Storm Of Magick Part 5

"What do you mean?" I asked, a little suspicious.

"Logan, just do whatever he says! I'm losing my grip," Paris said shortly.

I opened myself fully to him and I couldn't describe what I felt, but Paris's eyes grew large. I could smell jasmine, Ronan's scent, as if he were standing next to me. I tried again to push the vampire off and this time I had no problem pus.h.i.+ng both the vampire and Paris to their feet.

"Do you have a good hold on him?" I asked Paris.

"Yeah, I got him." Paris just stared at me. I knew that look in his eyes. I'd seen it too many times to say. I usually got it when I spoke to the dead and humans watched me do it. It was a look of horror. I scared people.

I got to my feet, walked to the vampire, reared back with my left fist and hit him with all I had. To my surprise, he went limp in Paris's arms and was out. Take that, a.s.shole! "Now, will you tell me why you're looking at me like I sprouted a second head?" I asked Paris.

"Go look in the mirror," he said as if that answered everything.

I walked to the mirror on the wall and looked at myself. My eyes were the same color as Ronan's. All I could see was violet, no white or hint of ice blue. Okay, I was officially a little freaked out.

Don't panic, you can handle this! I told myself sternly. I'd had enough of the mind-to-mind bulls.h.i.+t. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Ronan. I didn't even hear the phone ring before he answered.

"Logan, are you okay?" Ronan asked. There was something in the tone of his voice but I couldn't quite place what it was.

"Yes, for the most part. But, there's just one little snag. My eyes are the same color as yours," I stated.

"They will go back to normal in a little while. It is because my magick had to enter you," he a.s.sured me.

"Are you sure?" I asked, not convinced.

"Yes," he a.s.sured me.

"Okay. I have to finish this C.O.K. I'll touch base later, Ronan," I told him.

"I shall speak with you later then. Goodbye Logan," he said. He didn't sound too hopeful, which didn't surprise me or make me feel any better. As always, there was a formality to his speech.

I tucked my phone away and turned to face Paris and Hicks.

Hicks pumped the vampire so full of sedatives that if he had been a human or any other supernatural being for that matter - they would have killed him. Since vampires don't need to breathe, Paris got comfortable sitting on his back. It looked funny, Paris sitting on the vampire and bulls.h.i.+tting with Hicks. Vampires, the same as vashon, give only the illusion of breathing, so Paris wasn't hurting him. I don't think that he gave a s.h.i.+t even if he was.

Chapter 7.

"Paris, you want to finish this?" I asked him.

Apparently, Paris had had enough, because his eyes changed, his nails turned into claws and he stood, hauling the vampire with him. The doctor and I watched Paris rip the vampire's heart out. As many times as I've seen Paris do this, I'm still not used to it. He stood there with a heart in his hand, blood running down his arm, and the scent of sour metal filled the air.

"Are you okay?" I asked, slightly p.i.s.sed off. We really didn't need the theatrics now. There was a wild look in his eyes. I wasn't sure what was up his a.s.s but I knew he could control his beast better than this. As long as I had known Paris, he had never done anything so out of character.

"Yes, I'm fine, just a little on edge," he said, turning his neck as if it was stiff.

The next thing he did showed just how 'on edge' he was. Paris sat the b.l.o.o.d.y heart on a stainless steel table nearby, turned back to the vampire, and with his bare hands Paris proceeded to rip the vampire's head off. I think my mouth actually dropped open.

What had happened to make Paris blatantly show his beast like this? And, not just show his beast, but in such a crude way and in front of a human! He just stood there holding the vampire's head by the hair. The s.h.i.+ny muscle and veins hung from the neck in long b.l.o.o.d.y strands. The blood was black and starting to pool at Paris' feet.

He took a Bic lighter out of his tight pants pocket and set the head on fire. It took two seconds for the head to turn to ashes.

As Paris enjoyed watching the head go up in flames, I got his Beretta off the floor in the hallway. Watching him stand there with that grin on his face really p.i.s.sed me off.

As I retrieved the gun, Paris reached for the vampire's heart. I shot a round into the ceiling, hoping I didn't hit anyone on the floor above us. I held the Beretta in my left hand and chambered another round. I knew that my face had grown cold; cold as a murderer's, and I didn't care I was not going to watch him get a hard on by burning the vampire piece by piece.

