Hunter Page 12

  Tatyana smiled at him, obliterating right and wrong with a sexy, throaty laugh. “I wanted to kiss you, too,” she told him with amusement. “Ever since last night.”

  “Yeah. I know the feeling,” he sighed.

  Tatyana freed her hands from his and pressed them on the mattress on either side of his shoulders, holding herself up over him as she smiled. “You’re a good man, Hunter Finn. And you’re right. We should talk about a few things. But that doesn’t mean I will stop feeling the way I do. Wanting you this way.”

  “Come on,” he said softly, reaching to close the buttons on her shirt and watching her swiftly flush. Just like that, from bold to blushing, even while she still lay suggestively over him with her desire stark in her gaze. “We’ll talk. Then I want to make certain you’re healed thoroughly.”

  “I feel fine.” Tatyana cocked a sly brow, pairing it with a sneaky grin. “Don’t I feel fine?”

  She squirmed, and then laughed when he groaned and grabbed her by the hips to encourage her sexy ride for a minute before cursing and rolling her off him abruptly.

  “Wretch,” he ground out at her as he flung himself off the bed and straightened his clothing. He even fetched a shirt, letting it give him a sense of being armored against her when, in fact, there was only one part of him that was presently bulletproof. With a sigh he moved out to the sitting room and sat before the low fire. The clock told him they hadn’t actually slept very long. No more than four or five hours.

  Soon Tatyana bounced cheerily out of the room, dressed in her borrowed robe now as she flounced into the chair opposite him with a grin and the primmest posture she could humanly manage.

  “Okay. ‘Lucy, you got some ‘splainin to do!’ ” she quipped, snickering at her own joke when he couldn’t help but smile. She was taking this incredibly lightly. When he began to explain things, she would probably be royally pissed off. Mainly at him.

  “Let’s start with the important basics,” he began.

  “You’re all witches.”

  “Uh ... yeah ...” Hunter hesitated a long minute. She said it as though she were talking about the weather, as if she met witches every day. “How did you know?”

  “Well, I realized you were casting spells, I heard the word coven a couple of times, and,” she added deprecatingly, “seeing as how I graduated kindergarten, I’m kinda smart like that.”

  “Yeah,” he laughed sheepishly, “that you are. Yes, we’re witches. White witches. Good witches. The ones who attacked last night are dark witches. Warlocks. Dark and white witches ... it’s a good versus evil thing that sounds like a bad gothic novel.” He rubbed his hands together, feeling a chill when he felt the mocking sting of the cut on his palm. “I’m making light, but it’s very serious actually. Witches die in these battles all of the time. We were lucky last night. Lucky not to lose you.

  “I’m sorry you got caught up in this danger, Tatyana. I want you to know you’re under the protection of the entire coven. I won’t let anyone hurt you if it’s in my power to prevent it.” Hunter sat forward and clasped her hands, needing to keep connected to her.

  “Relax, Hunter,” she soothed with a mellow tone as she squeezed his hands. “I’m not going to have fits of fainting or screaming. I’m a specially gifted person from an Old World family. Witches, gypsies, and ‘the sight’ are all part of the stories I heard growing up. I admit, I never believed ... not to the extent ... well, what I saw last night...” She laughed and shook her head. “But that’s the point of a secret, isn’t it? I’m not supposed to know. No one is. You’d have kept me ignorant if I hadn’t run out in the middle of it all. Correct?”

  “Yes,” he agreed grimly.

  “Okay. So, I understand that you’re witches. I can even grasp that I actually saw magic last night. Some pretty freaking awesome magic. I’m going to pass on the whole good witch/bad witch thing just now. So, here’s the part I don’t understand ...”

  Tatyana released his hand, peeling open the other while nudging her opposite palm alongside it. Last night, Hunter had asked her to trust his choice. Even though the choice was usually inevitable, he still wished he’d had the time to help her understand that.

  Hunter didn’t shy from his duty of explanation. What was done was done, and it had already been proven to have been for the better. “Tatyana, there are many complexities to witches and witchcraft. As we advance in skill, we each make choices along the way which often completely alter our lives and who we become.”

