Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(8)

Our kiss deepened as I slid my hands into his thick dark hair, yanking him closer in a desperate, drugging way. The flex of his fingers against my bare skin had moans spilling from my lips. “Come home with me tonight, Precious,” he breathed.

Goddess. “Will I be safe?”

He pulled back enough to shoot me a smile, and it was in no way reassuring. “Define safe?”

“Are you going to murder me tonight?”

That darkly angled smile grew. “Not tonight, sweetheart.”

I narrowed my eyes, sensing he’d used that particular pet name more than a few times thanks to James. Logan Kingston was a straight-up psychopath, so why the Hel was I so turned on?

“Wait here,” I said, wiggling until he released me back to my feet. “Don’t fucking move.”

His eyes narrowed, and I already knew he wasn’t a fan of being told what to do. Which was tough luck tonight.

I felt his hard gaze on me as I turned away to search for Sara, knowing I couldn’t leave without her.

Every instinct might have me wanting to climb that spellcaster like a fucking tree, but my friends would always come first.





Chapter 4




Sara was more than a little consumed with her drinks-buying warlock, and I had to tap her on the arm three times before she stopped trying to devour him.

“I’m thinking about taking off,” I said, staring into her flushed face. The warlock waited just behind her, pushing back strands of his dirty-blond hair. He wasn’t as tall or built as Logan, but he was still a big guy. “Ready to head out now?”

She shifted her gaze to him and shook her head. Lust all but dripped from her. “I think I’ll stay out for a few hours. Don’t wait up for me.”

I hesitated and turned to the warlock. “What’s your fucking name?”

To his credit, he didn’t snap back, just smiled as if I were amusing. “Alaric Holder. I’m part of your parents’ coven.”

He was? I’d never seen him in my life.

“Nice, Alaric. I’ll know where to find you to murder your ass if you hurt her. We clear?”

His amusement didn’t go anywhere. “Crystal clear. She’s safe with me.”

Words didn’t mean shit. “I’m going to need your phone number and to see some identification.”

He didn’t even hesitate as he pulled his phone from his pocket and produced a picture of his Blessed Souls admission certificate, along with rattling off his number, which I added to my phone.

“I’ll be fine,” Sara said with a chuckle, “but I love you for caring . . .”

She trailed off as her eyes went wide, focused behind me.

A blast of energy slid over my skin, and heat caressed my spine as I let out a sigh. “Thought I told you to keep your ass over there.”

Logan’s hand glided over my shoulder and wrapped possessively around the base of my throat. His hold didn’t hurt, but it was firm as he tilted my head back until I stared up into his face. “Looked like you needed my help,” he drawled.

This fucker was playing with me, because the situation was clearly well in hand.

“Logan Kingston . . .” Alaric dragged Sara closer and sidled himself in front of her—he was awfully protective for a warlock who’d met her not even an hour ago. “What are you doing here in Spokane?”

Was this asshole really that famous?

Logan didn’t remove his gaze from mine. “This is where my mate is, elemental. Where she is, is where I am.” He released me, and I felt oxygen flood my lungs, even though he hadn’t been holding me tight enough to restrict airflow.

“Mate!” Sara squeaked again, trying to nudge around Alaric.

Mate? What in the Hel?

The magical community rarely used that archaic term these days, preferring husband and wife, in the way of humans. Our ceremonies were done differently, but within the parameters of getting a marriage license.

But before we acclimated, we had mates.

Mates and mate bonds.

“What are you talki—”

He gripped my hips, spun me to face him, and lifted me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. One of his big hands wrapped around my ass to keep me from flashing the entire club. “She’ll see you tomorrow, Sara,” he said, striding off, my bag dangling down his back too. The crowd parted for him, recognizing the predator in their midst.

I heard Sara call after me. “You okay?”

“Yep,” I shouted back, having no idea if that was true.

Logan was about as safe as stumbling into a pack of wolves and hoping they wouldn’t eat you alive. But he’d told me that he’d explain our past, and with him throwing out the word mate, I needed those answers more than ever.

Outside, icy air hit my exposed skin, and I slapped at his shoulder. “Put me down, Logan. I can fucking walk.”

To my surprise, he set me on my feet, keeping hold of my hips until I was steady on my heeled boots. Thank the goddess I hadn’t had more than one witch wine; I needed my wits about me around Logan.

“Thank you,” I said, watching him to find his expression revealed nothing.

His eyes though . . .

They fucking burned.

Scorched me to the pavement and my hands trembled as I tucked them against my sides. Logan shrugged off his long wool coat and draped it over my shoulders.