Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | The Witch′s Initiation

The Witch's Initiation
Elle James


Possessed by desire… Undercover cop Cal Black has never encountered the paranormal…until now. His mission is simple: to investigate the disappearance of a sorority girl from a private college. But there are two complications: the girl’s a witch and her sister is the enchantress who broke his heart.Deme Chattox isn’t looking for a man. Especially a bad boy like Cal, even though every inch of her body remembers the magic of his touch, but she’s determined to find her little sister without Cal’s expertise. That is, until they unearth terrifying secrets buried deep in the underground that threaten to destroy her.










Damn! Why him? Why now? Deme thought as he headed straight for her.

A familiar heat flashed over her, filling her chest and crawling up her neck into her cheeks. Worse still, the heat raged south into her belly and lower, sending searing liquid flames into places that hadn’t been lit in a long time. Not since the last time she’d seen him.

As his boots ate the distance, a slight smile tipped the corners of his lips, as though he knew the secret and he was going to enjoy every bit of it.

When he stopped in front of her chair, he held out a hand.

Deme stared at it a moment, her mind refusing to engage, her voice choked in her throat. Without even thinking through it, she laid her hand in his.

Instead of shaking it, he yanked her to her feet and into his arms.


Dear Reader,

Five ordinary witches are drawn into an extraordinary struggle when they converge on a small college campus in the heart of old Chicago. The youngest sister has disappeared during her sorority initiation and it’s up to the others to find her.

This story gave me chills as I wrote it, knowing my youngest was headed off to college. When she said she wanted to join a sorority, I bit my lip and gnashed my teeth, wanting to tell her no. After the wicked things my characters experienced in the book—even knowing everything I wrote was fictitious—it made me wonder what my daughter’s initiation would be like. Would she find herself in a group of desperately vain girls? Or would she find a home with sisters to cheer her on and come to her rescue when the chips were down?

Luckily my little girl found a group of sisters who are sharing her joys and triumphs, and helping her through her troubles.

Join the Chattox sisters as they fight against evil, their own insecurities and their malfunctioning talents to save their sister from the lord of the underworld.

To find out more about my writing, visit my website at www.ellejames.com.

Elle James




About the Author


A Golden Heart Award winner for Best Paranormal Romance in 2004, ELLE JAMES started writing when her sister issued a Y2K challenge to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job and raised three wonderful children, and she and her husband even tried their hands at ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas) in the Texas Hill Country. Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bird! After leaving her successful career in information technology management, Elle is now pursuing her writing full-time. Elle loves to hear from fans. You can contact her at ellejames@earthlink.net or visit her website at www.ellejames.com.




The Witch’s Initiation


Elle James






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To my sister, who is my greatest cheerleader, who always has my back and who challenged me to take the journey on this exciting road to publication. Sisters rule!




Chapter 1


Movement in the shadows caught her attention.

Aurai Chattox strained to see what lurked in the dark. It wasn’t something or someone hiding, but wispy shapes growing and creeping steadily closer to the circle of girls gathered around the candles. Had someone lit a smoke bomb? Were there girls or guys hiding among the rosebushes producing the special effects for this weird show?

When she sniffed, all she smelled was the scent of pine and roses and something she couldn’t quite define. A pungent, decayed smell, almost imperceptible, buried beneath that of the more powerful aromas of the roses and natural vegetation.

As the dark, shadowy tendrils drifted closer, goose bumps rose on Aurai’s skin. She fingered the pentagram at her neck and closed her eyes, drawing on the forces within, the strength of her sisters, the knowledge of the light and her own inner connection with the air, the wind and atmospheric conditions.

She’d made a promise to herself not to use her craft. She wanted to stand on her own as a mortal, not a witch. But something stirred deep inside—call it premonition, call it a portent of evil. If she gave it a nudge, perhaps it would go away.

Aurai lifted her hands by her sides, just enough to stir the air around her. Just a little, not enough to scare the other sorority initiates standing in the circle, their eyes wide, bodies trembling. But maybe enough to dispel the shadowy mist creeping in around them.

A light breeze blew in from the west.

When the West wind blows o’er thee, departed spirits restless be.

