the taut cock bulging the front of his shorts. Deck sucked and nipped at Kyle's tongue, kissing him hard.

Devouring Kyle. Imprinting himself with the feel of Kyle, the taste of his mouth and the scent of his skin, letting Kyle fill his senses so there was less room for Meaghan.

He separated himself from Kyle's mouth and whispered, “Mine.”

Kyle clung to him, his heart racing, his cock like steel. “Yours. But you've got to help me. Because I have this feeling Meaghan's mine like I'm yours. And I could hurt her.”

Deck didn't think he could pull Kyle any closer, but he managed. Just clung to him and hoped he could find the words to help.

He'd never been so happy to hear the dinner bell ring.

Chapter Eleven

The sun was low on the western horizon, a few washed-out streaks of rose and orange breaking through gathering sullen clouds to mark the sunset. It had been clear all day by Oregon standards, meaning it hadn't rained except over Meaghan during the ritual. Weather was moving in fast, though, and Kyle expected a rainstorm to break out sooner rather than later. As it was, the sky spit at them, with spray blowing off the water to augment it. The ocean looked surly, waves breaking harder and more agitated than usual as the tide came in. It hadn't been a particularly warm day and as the sun set, the wind off the water acquired a bite, where before it had just been nippy. Perfect otter weather, but he was astonished Deck wasn't cold. Didn't seem to be, though. Deck looked like a modern Viking in jeans and a hoodie, his feet bare. His brilliant-blue eyes stared intently at the rough water.

Unshaven. He was unshaven, and despite everything, Deck's rough blond stubble turned Kyle on. But the
everything
right now was a big, scary mountain, and otters weren't built to climb mountains.

Hell and dry land, he'd panicked at leaving Meaghan back at the main house, safe in the company of two dozen witches and eating her first homemade pie with the same awe she enjoyed every new experience, but out of his sight.

Yeah, the weather suited Kyle's mood. Being in the rough water would suit it even better, but he needed to talk to Deck.

Then he needed to fuck Deck, or be fucked by Deck, until the taut tangle of feelings inside him eased—the fear that he'd gotten in way over his head, the fierce need for Meaghan that he had to fight because he might harm her, the even fiercer need for Deck that had scared Deck off once and might do so again. Control. He needed control or he was going to explode.

At least he could make sure he exploded at Deck if he had to let off steam. Deck could take him down and make him enjoy it.

But it wasn't just the oblivion of fucking he needed. And he didn't think Deck got, yet, what the problem was, why he was a potential sexual time bomb.

He tried to find rational words. Then he gave up on that. “I can't do this.” Kyle grabbed Deck's arm. “You have to help me.”

“With Meaghan?”

“With Meaghan. I've told you how otters are. We play rough. We can't help it. And it's all right when I'm with you because you're a big guy, and you like to play hard too. You can wrestle me, take me down, get kinky, or I could give it back to you, and it's just
fun
.”

Deck grinned.

“But Meaghan's so vulnerable, so fragile, so
small
… The wordy part of me sees her as someone who needs my help and protection, but the otter in me sees this sexy little female that I should claim. Just mount and fuck senseless. Mark her as mine.

“I just rescued her from a suicide attempt. I'm pretty sure she's been sexually abused. I'm not even sure she knows it's all right to say no, because we started making out one time and she said some really spooky stuff. But I'm falling for her, on top of simply wanting her. I know I should ignore it…but, Deck, I don't know if I can. And she's
dying
.”

“We're all dying, Kyle.” Deck sounded almost as freaky as his aunt who talked to ghosts. “She just knows it and the rest of us can forget.”

Deck shook himself, then added in a more normal voice, “If you could see her with witch-sight, you might not be as nervous about her. Or maybe you'd be more nervous. She's got some serious power. Not just the visions. She's got way more raw water power than anyone in my family—and she has nothing in her background, I repeat,
nothing
that will prevent her from using it to kill if she feels threatened. It might burn her out, but since she seems willing to die to get the job done, I doubt that would stop her. And she was raised by a crazy Agency sorcerer.”

Great. What Deck was saying made the situation even more hopeless. “So…cosmic power, no knowledge of magical ethics, working entirely on instinct and about a million reasons to be trigger-happy. As if simple decency weren't enough reason to keep my hands off her, there's always not wanting to get killed because I did something stupid.” His path was clear. “I need to not touch her. Need to stop wondering what it would be like to be inside her, to have that ocean and amber scent around me as I fuck her…and damn, that's not helping one bit.”