I aimed at the heart, squeezing the trigger with even pressure, and shot off a round. At this range, I would have no problem exploding the heart into pieces. A piece of it even landed on Hicks and he scrambled to get the piece of flesh off. I really didn't think that it could hurt the good doctor. He just didn't want to wear vampire guts. I don't blame him. I wouldn't like it either.

"Hicks, can you load the rest of the body into the incinerator by yourself?" I asked.

All Hicks did was nod his head a little too fast. I think this little show was almost too much for the good doctor. His face was s.h.i.+ny with sweat and he had gone pale. Hicks had only been the doctor at the medical center for a few months and still wasn't used to this kind of s.h.i.+t.

"Paris, wash up or lick your hands and arms clean. I don't give a s.h.i.+t which, but we have to go," I said. I walked out without another word. I needed caffeine.

I got a Diet c.o.ke from a vending machine room. I drank half of the can at once and then burped. It wasn't the best Diet c.o.ke I had ever had. It was a little flat and tasted like aluminum, but the caffeine helped me calm down a little. Isn't addiction a wonderful thing!

Paris joined me, hands clean. I didn't ask or care how he cleaned them. I studied his face; he looked as normal as any other time.

"I don't know what is up your a.s.s, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again, you will be sitting in the office pus.h.i.+ng paper work so quick it'll make your head spin. I can't deal with your bulls.h.i.+t, murders, and everything else," I told him, walking into the ladies' room, just to get away for a minute.

He didn't follow me, which was a wise decision. I looked at myself in the large mirror that most ladies' rooms have. You know the ones that take up half of the wall and are lit by unkind lighting. My eyes were still violet, still Ronan's eyes.

Suddenly I heard knocking on the door: Paris. I don't think he had been knocking long, but I must have zoned out. I was still p.i.s.sed and almost decided not to answer.

"Logan, are you okay?" he asked.

"I'll be out in a minute," I said, shaking my head.

I poured out the rest of the Diet c.o.ke; it was too sweet and made me a little nauseated. I washed my face, dried it, and walked out. Paris stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall and looking at the floor. I hoped he was thinking about what an a.s.shole he was being. He pushed away from the wall and took a couple steps so he was standing in front of me.

"I'm sorry. I was p.i.s.sed and showed my a.s.s," he said, voice low, like a child being punished.

"I don't care what problems we have, Paris" I began, getting up close, definitely invading his personal s.p.a.ce. Even though I had to look up to scold him, I was going to get my point across. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will slap your a.s.s in an office before you know what hit you." I could feel the vein in the middle of my forehead throbbing with my anger.

I had no idea what he was so p.i.s.sed about and I really didn't give a s.h.i.+t. As usual, my anger got the best of me, because I reared back with my left fist and punched him in the eye, which put Paris on his a.s.s. I don't know what was wrong with me. I would have never done something like this before.

I don't know how I was able to put him down. Either I was stronger because of the surge or Ronan's power, or Paris was off balance and didn't expect it. It was probably the latter of the two. Paris's eye immediately started to swell and turn a pretty shade of deep purple.

My hand hurt like h.e.l.l as I rubbed it with my other hand. It had been like hitting a brick wall, but it was worth it. I believe I got my point across. My knuckles weren't broken but they swelled a little. Paris just sat on the cold, white floor looking up at me, blinking in shock. He was stunned that I put him on his a.s.s. We never really argued normally. Sure, we had disagreements, but it never came to blows like this.

"You deserved that for the macho bulls.h.i.+t you pulled," I told him.

"Logan, you shouldn't have been able to put me on my a.s.s like this," he said, slowly rising. "Something is wrong. You're a lot stronger and your eyes still haven't changed back. What the h.e.l.l has Ronan done to you?"

Oh, was that what he was p.i.s.sed about? I threw the cell phone to him with an 'I don't give a s.h.i.+t' att.i.tude. "Call Ronan or Ailin, but you only have ten minutes, and then we're leaving." I walked down the hall toward the room where I left a shaken up Dr. Hicks.

Paris started dialing, and I heard him speaking with someone before I turned into the holding room. There was still blood all over the floor, and the scent of sour meat filled the room. It was a little overwhelming. Hicks had pulled himself together though, and stood filling out the rest of the paper work. He and his a.s.sistant had loaded the rest of the vampire's body into the incinerator. All that was left to do was to hit the round, green b.u.t.ton and the job was done.

