Chapter 19

Forty-five minutes later,Sean and I were parked outside a small office building just east of downtown, reading online reviews of John West's investment company and news stories about his fire magic. Most of the comments on the stories were from local contractors who had used his services. A couple of fire departments had hired him to help manage some wildfires, and apparently he'd saved a lot of lives and property.

To hear the city's fire chief tell it, John West was a hero who'd fearlessly walked into a wildfire and controlled it so it could be contained. I did an Internet search for the incident and found news footage. Sean and I watched in stunned silence.

"I can see why you're keeping your distance on this one," Sean said after we'd seen the video twice. "Have you ever seen anyone control that much fire at once?"

"Yes." My grandfather could, not that he'd ever used it to help anyone. "But it's very rare. As much as I'd like to avoid him and anyone else in his harnad, if there is one, forewarned is forearmed. If I end up having to meet him, I don't want to go in blind."

"That is true, though in this case, I'm not sure how much good it might do you."

I stayed quiet and watched the video again.

On the way to West's office, I'd told Sean about my meeting with Charles and the vampire's demand for my blood. Though his hands tightened on the steering wheel until it creaked, his only comments were professional and neutral. I'd also told him who we thought West might be—a blood mage and member of a local harnad—but didn't mention the Kasten. If that was what was missing from Betty's library, and it was an object of power, the fewer people who were aware of its existence, the better, until Malcolm and I knew more about it.

Once the video ended, I read up more on West's bio while we waited. As five o'clock approached, lights started turning off in the various offices and people started pouring out of the building. I didn't see any sign of John West until ten after, when he suddenly came out the front door.

"That's him," I said to Sean.

Despite being in his seventies, West looked lean, like a runner, with silver hair brushed back from hard, blue eyes that reminded me of my grandfather's cold gaze. The fire mage scanned the parking lot as he walked briskly to a black BMW, laid his suit jacket carefully across the backseat, and climbed into the driver's seat.

Sean started his car and fell in behind him, keeping his distance as we battled rush-hour traffic on our way north of town. I knew West's house was on the east side, so I wondered where we were going. It was probably too much to hope that he was headed to a harnad meeting.

When he finally turned through the gates of the art museum, Sean asked, "What are we doing here?"

"No idea." I thought the museum normally closed at six, but the parking lot still had quite a few cars in it. West parked, put his suit jacket back on, and headed into the museum.

"He may be meeting somebody," Sean commented.

"Could be." I checked my wig in the mirror on the visor, unfastened my seat belt, and opened my door. Sean and I exited the car. I slung my bag over my shoulder, and we headed into the museum.

When we stepped inside, I scanned the enormous lobby and spotted West heading toward the auditorium. An easel beside the reception desk advertised a special presentation tonight by an art historian on the Italian High Renaissance.

"Are you here for the lecture?" the woman behind the desk asked us cheerfully.

West went into the auditorium, so it looked like we were. I paid for our admission, and Sean and I put museum stickers on our shirts.

When we got to the auditorium, I spotted John West holding a glass of wine and looking over a spread of hors d"oeuvres.

Sean and I went to the cash bar. He bought water for me and a beer for himself, and then we browsed the long table of bite-sized appetizers. Food and drinks in hand, we staked out a spot along the wall where I could keep an eye on West as Sean chatted about his day. West spoke to no one; unlike most of the other attendees, he stood off by himself, sipping his wine.

A few minutes before six, people started to move to the seats. We managed to snag the seats behind West. I put my bag and jacket in the seat next to mine. The auditorium was only about a third full, but I didn't want anyone sitting down next to us.

A museum employee came out, and I half listened as she welcomed everyone to the museum and said a few words about the evening's speaker, an art historian named Dr. Jacob Altman. I pictured a dusty old man with horn-rimmed glasses carrying an overflowing briefcase.

When the presenter came out, however, I was surprised that Dr. Altman was an enthusiastic young man with unruly hair and Converse sneakers. Instead of an old, battered briefcase, he carried a MacBook Pro that he connected at the lectern, and fired up a very modern PowerPoint.