  “Sounds no different from the usual growing up and maturing,” she observed.

  “No difference at all,” he agreed. “Witches are born. They cannot be made. Each of us is born with a specific connection to the magics of the world. We call them schools. But let’s start with basics. There are two types of witches.”

  “Good and bad?”

  “Actually, no. Witches, like people, aren’t born good or bad. They choose their Path to become one or the other.” Hunter brought them back to his original point. “Two witches are born; one is ‘active’ and one is ‘dormant.’ The active witch develops power quickly and will usually come to the notice of a mature witch who will mentor the child until he or she is old enough to choose a Path.” He paused. “Now, the dormant witch has power, but it’s latent. It often stays that way until puberty. These witches don’t attract the attention of mentors because by the time they start manifesting ability, they’re old enough to know it makes them different. They hide what they can do, afraid they will be labeled freaks or worse.” Hunter watched her face, and he could tell it was the anger of recognition that tipped her cheeks and nose pink. He wasn’t surprised. “These dormant witches are often mistaken for psychics, by themselves and by others. They can read minds, see the future, move objects with telekinesis, and so on. Some hide it, some cash in on it, and some ... some can’t handle it at all.

  “The trouble is, these dormant witches are very vulnerable to warlocks and rogues.” He held up a hand when he saw the coming query. “When active witches reach maturity, they choose a Path. They either choose to enter a coven or they go rogue. A rogue witch is sort of neutral. A free agent. They can be good, bad, or even indifferent. Rogues don’t often grow to their full potential, so most witches choose to go ‘in coven.’ A dark coven or a white coven. Though we’re not flawlessly good, a white coven strives for good intentions. Dark covens strive only to gain for themselves, using magic for power and prestige.

  “Now, if a dormant witch is discovered by a rogue or warlock, they can do what I did to you last night, Tatyana. They can force a blood exchange. This will activate the dormant witch’s power. The blood of the principal witch jump-starts it.”

  “You ... you made me a witch? I mean,” she corrected herself quickly, “you activated me? I’m a full-blown witch now?”

  “That is ... it’s not quite accurate, Tatyana,” he stammered slightly. “Listen to me very carefully and don’t interrupt me if possible. This will start off sounding unpleasant, but it will get better, I promise. Okay?”

  “I ...” Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “Okay.”

  “When I realized you were having visions of me, I knew instantly that you were a dormant witch. Under ideal circumstances, I would’ve better prepared you, but with dark witches all around us, I couldn’t risk you running around unclaimed.”

  “Unclaimed?” she said on the barest of whispers.

  “If an active witch encounters a dormant witch, the principal witch can claim the quiescent witch. It’s called making a familiar. The claim is made by blood exchange. This activates the familiar’s powers, but ... but the familiar will now be under the command of the principal witch. The principal witch can then utilize the familiar like a battery. A power source. The connection works both ways, but the stronger witch can block the less experienced one easily. These familiars ...” Hunter hesitated for the first time, and then decided it was best just to push through, “... they lose all individual identity. They are slaves whose only purp
ose is to provide energy for the witch mastering them.”

  “Oh my God,” Tatyana exhaled the words in horror, her complexion so pale that her freckles stood out starkly. She jerked her hands out of his, folding one arm around her middle as she leaned forward, clasping her free hand to her mouth and looking very much like she was going to be sick.

  Hunter slid his chair as close to her as possible, ignoring her sharp flinch when he touched her cheek. “Easy, angel. Remember, it gets better.”

  “What can be better about having your entire life and identity stripped away?” she demanded, her throat working in a convulsive swallow.

  “Nothing,” he agreed firmly. “It’s a horrible existence and I won’t pretty it up. The fate of a dark familiar is one I consider worse than death. Dark familiars are often used as sexual slaves. Since their free will no longer exists, the principal witch extorts everything they can with the advantage.” Hunter grabbed her before she could fly out of her chair from the revulsion that leapt into her wide, terrified eyes. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said fiercely, drawing hard on her hands as they curled into fists, “but I’m telling you the worst of it first so you can understand how narrow an escape you made last night; so you will understand why I had to force a blood exchange.