"Wolf, I need you to sign this C.O.K. sheet. And hit the incinerator b.u.t.ton," Hicks said. By law, I was the only one able to incinerate the body.

I walked over and looked in the round window. Seeing the headless body lying on a stainless steel grate like a slab of ribs, I almost felt sorry for the poor a.s.shole. Almost. I hit the b.u.t.ton, watching the body start to burn. It was all over for that vampire, and at least some closure for the victims' families. All I had to do was sign the Kill Sheet. One copy went into the center's files, I got a copy, and so did the state. The vampire had twenty-two kills, all of them children under the age of ten. I signed the papers and was ready to leave. I walked towards the door, stopped and looked back.

"Hicks, I'm sorry for the bulls.h.i.+t," I said and walked out the door. What else was there to say or do? I definitely wasn't going to make a scene. It wasn't my style.

I returned to Paris. He had finished with his call and was pacing in tight circles. The look on his face wasn't good, but what was lately? "You ready to go?" I asked, heading for the exit. The Keeper stood down the hall, waiting for us.

Paris caught up to me and we went to meet the Keeper. We'd almost reached the doors when he stopped me. He put his hand gently on my right arm. "Logan, I spoke to Ronan. He's not sure if your eyes will go back to the way they were. You kind of have the beginnings of vashon strengths..." He stopped, as if what was left to say was too much even for him.

I felt like I'd been hit in the gut. There had to be a better explanation. I was way too deep in this s.h.i.+t and sinking fast. What could I do about it right this second? Nothing! I would have to contact the most powerful witch I knew when this s.h.i.+t was all over. Grams could help, I was sure of it.

"I don't need to know anymore. I can't do anything about what's going on with me, so I can't worry about it or I'll go crazy," I said in a determined voice.

I wouldn't cry as long as no one pitied me. Paris put his arms around me and I felt a lump forming in my throat. I refused to look weak, so I pushed away from him.

"Logan, I care about you. And I know you well enough to know this has upset you," he said.

"You're right, but right now I don't have the luxury to deal with it. Don't you dare pity me, I can deal with anything but pity," I said, staying at a safe distance from him.

I said nothing as we went back to the van. All I could think about was the men that hurt Sam. I owed them pain. When all else fails or goes to h.e.l.l, focus on business.

We got back to the vehicle and rode in silence for a while until the Keeper spoke up.

"I believe that your friend's scrolls are the cause of her attack, Logan. I also sense several powerful magicks at work here," he said.

"I agree. I want to know what is on those scrolls and what they're used for," I replied, clenching my fists.

I sat in my own world for a while. The leather seat was cold but I didn't care. The heater was finally blowing out warm air. I could hear Paris and the Keeper talking, but what they were saying, I didn't notice. I looked out the window, wondering when the surge was going to rear its ugly head. Only time would tell. I hoped not for a while, but something told me fat chance.

I sat there just thinking about the last several hours, letting the anger settle in. More than anything, being p.i.s.sed off right now was a good thing. It made me feel more like myself. It was a place I needed to be so I could do what had to be done.

I sat up straighter in my seat, letting the Ruger dig into the small of my back. Now, I was consciously aware of what was going on around me but I was focused. Paris must have been telling the Keeper about the creature in the woods but I only caught the tail end of the conversation. Just the thought of the Dracae brought me the mental scent of lilacs.

I looked out the window to see we weren't far from the Realm. The snow still came down, but not as heavily. It wouldn't be long until dawn, and now I could feel the damage done by my fight with White Hair. My adrenaline rush had worn off, and now I was feeling the pain in my face and ribs. I was starved, sore and cold. I really didn't think anything was going to change anytime soon. I was tired and my eyes felt heavy. My headache had returned with a vengeance and sleep sounded great right now.

It would have to wait. I'd get some sleep after I talked to Ronan.

Paris pulled into the parking lot behind the Realm, parked in the spot right next to the door and shut off the engine.

Chapter 8.

Again, Caleb opened the door for us, and we went back down the stairs for the second time tonight. I saw no one and heard nothing in the corridor. This close to dawn, most of the vashon would be settling down for the day. Some research says that few vashon can go out during the day, just not full sunlight. I haven't seen it yet.