A tremor shook Aurai from neck to knees as the breeze kicked up, lifting the tendrils of her hair around her face. Softly, at first, tickling her skin with the strands like the gentle touch of a lover’s hand. The stroke was deceptively soothing, and Aurai opened her eyes. Her hood slipped backward, exposing her head to the night air.

Wind was her friend, her lover, her power, the one force within that always gave her comfort and foretold of change to come. Until now.

The gentle breeze intensified, mixing with the inky shadows to lift her hair away from her scalp, slapping it against her face. White-blond locks acted as whips stinging her open eyes.

She squinted against the onslaught and raised her hands to block the battering strands.

Tall pines, which a moment before had stood stately and stoic at the four corners of the garden, swayed like erotic lovers in the throes of passion, twisting and undulating like naked bodies.

Something was terribly wrong.

Her gift of wind should have been a gentle influence to cleanse the air of the encroaching black shadows around the circle of pledges. Instead, it became a force unto itself, gaining in power and magnitude until the girls fought to remain standing.

Her roommate, Rachel, dropped to her knees, blocking her face against flying debris. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Aurai called out. Branches broke from the trees and pummeled the small gathering of females, drawing blood, scraping and bruising delicate skin.

Thorny rose stems tore at her legs and battered her face and neck. Aurai closed her eyes again, feeling for the ornate pentagram at her neck. The solid piece of silver given to her by her mother. Each of her sisters had a matching pendant, blessed with a protection spell. She called on the spell now.

Unwanted spirits I call thee

I call thee into the light

Guardian spirits I call thee

I call thee to the fight

The spell had no effect on the wind raging around her. The black, inky shadows swept in, twisting her cape around her body until she couldn’t move.

“Aurai!” Rachel reached out to her. “Aurai!”

Aurai tried to lift her hand to capture Rachel’s, but both arms were trapped at her sides, her cape plastered to her limbs and body like a mummy’s death shroud.

Her feet left the ground and her body twirled through the air, faster and faster, caught in a funnel of leaves, rose petals, thorny branches and black, shadowy fingers.

For a moment, Aurai thought she saw the face of a man in the swirling, black wind. The face transformed into a hideous creature with two heads, one with the teeth of a raging lion. Both heads had the soulless, black gaping eyes of a demon.

As the force lifted her above the girls’ heads, she gripped her pentagram and cried out, “Sisters, come to me!”

The world spun in a vacuum, lifting her higher still. Then the bottom dropped out of the dark cloud, the earth opened and the wind sucked her down, into a black abyss deep below the surface of the mossy garden soil.




Chapter 2


Sisters, come to me!

Deme Chattox’s hands shook as she held the paper cup of green tea, letting the warmth permeate her skin. She’d been chilled since arriving in Chicago. Having left her cushy private investigative business in the balmy breezes of St. Croix and flying overnight to get here, she hadn’t had a chance to acclimate. Hell, she hadn’t had a chance to breathe.

A nit in the scheme of things, considering her baby sister was missing. Deme could stand to be a little cold. She could only guess at the horrors Aurai faced. For her sister to reach out in the middle of the night and across great distances with enough force to knock Deme out of her bed, she had to be in serious trouble.

She downed the last of the tea and crushed the cup between her fingers. Deme and her sisters would find her if it was the last thing they did. She just hoped they found her before anything really bad happened to the youngest sister of the five of them. For now, her heart told her that her little sister was still alive.

Now where the hell was that detective?

She glanced around the student commons, searching every face for the one that looked most like an undercover cop. Her sister Brigid had given the detective a description of Deme, but she didn’t have a name or description of him, and he was already ten minutes late.

The girls at the table next to her leaned close, their expressions nervous. “Did they find her yet?” one asked.

Deme blocked out the extraneous noises of the large cafeteria-style room in order to hear every word spoken by the college girls. That’s why she’d come to this campus as a nontraditional student. Not because she wanted to improve her lot in life through a college degree. She already had a BS, an MS and a private investigator license. She’d enrolled as one of the students only to get inside and learn the truth about her sister’s disappearance.

“No, they haven’t found her,” a blonde responded, her blue gaze darting around the nearby tables, briefly pausing on Deme.

Deme’s attention remained on the entrance as she used her peripheral vision to study the girls beside her.