  “Listen to me now.” He made sure to enunciate every single word of his next sentence. “White witches don’t keep familiars, Tatyana. We can make them and we can do all the same things rogues and warlocks would do to them, but we consider it an abomination. It’s expressly forbidden for a white witch to exploit a familiar. The enslavement of another being for selfish purposes goes against everything white magic has ever stood for.

  “When a white witch brings over a dormant witch, angel, it is only so that the neophyte can be released to the world of magic in safety. With free will. If I don’t press my will on you from one witch’s moon to the next”—Hunter shook his head in frustration, then clarified—“one full moon to the next, my ability to hold you enthralled in any way will be terminated for all time. It’s my intention, as an honorable white witch, to be your mentor in the world of witchcraft. I will take nothing from you that you don’t freely give, and you may freely take everything I offer that will be helpful to you. That is the white magic way.

  “Now, you need to understand that the blood connection itself lasts forever,” he told her plainly. “By that I mean it’s like having a guardian angel watching over you. I will always carry a sense of you with me, wherever I go. You will always carry a sense of me as well. Unobtrusively.”

  “A ... sense?”

  “In a good way,” he reassured her softly. “Trust me. If you are in danger, I will know it in an instant. If you are hurt, frightened, or ... if you need my help in any way. The reverse is also true, from me to you.”

  “Okay, let me see if I have this straight,” Tatyana said, exhaling long and slow between pursed lips before continuing. “You bring a familiar over and set them free to become a witch. And that’s all? You won’t...” Tatyana flushed rosily and Hunter could easily guess the thoughts plaguing her. “You only want to be a teacher for me? Show me how to be a witch?”

  “Exactly,” he said with intensity. “Tatyana, if I’d let you leave here unclaimed and unprotected, you’d have been in danger all the rest of your life. Now, you have every right to live that way if you choose to. I wish it was a choice you could have made for yourself. Sometimes dormant witches can live quietly, never exercising their psychic powers so they don’t attract undue attention. It’s risky, but possible. However,” he sighed, “the coven we were fighting is formidable and astute. There are spells that uncover suppressed power. Just your being here would make them suspicious enough to cast one. Making you my familiar kept you safe from them.”

  “So, now nobody else can make me a familiar?”

  “No one else. I’ve claimed you and my blood protects you. I’m sorry to make you a witch in such a way, without permission or explanation, but I hope you see ...”

  “No, I do see,” she breathed, turning her hands over and grasping his tightly. “You were protecting me from a fate that...” Tatyana shuddered. “My God. I just never knew.”

  “Most don’t. Your life will be very different now, Tatyana. You’ll need to keep secrets, even from loved ones. You’ll need to learn how to tame new surges of power. I could go on, but I don’t want to overwhelm you.” Hunter smiled, gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Understand, angel, I’m only sorry about not giving you an initial warning. Otherwise, I’m selfishly delighted to have you in my world. Magic is a phenomenal thing. I’m bursting with everything I want to share.

  “There’s also no reason for you to lose the things you love because witchcraft has entered your life. We all have our passions separate from magic. In fact, hobbies and magic tend to blend very well. But”—he waved his own excitement off—“there will be time to explain all of that. I don’t want to overload you. I know you’re trying to wrap your mind around the basics. Not to mention the amount of trust you’ve unwittingly extended to me.”

  She looked at him, tilting her head and studying him. “You asked me to trust you, and I will. I’d know if you meant me harm, Hunter. And you’re right; I need time to assimilate all of this.” She hesitated and he saw little stars of pink dotting her cheeks. “I do have one question though.”

  “Anything. My knowledge is yours, angel.”

  “You ... you said we were being influenced ... uh ... earlier. What did you mean?”