As the art historian lectured us on the finer points of High Renaissance art, I watched John West. The older man seemed to be listening intently and taking notes in a small notebook. It was looking more and more like he was simply here to learn about a bunch of sixteenth-century painters I'd never heard of.

When the presentation was well underway and I was certain West's attention was focused on the lecture, I closed my eyes and concentrated on his magical energy as it buzzed against the edges of my senses. Slowly, I reached out with my mind.

White-hot fire screamed through the crack in my shields like a blowtorch through tissue paper. The sheer power of West's magic blazed through my brain in a shockwave that felt like it would take off the back of my skull. The energy level was nearly incomprehensible. My senses shut down, and my arms and legs went rigid with strain. I had to raise my shields or risk permanent damage.

It took an excruciatingly long time and every ounce of strength I had to raise my tattered shields and block him out.

When awareness returned, I realized I was half slumped in my chair and sweating profusely. I heard a strange sound I slowly recognized as applause; apparently, the presentation was over. I had no idea how much time had passed while I was semiconscious; it might have been as much as ten or fifteen minutes. The audience was filing out of the auditorium.

My entire body hurt as if all my nerve endings had been seared, but the agony was receding like a tide going out. As the fog lifted and my vision cleared, I became aware of a different kind of pain. Sean was gripping my right wrist tightly enough to bruise, and probably had been for a while, judging by the ache.

When I looked at him, his eyes shone gold. "Allie," he said roughly. "Tell me you can hear me."

I stared at him uncomprehendingly. I heard the words, but they weren't connecting with anything. I wondered if I'd shorted something out in my brain.

A blank stare wasn't the response Sean was looking for. As West finished collecting his belongings and stood, heading for the exit, Sean gripped my chin and leaned closer. His eyes glowed. "Alice," he said, and a little shiver of something ran down my spine. "Wake up and talk to me."

It felt like someone took their hand and brushed away the cobwebs. Somehow, though I wasn't a shifter, Sean had been able to use his alpha influence to help me recover. I shuddered and exhaled a long, shaky breath. As my straining muscles suddenly relaxed, I fell forward against his chest, making a pained noise when my nose hit his sternum.

Sean tipped my chin up to look me in the eyes as I rubbed my nose. "You with me now?"

"I'm with you." My voice still sounded a little thin, but at least I could think clearly.

"Give yourself a minute," Sean said. "West went into the men's room."

How he'd seen that with his focus on me, I had no idea, but I was grateful for the extra few minutes to clear my head and regain muscle control.

By the time West exited the bathroom, Sean and I were making our way toward the auditorium doors. My legs were wobbly, but I was walking on my own.

We followed West back out to the parking lot. "You doing okay?" Sean asked as we got in the car.

"I feel much better." I put my bag on the floor and buckled in.

West left the lot, heading east, and Sean followed at a distance. As he drove, I thought about what I'd felt. John West was, by far, the most powerful fire mage I had ever encountered, and that was saying something. West made my grandfather's fire magic feel like a birthday candle by comparison. Perhaps more chilling, West's blood magic would likely be as strong or stronger than his fire magic. I thought of what my grandfather could do with his fire magic, and then imagined someone stronger, and with high-level blood magic too. I felt nauseous.

I knew what I wanted to know about West's magic, but it wasn't going to help me sleep any easier.

West drove back to his house. After a brief debate, I opted not to stay and watch his house, having no real reason to right now, other than my curiosity about his harnad. We headed home.

When we arrived, Sean pulled into my driveway and parked. Before he could say anything, I said, "I know you said you wanted to go out to dinner, but how would you feel about just ordering a pizza and maybe watching a movie here? I know my TV isn't as big as yours, but we could stream something."

"I was hoping to take you out to this great steakhouse I like, and then maybe for a walk down by the…." Sean trailed off, reading my expression. "What are you thinking when you get that look in your eyes?"