I really wasn't in the mood for an interrogation. But, I didn't think I was going to get away from it. I wanted to know what was going on with the scrolls.

"Have you learned anything about the scrolls yet?" I asked Caleb. Talking to him in the dimly lit stairwell seemed more intimate than it should've been. Why is it when you're in a darkened area everyone seems to want to whisper?

"Not really, but you have to remember we're starting from scratch. It's going to take a while," he said apologetically. "But I have a computer program at home that can help."

"We'll get it tomorrow," I said with a tired smile.

"Oh yeah, by the way, Alex is waiting for you in the living room," he told me, face serious.

I nodded. I'd totally forgotten about the missing women. Mary was no longer missing; she was a murder victim now. Arguing with Alex over a dead woman was just how I wanted to end my night. I dropped my head. I didn't want to do this, not now. All Alex and I ever did was p.i.s.s each other off. He was one of those people I just couldn't stand. I hadn't liked him from the moment I met him. He was too brutal and I've seen him get people hurt. I just didn't go for it.

"Would you call the hospital and see how Sam's doing?" I asked Paris at the bottom of the stairs.

"If there'd been any change, the doctor would call. Plus we haven't been gone long," Paris said, running his fingers though his hair. It was more habit than nerves.

He was right. I nodded my head and started to walk away. He stopped me and pulled me to him, letting Caleb go on ahead. I put my arms around Paris' waist and laid my head on his tight chest. I knew he lifted weights, more for the visual effect than the physical. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I loved being in his arms: it was familiar and safe. The problem was I was getting too emotionally close to him. And, with the surge always so unpredictable, that wasn't safe for either of us.

I forced myself to pull away. I needed answers right now, not safety. Paris cupped my cheek with his hand and my magick flared to life in response. It pushed against my skin with force, and this time my power refused to be quieted. I'd fought it off once today and I really didn't have the energy to do it again. The surge was becoming its own ent.i.ty and I didn't like it.

s.e.xual contact could sometimes take the place of a magickal release, and was usually safer. I put my arms around Paris' neck, pulling him down so I could kiss him. Paris stands five foot ten and I'm five foot seven, so he had to cooperate.

He slowly came close enough for me to lick his lips. He tasted like vanilla and smelled of musk. I felt my magick vibrating along his skin and knew to use caution. We searched each other's mouth with our tongues and teeth, but I wanted more. Paris wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed our bodies together. Things low inside me tightened - I wanted, almost craved his body.

"Logan, we shouldn't do this here," Paris said between kisses.

It wasn't just the surge now - I didn't want to stop. I raised myself and wrapped my legs around his waist. He had no choice but to hold my weight, but he could bench press a baby grand piano, so picking me up was effortless.

I felt him pressed hard against me and I pushed into him, making him moan. I ran my hands through his hair. It was so soft and thick - I loved the feel of it.

Then I realized I was being unfair to him and that made me pause for a moment.

My head throbbed as it had earlier in the van. I opened my eyes and looked at Paris. My vision grew dark, but not like, I was pa.s.sing out. Paris sat me down and I sank to my knees. In my mind's eye a vision formed. I saw Rafe. This time it was more than just being in the room, it was more like being in him. I took in the scent of his blood and sweat, feeling his pain. His face was bruised, one eye had swollen shut, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

What impressed me was his will, and his refusal to comply. Someone trussed him up like a Christmas goose and beat the s.h.i.+t out of him, and he still denied them what they wanted, whatever it was. The room was still too dark to see anything other than Rafe. A silver chain went around his neck, disappearing behind him, and if he moved too much he would choke himself. I could feel the constant burning wherever the chain touched his skin, as if it were on fire. The chain was real silver.

He was looking at someone but I couldn't see who it was in the darkness. He took a couple of blows to the face and lucky for me, I got to experience it too. The only thing I heard before the vision faded was a woman's voice.

"You will do as I wish." She had an accent but I couldn't place it.

When my sight came back, my face hurt like a b.i.t.c.h. I was lying on the hard stone floor, and the cold felt good against my face. I slowly turned my head to see Ronan, Alex, and Ailin standing around me. I glanced over to see Paris lying next to me, blinking as if trying to remember what happened.