The blonde’s glance moved on. “I bet the Gamma Omegas know what happened to her. Hell, they probably kidnapped her as part of the hazing.”

A brunette snorted. “I don’t think any of them are smart enough to get away with it.”

The group of six giggled, their fingers pressed to their lips, their glances taking in the room.

The blonde sipped from her soda before asking, “Did the police interview you yesterday?”

“No,” the brunette answered. “What about you?”

“No. They seem to be concentrating on the staff and the sorority. I hear the G.O.s were performing their initiation ceremony in the garden when the girl disappeared. I mean, like really, how can you lose a fully grown college student in a garden? That’s just random, if you ask me.”

Deme wondered the same, and then her attention was distracted by a gray-haired man stepping through the glass entrance doors. He could be a college professor…or maybe an undercover detective.

With the patience of a Yorkshire terrier dying to be unleashed, Deme tapped her plastic spoon on the laminate tabletop. The man stopped at the coffee urn, filled a cup, paid and weaved his way through the tables. He didn’t stop until he came to a table in the far corner by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a garden. He never once looked her way.

Damn. Either he wasn’t her detective or he was playing hard to get. A man like that would fit right in. No one would ever suspect a guy who looked the image of a college professor of being an undercover cop.

For several long moments, Deme stared at the man by the window. She cleared her mind and focused on him, trying to read into his thoughts. Her sister Selene was much better at reading minds than she was. It wasn’t Deme’s talent. Give her dirt and plants, and she could whip up a tempting spell with her knack for all things relating to the goddess of earth. Reading minds? Nah. Not her bailiwick. Still, who was he and what was he doing here? Did he have anything to do with her sister?

The man stopped sipping his coffee, a frown pressing his silvery-gray brows together. Was he feeling her probe?

Excited that maybe for once her mind probing might work, Deme concentrated harder. Who are you? Did you take my sister? Who are you?

A thin, bookish, young man carrying a tray with coffee and a Danish passed by, stopped and spoke to the professor. At first it all looked like any student stopping to say a word to his instructor. Until the gray-haired man lurched to his feet and shoved the younger man’s tray into his chest, toppling the coffee cup. The boy yelled and dropped the tray, pulling his sweater away from his chest, cursing as scalding liquid burned his skin.

The older man hurried from the room, pushing people out of his way as he went.

Deme half stood, torn between helping the guy with the soaked sweater and chasing after the man who’d blown a gasket. A student commons worker beat her to the younger man with a handful of napkins. Meanwhile, the gray-haired gentleman had already left.

She sank into her chair and stared through the glass doors at the back of the retreating professor. What the hell was that all about?

The young man walked by her table talking to the employee, his brow wrinkled in a frown. “I don’t know what set him off. All I said was ‘How’s it going?’ Then he yelled, ‘No, I didn’t, and none of your effing business’ and slammed my tray into me.” He lifted his sweater away from his skin and flapped it. “That coffee was hot.”

“Wonder what came over Professor Dane. He’s never blown up like that before.”

“It’s like he was possessed or something. Did you see his face? Even his eyes didn’t look right.”

They moved out of range and Deme sat back in her seat. Was the gray-haired Professor Dane feeling the pressure of a missing student? Was he responsible for Aurai’s disappearance? Had Deme’s probing pushed him over the edge?

She’d never been successful at probing before, so why should it work now? And why in such a way as to cause a violent reaction?

Her chest tightened. Not known for her patience, Deme could feel the blood boiling inside her. She wanted to follow the professor and shake the truth out of him. If Brigid hadn’t insisted on this detective, who came highly recommended by the Chicago police as the best undercover operative on the force, Deme wouldn’t have waited ten minutes past their scheduled time for him. She could have conducted her own search and interviews. She had shoved her chair back and leaned forward to stand when the glass doors opened again.

Deme sat back in her chair, her mouth falling open.

No way.

He strode in as if he owned the place. Every female gaze riveted on his incredibly broad shoulders encased in a black leather jacket. Black jeans caressed his thick, muscled thighs and tight ass, moving with him like a second skin.

His black hair hung to his shoulders in loose waves, and he carried a helmet in one hand. Pausing for a moment, he removed sunglasses and stared around the room.