I wasn't sure what look he was referring to, but what I was thinking was that I'd never been on a real, formal date—not the kind he was describing. I hadn't been picked up and taken to dinner, or for a romantic walk. It would be difficult, or impossible, to explain why something so seemingly innocuous felt so terrifying. I tried to figure out what to say.

"Hey." Sean smiled and leaned over to kiss me. "It would be very much okay to order a pizza and watch a movie," he told me when we broke apart. "I can't think of anything I'd rather do."

Sean grabbed his go-bag out of the trunk while I lowered the house wards, unlocked the door, and went inside. I put my stuff down by the door and went around turning on lights while he changed into casual clothes in the downstairs bathroom. I grew puzzled when I sensed Malcolm wasn't in the house, but remembered his comment about going to Natalie's in case Sean and I needed privacy. I smiled to myself.

Once Sean changed into jeans and a vintage Allman Brothers T-shirt, we ordered our pizza, and then I showed him around the house. He was impressed with the renovations I'd designed. We talked home remodeling for a bit, until our tour took us to the door to the basement.

I paused a few feet from the threshold. I'd never let anyone but Malcolm into my basement, but for some reason, I wanted to show it to Sean. "The basement is my library and spellwork area. Don't ever let anyone touch the door or try to go into the basement without me. The wards could kill them. At the very least, they'd be incapacitated."

"Understood."

I drew a series of four runes on the doorframe. "What was that?" Sean asked.

"Think of it like a security code. Give me your hand."

After a moment's hesitation, Sean reached out. I took his hand in mine, placed my index finger along his, and touched the doorframe. Sean twitched when the wards gave him a little zap. "It's tasting you," I murmured, and I traced two more runes on the doorway with our fingers.

A frisson of magic ran through us, and Sean sucked in a breath. "Wow."

"The wards know you as a friend now." I released his hand and reached for the doorknob. "It will be uncomfortable to cross the threshold, but you won't get knocked out. I'd say brace yourself, but it won't be as bad as when you broke through Natalie's house wards."

"That hurt," Sean said.

I laughed. "Yeah, I bet. We've both been on the wrong end of some wards lately." I flipped on the basement lights and breathed deeply as I pushed through the invisible wall of magic to start down the stairs ahead of Sean. Behind me, Sean grunted, but he didn't falter or stagger. Either werewolf strength or werewolf pride, or a combination of both, I thought.

When he was through, I led him down the steps. At the bottom, he stopped and looked around the basement, taking it all in.

I spread my arms out. "Welcome to my lair, Mr. Maclin."

He stayed on the stair landing. "What's safe down here and what's not?"

"That's a smart question to ask. When dealing with mages and their private spaces, it's always a good idea to assume there are spells all around. In this case, you have been designated an official ‘friendly' presence, so most of the spells and wards in here will be uncomfortable but not harmful to you."

"Most, huh?" Sean looked like a man standing in the middle of a minefield. "So what shouldn't I touch?"

I pointed to the storage cabinets. "The last two cabinets on the left have black wards. If you touch them, they will kill you."

Sean stared at me.

"The rest of the cabinets are safe to you, but like the threshold upstairs, it will be uncomfortable."

He looked like he was still processing the fact there were spells in the room that would kill someone. I could only imagine what his reaction would be if he knew what the basement's perimeter wards were capable of doing.

He cleared his throat. "Should I even ask what's in those cabinets on the left?"

"Dangerous magic stuff."

"‘Dangerous magic stuff,'" Sean repeated. "Okay. The security consultant in me wonders if the contents are explosive."

I shrugged. "Not particularly, but all magic is volatile, even earth and air magic."

"Other than the fire in the bottle you made the other day, I haven't really gotten to see much of your magic." He started to lean against the wall, but the sizzle of the wards made him move away. "I feel like a kid asking this, but is there anything you can show me?"

I grinned. "Show and tell? I can do that. Come with me." I walked to the circles on the floor. Cautiously, he followed me. "Stand in the center circle." He stepped into it and I stood outside it.

"What are you going to do?"