Deck laughed. Deck laughed a lot, often at times other people wouldn't, but this time it didn't sound especially convincing. “Not helping me either. Her magic calls out to mine. She's beautiful. And Donovans are raised to respond to damsels in distress, even if said damsel could conjure up a two-hundred-foot wave under the right conditions, and even you and I couldn't surf that. But I have an idea. It's probably a bad one, given that we're both possessive assholes—I mean, we started getting possessive of each other before we'd done anything more than
flirt
, and it's got to be worse now that I'm able to admit I'm in to you.”

“I'll listen to your bad idea. At worst, I can mock it, which beats moping. At best, it won't actually be bad. You're way smarter than you let on.”

“You say I can control you. That you'll submit to me. Would that hold under trying circumstances—like if Meaghan were naked and willing and with us both? If I told you to follow my lead until you knew you could handle it alone, could you do that?”

Kyle gulped, his head swimming and his cock hard. This might be a terrible idea, but it felt way less stupid than either of them making a play for Meaghan on his own. And it seemed inevitable that one or both of them would give in to temptation before long. They shouldn't. They both knew all the reasons they shouldn't. But they might anyway. “I think so. And if I couldn't, I know you can take me out with a right cross, even if you wouldn't do it with magic.”

“Well, that solves that.”

Deck sounded so confident that Kyle had to laugh. “You're assuming she wants a threesome with us. She's shown interest in me, and I think she likes you too, or at least she also feels that magical connection you were talking about.”

“I see auras, remember. I do red magic. We both turn her on.”

“The kisses kind of hinted at that.” Kyle couldn't help smiling at the memory. “But getting into a three-way with two bi guys is pretty advanced for a sick girl who was brought up as a lab rat and was probably abused.”

“I've been telling myself that too. But if I were in her shoes, still more or less healthy but knowing my time was limited, I'd try anything that sounded fun. Especially if I hadn't had much chance to experience life before I found out I was sick.”

Kyle had to think only a few seconds before he said, “Powers know I'd be doing all kinds of crazy things while I still could.”

“And it's kind of presumptuous to assume she's not interested in sex because she's been diagnosed with something awful. Might give her something to live for.”

Kyle sputtered. “Be serious. We're good, but we're not that good.”

“I am serious. I'm not saying we're magically able to cure people with sex, even really great sex. But Meaghan's life's been toxic. I'm related to some of the best magical healers in the world, and one thing I've learned is that joy can help keep someone going.”

Kyle felt hope for the first time in the conversation. “Assuming she's willing, I'm confident we can show a lady a good enough time she can forget her troubles for a while. And maybe that will keep her healthy long enough for your grandmother and the others to figure out how to cure her. Because I'll be damned and land bound if I let her die.”

Deck's eyes widened at Kyle's words, showing he understood otter culture better than Kyle had realized.
Damned
was mild language by most human standards, hardly even cursing, but the notion of hell was horrifying to duals, since it would mean a soul couldn't move on. And combining it with something that was a harsh curse by otter standards got the point across.

“You're serious about this,” Deck said. “And since you're the smart one, that makes me think it might actually be a good idea, not just our dicks talking. If she says no, we'll both treat her like a little sister from that moment on. If she says yes…”

“Does your family stock lube in bulk?” Even while he said it, Kyle knew his attempt at humor was forced. Reflexive. He felt much too serious right now, much too intense, as if he truly believed that finding a way to be with Meaghan was a matter of life and death.

And not just for her.

“Of course we do.” Deck's sounded as strained as Kyle's joke. “I like your problem with Meaghan better than my problem with her, and I can't figure out how you
can
help me. Everyone expects me to help Meaghan learn to use her water magic, including Meaghan, but I can't.”

Kyle let his own rant be derailed by the unexpected edge of panic in Deck's voice. Deck was always laid-back, almost otterlike in his ability to let difficulties roll off his back. His being upset was more than a little alarming. “Why not?”

“Just can't. My magic…my fucking magic…”

Kyle reached for him, but Deck shook off Kyle's hand and began to pace. Despite the size of the beach, the area available to him, he walked a tight path, maybe fifteen steps away from Kyle, turning at a great driftwood log tossed up during a long-ago storm, then fifteen steps back to Kyle.