Deme held her breath. When rich, brown eyes collided with hers, her heart skipped several beats then made up for the loss by hammering a staccato against her ribs. She’d never reacted to a man so instantly or with such impact. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, and then every nerve ending lit up like the Fourth of July.

No way.

No way this biker bad boy could play an undercover role at a school. The Chicago police might as well have hung a red flag on him, announcing him as the superhero who would magically reveal the location of their missing sister by waving his incredible magnetism around a room full of women.

He set out across the floor headed straight for her.

A familiar heat flashed over her, filling her chest and crawling up her neck into her cheeks. Worse still, the heat raged south into her belly and lower, sending searing liquid flames into places that hadn’t been lit in a long time. Not since the last time she’d seen him.

Damn! Why him? Why now?

As his boots ate the distance, a slight smile tipped the corner of his lips, as though he knew the secret and he was going to enjoy every bit of it.

When he stopped in front of her chair, he held out a hand.

Deme stared at it a moment, her mind refusing to engage, her voice completely choked in her throat. She’d never been this off balance in the presence of a man, no matter how good-looking, except this one. The intensity consumed her. Without even thinking it through, she dropped the mutilated cup on the table and laid her hand in his.

Instead of shaking it, he yanked her to her feet and into his arms.

As her chest crashed into his, shock and the whoosh of air escaping her lungs kept her from crying out. Her lips parted in a gasp just in time for his to descend and claim them.

One hand cupped her ass and pulled her pelvis against the natural bulge behind his zipper. The other circled her neck and threaded through her long, auburn hair.

Firm, sensuous lips plundered her startled ones, his tongue delving deep, pushing past her teeth to taste her and drink his fill.

Where their bodies touched, her skin was on fire. Deme squirmed, constrained by the clothing she wore, longing for her naked skin to melt into his.

Long, loud sighs from the young girls at the table beside her brought Deme out of the trance the man’s sheer allure had thrown her into. She pulled back, fighting to mask the shock in her eyes. How could she have fallen into his arms—his kiss—without so much as a mew of protest? What had come over her? She never acted so mindlessly. She’d fallen for this macho bullshit before, and what had it bought her?

Heartburn and heartache.

The blue-eyed blonde coed sighed again. “I wish someone would kiss me like that.”

“Hi, sweetheart.” The man caressed the back of Deme’s neck again before he dragged his fingers over her shoulder and downward to capture her hand in his.

Deme tried to pull free, struggling to come up with words to voice her anger at his flagrant attack on her senses. Anger at herself for responding so willingly. By the goddess, she was here to save her sister, not to crawl into a man’s skin.

“Want to find a quieter spot?” His look was like liquid chocolate, melting into her pores. With a flick of his eyes, he indicated the girls drooling at the table next to them. More sighs rose from the hormonal young ladies.

“The table by the window.” Deme cringed. Was that her voice, that reedy squeak?

Without releasing her hand, he led her to the table at the far corner of the student commons with a lovely view of a rose garden. A table near to where the professor had exploded in a fit of rage.

As she walked like a docile dog behind him, Deme let the anger build. Righteous anger beat mindless lust any day of the week. She’d been in one too many relationships where a man had tried to take charge of her life. Okay, so only one doomed relationship—the relationship she’d had with this man. Besides, her purpose for being at Colyer-Fenton was to find her missing sister, not get all weak in the knees over a cop too sexy to blend in.

With his empty hand, he pulled out a seat and dragged her into it.

Deme sat down hard, her lips drawn into a tight line.

He leaned over her, pressing his lips to her ear. “Try to look a little less like you swallowed a lemon.” Then he slid his mouth down her jawline and claimed hers in a brief kiss.

Rendered speechless yet again, Deme sat with her mouth open and nothing coming out. How’d he do that?

He pulled out a chair, flipped it around and straddled it like a Harley, his brows hiked into the hair dangling like temptation over his forehead. “Deme Chattox. You never did tell me what Deme means. We can talk about that later. We have business to discuss.” He lifted one of her hands and threaded his fingers through hers.

With her lips still tingling from his kiss and the warmth of his fingers on hers stirring up those old feelings of lust all over again, Deme finally pulled herself together. Yanking her hand free, she hid it in her lap.