I winked. "It's a surprise. Don't worry; you're perfectly safe in there." I closed both his circle and mine and they blazed with energy.

He jerked. "I can feel it."

"Good. Now watch." I raised my hands in front of me. They erupted in bright green fire.

He made a startled sound. "Are you all right?"

"Of course." I turned my hands and moved closer so he could see the flames caressing my skin but not burning me. "Cold fire. Earth magic." I drew the fire slowly up my arms and let it spread over my upper body. It took focus because I hadn't done this in a while, but I knew it looked incredible. I didn't get much opportunity to show off my fancy tricks. The bright green fire danced along my arms.

"That's beautiful," Sean breathed, watching the fire move. "How much control do you have over it?"

In answer, I pulled the fire back to my right hand, then flicked my wrist. The fire became a short rope about five feet long. The rope coiled through the air, the flames dancing. I twirled it over my head, cowgirl style, and it snapped out in front of me like a whip before coiling back into my hand.

Sean applauded. I laughed and pulled the fire back down to the tip of my right index finger. I blew on my finger and the fire went out, only to flare up on my left hand as if I'd blown it there.

It was a corny trick, but Sean grinned. I broke his circle with my hand. "Come here." He walked up close to me. "Hold out your index finger."

He held up his left—not his right, I noticed, which would have been his trigger finger. I murmured an invocation and traced a spell in the air. "Don't move." I touched my finger to his.

His eyes widened as the green flame spread to the tip of his index finger. "It's cold," he said in wonder.

I drew my hand back, and a small green flame continued to burn on his finger.

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to put this out?"

"Nope, but you can. Blow on it."

He looked at me.

"Blow on it," I repeated.

He blew, and the flame went out.

"Now, focus on your finger, envision the flame, snap your thumb and index finger together, and say, ‘Frio.'"

Sean awkwardly snapped his fingers. "Frio." The tip of his index finger burst into green flame. "Whoa." He stared at his hand.

I watched him admire the tiny flame. "It's a simple spell. I can take it off, or it will fade by itself in about a week."

He blew on his finger and the flame went out, then he brought it back. "Holy shit, this is awesome." He blew out the flame.

I laughed. "I guess I'll just leave it, then. But remember: always use your powers for good. Now for the big finale." I closed his circle, isolating him inside, and my hands flamed up again.

This time, as I held on to my earth magic for the fire, I brought up my air magic. An impossible breeze came up, blowing my hair back from my face. I continued to draw on the air magic until it whipped around the inner circle where I stood, contained on the inside by Sean's circle and on the outside by mine.

He watched the wind blowing my hair as the green flames on my hands danced. "Incredible."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet. Stay in your circle." Showtime.

I took a deep breath, exhaled, and my entire body went up in green flame.

"Allie!" he shouted, fear in his voice.

"I'm all right." I held my arms out to feel the wind on my body. Then, as the wind whipped around me furiously, I opened the valve and poured green fire from every square inch of my body.

In an instant, the circle where I stood became an inferno of cold fire. Blown by the wind, the firestorm raged in my circle while Sean stood safe in the eye of a hurricane. His mouth hung open.

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes and let the fire and air pour out of me. Like I'd told Natalie, using magic felt wonderful, like that first stretch when you wake up in the morning. There was a great pleasure to using magic, if you stayed the hell away from the cabals and were able to use it to help instead of harm.

Letting the magic flow out of me felt so good, I could have stood like that for a long time, but I remembered Sean was watching and waiting. I opened my eyes.

He was up next to the barrier of the inner circle, as close as he could get to me and my firestorm. His expression was a combination of awe, admiration, and something else I couldn't quite interpret, but that might have been hunger, and not for food.

"Do you trust me?" I asked him.

He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

I murmured an invocation, reached out, and grabbed his hand. The inner circle fell, and the inferno raged around us as I held his hand in mine, his body protected by a spell. He stood frozen as his brain struggled to process that he was standing, unhurt, in the middle of a firestorm that felt cold instead of hot.