  Hunter released a breathy chuckle and smiled at her, though he had a hard time meeting her eyes now. “There are a few side effects with the blood exchange. A familiar is flooded with the veteran power of the proficient witch, and the virgin power of the familiar inundates the proficient. The consequence is a permanent vitalization of the sexual natures of both witch and familiar. They develop a heightened sensuality, a striking increase in pheromone levels, and become arresting to the opposite sex. There’s a dynamic new sexual confidence, lowered inhibitions, and a ... uh ... rapacious carnal appetite.”

  “Oh God!” she gasped. “You mean I’m going to become a slut?”

  “No, no,” Hunter laughed, shaking his head when he got a cutting look. “Your selectivity will be the same as before.” He hedged a moment, but he couldn’t bail on her now. “Well ... maybe for the very first week it will be a wild ride as we adjust, and you may not always make the wisest choices in some respects. I suppose our earlier conduct attests to that. I don’t think either of us is the type to fall into bed after only a few hours’ acquaintance. Although,” he said pointedly, “I feel I have to add that the temptation was already there before we ever exchanged blood, Tatyana.”

  This time she was the one who laughed. She shot him a look out of the corner of her eyes that positively sizzled. “I’d have to say that was very mutual.”

  “Okay, now, giving me looks like that will get you into a world of trouble. Damn!” Hunter stood up and paced away from her. Just one suggestive sentence and he was instantly twisting into hard knots. It was incredible.

  “Sorry,” she said, not looking at all repentant as she smiled with sly speculation. Hunter was filled with disquiet as he watched her wicked mind work behind her vivid eyes. Tatyana was already irresistible. Having her around the house while they were both on a sexual bender was going to thrash him. “So any other side effects?” she asked, settling back in her chair with a sensual wriggle and a smirk.

  Did she mean besides his having a coronary at the tender age of thirty-four? Hunter laughed a little nervously to himself. He suddenly had insight into how Dr. Frankenstein must have felt.

  “One other,” he said. “You and I will find it very difficult to be apart until the second witch’s moon has passed. This first week will be the most intense. I know you can feel it like I do already. But I promise it will ease.”

  “I don’t understand. You said the principal witch controls the familiar.”

  “I won
’t try to control you.”

  “If a familiar has so much sexual sway, isn’t the witch’s position weakened? Your reactions to me, for example. You act as if I’m dominant in this situation.”

  “You’re right,” he said uneasily. “Normally the controlling witch isn’t affected by the familiar unless they choose to be. They never lose control.”

  “Well,” she said gently, pushing up out of her chair and crossing to him until she stood close enough to warm him with her body heat. “Not to be rude reminding you of it, but earlier, I didn’t see you exhibiting any control. Or did you?”

  “Honestly?” he said, his voice hoarse as her fantastic scent swept over him. “I have no idea how I managed to stop.” Against all good sense, he reached to draw her up tight against himself. “I’ve never in my life felt anything like how I feel with you. No, Tatyana,” he breathed, the truth stark in his tone, “I wouldn’t lay strong bets on my ability to maintain control. I’d be very careful if I were you. I won’t have you plagued with regrets a week from now.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly, her eyes sweet and slumberous. Her warm breath skimmed his cheek as she wriggled a single, silky finger between their lower bodies. Tatyana slowly ran her fingertip up the hard ridge of erect flesh lying prominently beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. “I feel bad that you hurt like this,” she murmured, waiting just long enough to feel a telltale twitch jolt through him before dropping her touch away. “I know how close you were, Hunter,” she whispered. “I could feel it. Yet you held back to keep me from feeling cheapened or used, and I appreciate that.”

  “I was selfish, believe me,” he argued, her boldness demanding truth whether she wanted it or not. It was important she not form inaccurate romantic images. “I’m not so gallant. To be honest, I was thinking that if I used you then, I would never be able to have you again.” Hunter lowered his head so his mouth was near her ear, the touch of his breath making her shiver even as his words sank in. “When I have you, Tatyana, it won’t be only once, and it won’t be with regrets. I knew the minute I saw you that I wanted you. I knew after ten minutes of conversation with you that I was going to have you. After you ran out into the night to try and protect me, I knew I was going to have a damn hard time letting you go afterward. Am I clear here, angel?”