She leaned forward, her head turned away from the others in the union still watching them. “Is this a joke?” She stared around the room, hoping she’d find some sadistic huckster ready to spring out and tell her she’d been punked. When no one did, she sat on her hands to keep them from shaking in front of him…Cal Black, her former fiancé, lover and her own personal nemesis. “How the hell did you end up on this case?”

He smiled, the act an unaffected thing of beauty. His dark chocolate eyes twinkled and his full, kissable lips stretched over straight, white teeth, a stark contrast to his coal-black hair. She’d fallen for that look once before. “You’re my cover, sweetheart.” He ran his fingers down her cheek and touched a finger to her swollen lips. “To you, I’m the detective the Chicago police assigned to this case. But to everyone else, I’m your boyfriend until we find your sister.”

Cal almost laughed out loud as Deme Chattox’s mouth opened then closed before she gathered enough steam to blast him. He had his cover as a maintenance man nailed shut, having spent the past half hour with the Human Resources Department of the small college, charming everyone from the secretary to the woman who ultimately hired him. She’d explained it was only a temporary position until they could find another, more permanent replacement for their previous maintenance man.

He’d asked what happened to the man, but no one knew. He didn’t show up for work three weeks ago and hadn’t been back. No call, no resignation. Just disappeared. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a worried family calling to report him missing.

Cal didn’t like that. That made two disappearances in the past three weeks from the same campus. He didn’t believe in coincidence and placed a call to Martin Warner, the detective in charge of the case back at headquarters. Was the missing maintenance man responsible for Aurai Chattox’s disappearance? If not, was the same perp responsible for both the missing persons?

Now, sitting across the table from Deme Chattox, he drank his fill of the woman who’d managed to turn his world upside down in just the four short weeks they’d known each other. He hadn’t even realized she had sisters. She’d never told him. Apparently Deme was the oldest of the Chattox sisters. He wondered if Aurai was anywhere near as beautiful. It was hard to tell from the photograph he’d been given.

Deme’s long, auburn hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders and all the way down to her waist. A man could get lost in all that glorious hair. Her deep green eyes sparkled in the fluorescent lights. Lights that normally made everyone else look ill made her pale skin seem only more ethereal. Beautiful women were natural targets for demented kidnappers and killers. “You don’t look anything like your sister, do you?”

“Not even close.” She pushed her hair behind her ear and sat up straighter. “I’m the redheaded Amazon of the family. Aurai’s the pale blonde, petite sister.” Her brows furrowed. “Now what’s this about being my boyfriend? I don’t need a boyfriend.”

His lips pressed together in a thin line. “Maybe not to you and me, but for everyone else on campus we need to be convincing.” He tipped his head up. “Come here and give me a kiss.”

Deme shook her head. “I can’t work with you. I work alone.” She leaned over the table toward him, the swell of her breasts visible above the figure-hugging, low-cut sweater she wore.

As if a hand had reached out and cranked up the thermostat, the air in the room heated. Cal resisted the urge to tug at his black T-shirt or shrug out of his jacket. As perspiration eased from his skin and his pants tightened uncomfortably, he frowned. He was not getting bothered by this woman with enough attitude to overwhelm most men, no matter how sexy she was in that skin-tight sweater.

He made it a strict habit to separate business from pleasure. No matter how pleasurable he had found her in the past. Despite the warnings going off in his head to refuse the assignment and run the other direction, Cal couldn’t stop his body’s reaction to her nearness. Certain parts refused to forget what it felt like to lie naked against her, to bury himself deep inside her warmth. “I need a cover so that we can talk and not raise suspicion. If you want my help finding your sister, you’re stuck with me as a boyfriend.”

She opened her mouth and closed it before words could spew forth. Then she leaned across the wooden tabletop and rested her hand on his, squeezing harder than typical for a lover’s affectionate grip. “Understand this. I’m only tolerating you because I want to find my sister. So, don’t get in my way.” She tipped her head to the side and gave him a saccharine-sweet smile. “Am I clear?”

“Crystal.” He turned his hand over and captured hers before she could withdraw. “I’m here to do my job. Either help me or go home. Understood, sweetheart?” His words were spoken in a deep, rich timbre, the tone soft and modulated like a caress. But the steely strength between the lines could not be missed.