I drew him to me and kissed him. The hunger I'd seen in his eyes was in his kiss. It took my breath away.

While my lips were pressed to his, I pulled both my air and earth magic back into myself. The wind began to fade, and the fire dwindled. By the time the kiss ended, the flames were gone, and the air was still.

Sean touched his forehead to mine. He was breathing heavily, but I was calmer than I'd been in days. I felt purified.

"Good enough for show and tell?" I teased.

"Holy shit, yes." He wrapped me in his arms.

I rested my head against his chest. "Next time, I'll do something really cool."

His laugh filled the basement.

The pizza arrived not long after we went back upstairs. I let Sean flip through my vinyl collection while I got napkins and beers and set up our dinner on the coffee table in the living room.

As I sat on the couch to take off my boots, he fired up the turntable and I heard a familiar sound like a heartbeat. I grinned. "Excellent choice."

"Just when I thought the evening couldn't get any better, I find out you've got Dark Side of the Moon on vinyl," Sean said, dropping onto the sofa and grabbing a piece of pizza. "If you've got The Wizard of Oz, we're in business."

"I thought that was an urban legend."

"It's not. They really do sync."

We ate pizza and drank our beers and listened to Pink Floyd. I ate two slices and lay down on the couch with my head in Sean's lap while he "wolfed" down the rest of the pizza. When the first side of the record ran out, we were both too comfortable and full of pizza to get up and flip it over. Sean ran his fingers through my hair, gently working out the tangles from the windstorm downstairs. I closed my eyes and relaxed.

After a while, he asked, "Where do things stand with your case?"

"I've eliminated all the known suspects again." I told him about Malcolm's masking spell detector and our visits to Natalie's family earlier in the day. "What West's involvement is, I'm not sure, but finding out more about him and this harnad he was supposedly in with Betty is probably the next step."

I didn't have to see his face to know the idea wasn't making him happy, but he didn't object. Instead, he said, "Thanks for including me in today's adventures."

"I'm not sure anything we did today could be categorized as ‘adventures.'" I shifted on the couch and looked up at him. "But there's still time to make things interesting."

His eyes glinted. "What did you have in mind?"

"For starters, how about this?" I rolled to my feet, then straddled his lap. His hands gripped my hips as I kissed him, then bit his lower lip. He growled.

I moved my lips across his jaw to his ear, tracing its contours with the tip of my tongue before plunging it inside. He jerked like I'd shocked him and growled again. I bit his earlobe and he groaned. "Allie."

I went back to kissing him, feeling the hard length of him between us as I moved against him. Sean ran his hands up under my shirt and over my ribs to cup my breasts. I gasped when his thumbs stroked my nipples through my bra.

I pulled my shirt off over my head and took his face in my hands.

His eyes glowed like golden lanterns. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," I told him.

He made a snarly noise, and suddenly my bra tore in half and his mouth was on me. "Hey," I said weakly.

"I'll buy you another one," he growled, then bit down. I cried out and dug my nails into his shoulders, my head falling back.

I heard him whisper something as he snapped his fingers, and when I looked back, he was tracing a line down my breastbone with the tiny, cold flame on his finger. I whimpered as the cold, tingly sensation shot through me like an arrow.

Sean held up his spelled finger. "This has possibilities," he mused.

I blew out the flame and reached for his belt. "You're overdressed."

Sean stood, his hands under my butt. "Put your legs around my waist," he instructed me. "We're going upstairs."

I locked my ankles behind his back and kissed him as he carried me upstairs. When we got to my room, he tossed me carefully onto the bed. I raised myself up on my elbows to watch as he took off his T-shirt and shoes. He reached for his belt.

"Come here," I ordered.

To my surprise, he obeyed. I undid his belt, then unfastened and unzipped his pants. His breathing sped up as I pushed his jeans and boxers down to free him.

Sean sucked in a breath when I wrapped my hand around him and stroked gently. I leaned forward and took him into my mouth. He groaned as I moved in a steady rhythm that made him fight for control.