Kyle let him do two rounds alone, watching the wind whip around his long, blond hair. On the third pass, he fell in by Deck's side. “Pretend I don't understand magic. Wait, you don't have to pretend. So explain what the problem is, in itty-bitty words an otter can understand.”

Still pacing, Deck snorted. It was almost a laugh, if you didn't know how rich and full Deck's laugh normally was. “Too late to play dumb with me, med-school guy. You could give Elissa a run for her money and she has a PhD from Cornell.”

“That doesn't mean I understand magic. Why does everyone think
you
, of the witches here, should teach Meaghan, and why is it a problem?” Kyle prepared to turn at the log, but Deck apparently decided that since they were walking together now, he could just keep going.

“Water magic makes you restless, so most of us travel more than the other Donovans, as soon as we're able to get away on our own. I have earth magic as well as water, though, which means I'm restless, but also rooted enough I always wander back home. The only other adult water witch who's currently at Donovan's Cove is Portia. That would be a bad idea because Portia and Meaghan both have visionary-type powers and really poor shields. Plus Portia got fucked with by a sorcerer around Yule and she's still about one bit of stress away from batshit crazy. Hence, I'm the fall guy. But I'm not sure I can teach anyone else because my own magic's so odd. Especially not Meaghan, because I'm not sure she could handle the fallout, physically. Maybe not emotionally either. We don't know what her damage is.”

Too confused to find human words, Kyle raised his eyebrows and made a little chittering noise.

“Water and earth is a weird combination,” Deck explained. “They don't play well together, and sometimes my magic doesn't do what I expect it to, or refuses to work at all. The combination could come in handy if I wanted to be a human tsunami detector, which I'll probably end up doing once I get past caring whether it makes my father proud of me. Or a tsunami creator, which I'm terrified I'll do sometime by mistake. But it's definitely weird.”

“Where does the drawing-lightning thing fit?”

Deck speeded up his pace, and Kyle, with his shorter legs, found himself working harder to keep up. “It doesn't. The Thorssens, my mother's family…”

“Thorssen as in Thor, God of Thunder?” Kyle knew Deck's mother came from Norway and assumed she was from a witch clan, but Deck had never said that much about her background.

“It's a common Scandinavian name.” He mumbled it as if he'd said it a lot over the years and could rattle it off without thinking about it.

“And?”

Deck's voice dropped to a near whisper, but Kyle could still hear him clearly as he explained, “The original Thor wasn't a divine avatar, just such a big ass weather witch he went down in history as a storm god. Legends have to start somewhere.”

Kyle stored that tidbit away for later. So Mom was descended from a supposed Scandinavian
god
. Talk about your elevated parental expectations, on top of the usual Donovan snootiness.

“Anyway,” Deck went on, his voice tense, though his stride remained loose and graceful, “the Thorssens have storm powers. They can draw energy from weather systems. Some of them can do all kinds of things with electricity and lightning. Mom does funky stuff with snow and ice. But I just got the one trick, and it doesn't work like the Thorssen powers, but it's not like any of the Donovan powers either. More like my great-aunt Josie, who did magic by the seat of her pants.”

“That's definitely your style,” Kyle ventured.

“It would be, only sometimes the lightning magic happens without warning. Especially if I'm under pressure, which is the last time I want to be dealing with a gnarly electrical storm on top of whatever else is going on.”

“That's why you backpedaled so hard when your aunts said you had to help with the ritual on Meaghan?”

“They figure I can control it if I work hard enough. What the fuck do they think I've been doing my entire life?” Deck stopped, turned to Kyle and grabbed his shoulders. “I probably meditate more than anyone here. I surf as much as I do because it clears my head. I practice yoga. I've studied up on lightning magic in other witch lines until my head aches. Paul helps with translating stuff from languages I don't know. And still, with all that…bam! The occasional lightning strike. Not something I want to have happen when I'm with the blind newbie witch with more power than she knows how to handle. Add that to my water magic being funky because of the earth affinity, and I don't know if I'm more likely to help the poor girl or kill her. But someone has to teach her or she's likely to kill herself, or someone else, trying to figure stuff out on her own. Powers want to be used. Water magic gone amok here is bad news. But it'll be equally bad if her powers and mine interact weirdly. We're not that far from the Cascadia fault, and with earth and water powers combining, and the lightning on top of that…”