Her luscious lips thinned. “Look, you’re too pretty. Working undercover requires a detective who can blend in. Sorry, you don’t blend. Do they have any other agents they can send?”

“No, I’m it. Besides, I’m the best.” He grinned, knowing it would set her off and added another jab, “So you really think I’m pretty?”

Deme sighed and resigned herself to having biker boy as her connection to the police force. “Look, if we’re stuck with each other, let’s just keep in mind what we’re after. We’re here to find my sister.”

“Naturally. Now, are you going to play nice and be my cover, or not?”

That frown was back, crinkling the bridge of her nose. “Okay, but don’t get any ideas. You’re not my type.”

“You made that abundantly clear last time we met.” With her hand still in his, he stood, bringing her to her feet. Then he tugged her hard enough to throw her off balance. The only place she could go was smack against his chest, again. “Besides, you’re not my type, either.” He pushed her hair behind her ear, thumbing her earlobe in a tender caress. “At least do a better job of faking that you like me.”

The rigid line of Deme’s spine slowly relaxed until she melted against him, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt instead of pushing him away. One hand slid around his backside, where it found its way into the pocket of his jeans. Using a surprising amount of strength, she slammed him hard against her, his cock nudging firmly against her pelvis. At the same time, she reached up with the other hand and slipped it around the back of his neck, tangling in his hair. Steady pressure brought his mouth closer to her lips until they were only a breath away.

She leaned close to his ear. “As your girlfriend, do I make you hot?”

Did she make him hot? At the warmth of her breath in his ear, Cal’s cock jerked beneath his zipper and his hands clenched around her arms. He wanted her. Wanted to plunge his tongue into her mouth. He wanted to get naked and have hot, juicy sex with her. His body remembered hers in ways that would make a virgin squirm.

Her lips dragged along his jawline until they reached his. For a moment she hovered over him, and then she pressed in for the finale, slanting her mouth over his, thrusting her tongue deep inside to slide across his. Her hips ground against his, teasing his engorged member, converting it to granite.

As quickly as it began, it ended and she stepped out of his arms and reach. Her brows rose and she smiled. “I can fake it with the best of them.”

For a moment, Cal breathed in and out. The teasing look in her eyes was enough to bring Cal back to his senses and stir him up all at once. Forcing a light tone into a voice he was sure would crack, he said, “That’s more like it. I’ll see you tonight. Your room.” With that, he left, inwardly cursing his momentary loss of control. Deme Chattox was a prop to get his job done. A prop, damn it. Anything they might have had in the past was just that…in the past. He was in charge of the inside investigation.

Once outdoors, he slipped his helmet over his head and fastened the buckle. As he slid onto the seat of his Harley, he could imagine sliding into Deme. He kicked the starter and the engine roared to life, rumbling beneath his still-hard cock. Oh, yeah, Deme Chattox was a hell of a ride. But that wasn’t the point.

From the moment he’d stepped into the student commons, he’d been drawn to her. Irresistibly. He’d had no intention of making her agree to be his girlfriend in order to provide himself additional cover for his investigation. Hell, he’d half convinced himself he could do the job without her help altogether. She could go home for all he cared.

Then what the hell had come over him? The idea was for Deme to help his investigation by infiltrating the Gamma Omegas, but at this point, Cal feared her presence would only distract him, in more ways than one.

He’d better get his mind in the game instead of on the sexy redhead he’d wanted to toss across the nearest table and make love to in front of God and everybody.




Chapter 3


Deme dumped her backpack on the narrow bed tucked against the wall in the tiny dorm room, the echo of her sister’s cry reverberating through her. Having met with Detective Cal Black hadn’t set her mind at ease, not when her lips still burned from his kiss. If anything, her meeting with the cop had left her more shaken than she cared to admit. Her overwhelming attraction to him couldn’t be natural. Not after their breakup over a year ago. Something wasn’t right.

Her aversion to the man had a basis. Every time she was near Cal, she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus, couldn’t even claim every thought coming from her head was her own. He infiltrated her mind, body and life in a way that left her off balance, her world in a perpetual tilt. She’d kept her relationship with Cal separate from her sisters, and her special “talents” secret from Cal. How would he react if he’d known about her propensity for magic? Would he think her a freak or crazy?