Soon, Sean was breathing heavy, and his fingers dug into my shoulders. "Stop, stop," he said roughly, and I released him from my mouth. "Clothes off."

I stood and took off my socks, then slid my jeans and underwear off as one. I reached into my nightstand drawer for a condom, tossed it on the bed, and looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "Why aren't you naked?"

In a second, Sean was out of his jeans and boxers. With a throaty growl, he leaped and took me down onto the bed, his mouth on mine. I hooked my leg around his hip and arched up against his body in a blatant demand that made him chuckle.

Instead of unwrapping the condom, he pushed my leg to the side and reached down between us. I writhed underneath him and bit his shoulder. He kissed me again, muffling my cries with his mouth. I started to shudder.

"That's it," he murmured against my lips. "Come for me, Allie."

I was vaguely aware of my own voice calling his name as everything fractured around me in a wave of intense pleasure. A moment later, I heard the condom packet tear. In a single movement, he grabbed my hip, sank his teeth into the flesh of my shoulder, and thrust into me.

I threw my head back and screamed. He buried his face in my neck as he moved. I dug my nails into his back as he adjusted his angle and speed, driving me back toward the edge.

He rose above me, his eyes bright gold, predatory and hungry, beautiful and dangerous. "Allie," he growled. "Release your magic."

I intended to, but first, I wanted more than merely physical intimacy. I closed my eyes and dropped my shields, focusing on Sean.

Suddenly, my mind filled with images, smells, and sounds. I saw flashes of moonlight, of teeth and fur, trees and a grassy field, and smelled forest and earth. I heard a howl so beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes.

Then I saw myself, my head thrown back and eyes closed, gasping for air, the sheen of sweat on my skin, and I knew I was seeing through Sean's eyes, and feeling what he felt. Our combined pleasure was so intense, I thought I would black out.

Everything came apart in a rush. Sean's movements caught the crest of my bliss and stoked it higher. My magic tore free in a burst that felt far stronger than when we'd been together before. Once again, I heard things crashing in my room. I opened my eyes and saw the green-and-white hurricane was infused with golden, primal shifter magic, Sean's power mixed with my own.

Our magic rolled through us in a wave. Above me, Sean groaned and began to shudder. I cried out as he made a sound that was part shout, part howl, and collapsed on top of me. My inner muscles twitched around him, and he jerked and snarled.

"Did you just growl at me?" I asked, reaching up to push sweaty hair back from his forehead.

"Maybe." He rolled on to his side and pulled me tightly against him. "Are you all right?"

I felt so much better than all right. "Yes," I replied breathlessly.

My shoulder stung. I reached up to touch it, and my fingers came away smeared with red.

Sean froze. "I hurt you."

I kissed him, tugging gently on his lip with my teeth. "It's all right. I like a little pain with my pleasure."

He looked stunned. "I've never done that before. I'm sorry."

"I bit you first," I pointed out, kissing the mark my teeth had left on his shoulder. "You were just returning the favor."

"I shouldn't have—"

"Sean, shut up."

He shut up.

A few minutes later, I said, "Was this how you were hoping the evening would go?"

He nuzzled my hair. "I'd be lying if I said no, but for the record, I really did want to take you to dinner, and for a walk along the riverfront, and maybe for some ice cream, first."

This man thought I was worth taking to dinner and out for ice cream. I felt a stab of disbelief mixed with wonder. "Maybe next time."

He jerked, pulling back from me.

"What?"

He looked confused. "I thought…." He shook his head as if to clear it and pulled me close again.

"So there will be a next time?" he asked finally.

"I'd like there to be a next time."

"So would I." He ran his fingers over my hip, tracing the line of tattooed stars that ran from my upper left thigh to my rib cage. "Speaking of which…."

My eyes widened.

Some wonderful time later, Sean held me close as I lay on top of him and we gasped for air.

"I need you so much, I can't even think," he said, his lips against my ear. "I can't get enough of you, and it's making me crazy."

"We can be crazy together," I told him. "It's more fun that way."