Torn between the rampant lust raging through her body and her sacred duty to protect her family, Deme avoided his questions, dodging his desire to know more about her personal life. When he’d pushed to know more, she dumped his ass and moved as far away from Chicago as possible to avoid him and his overpowering magnetism. Once bitten by the lust bug, twice hesitant to make a repeat performance.

From the start of their relationship, he’d been clear…He was dedicated to his job protecting the good citizens of Chicago. Nothing and no one would get in the way of his work. He took his responsibilities seriously. He demanded as much passion in his work. And he demanded full disclosure from the people he let into his world. Namely her.

Cal Black was exactly the kind of man Deme didn’t need in her life, even if he was there to help her find Aurai.

She crossed to the one small, dingy window and set the ceramic pot containing her beloved angelica root in the meager sun, distorted by the aging glass. The plant drooped, the colors appearing dull in the dreary environment. Deme empathized with how the plant felt. She, too, needed the light to flourish and chase away the emptiness. She touched the fragile stems and they seemed to brighten and reach upward. A ghost of a smile curved Deme’s lips.

“The girls are usually pretty good about obeying curfew. I’m sure you’ll have no troubles keeping tabs on them.” Dr. Diane Masterson entered the room behind her and gave the space an appraising glance. “It’s not much, but I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Deme faced the college president. “I’m sure I will.”

“I’m so glad you chose our school to complete your degree. We needed an older student as a resident assistant. If nothing else, the girls will have a mentor, someone to look up to. You should have no troubles catching up with the coursework.” She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Miss Jones, tell me again why it was you decided on Colyer-Fenton College and to start three weeks into the semester.”

“I was out of the country visiting a sick relative. I chose Colyer-Fenton because the campus suits me. Quaint and quiet.”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. And that’s what we are, quaint and quiet.” Dr. Masterson glanced back over her shoulder as if to search the hallway for anyone who could refute her lie.

Deme found it odd that the college president personally escorted her to her room instead of one of the administrative employees in charge of housing.

“If you need anything, just ask one of the girls. They can show you where things are. I’d better go. I have a meeting with my staff in five minutes.” The older woman backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

A meeting, ha! The Chicago police detective in charge of finding Aurai had interviews with the staff scheduled throughout the afternoon. Her Harley-riding sister, Brigid, had met the officer in charge of the case and he’d informed her of the steps they were taking to find their sister, including a thorough interrogation of each campus employee and a number of the over six thousand students.

As far as Deme was concerned, it wasn’t enough.

She stared around the stark confines of the room deemed the resident assistant’s quarters for the Gamma Omega sorority dorm. She’d had to pull some major strings to land in this one. But this is where she needed to be in order to discover the whereabouts of her youngest sister.

Deme unlocked the window and pushed it upward. A cool blast of fall air blew in, stirring the stale air. She had the best view of all the rooms in the dorm. Maybe it was a perk for being R.A. Located on the shortest side of the building, the room overlooked a fenced courtyard garden. The majority of the dorm rooms stretched out and away from the courtyard.

Deme inhaled the scent of the pines growing close to her window and the sweet fragrance of roses. Ivy clung to the brick walls just below her window, the leafy green vines filling Deme with a sense of calm. The roses in the garden below were in the full bloom of late summer, early fall. Before long, frost would claim the plants and lay them dormant for the chilly winter months.

They would find Aurai before then. She was their sister, the fifth point of the pentagram. They were a unit. Together they were as one. Deme’s fingers wrapped around the ornate silver pentagram hanging by a delicate silver chain at her throat. They couldn’t fail.

Water dripped from the faucet in the single sink against the wall. Deme moved across the room and twisted the handle to make it quit, but no amount of tightening the handle stopped the slow, steady dripping. She’d have to get maintenance to fix it or she’d be up all night counting each drop.

A light knock at the door echoed against the plain white walls. Before Deme could call out for the person to come in, the familiar willowy, sandy blonde with bright sea-green eyes slipped through the door.

Deme hurriedly closed the gap between them and hugged her sister tightly against her chest. “Oh, Gina. I can’t believe this is happening.”

Aegina Chattox squeezed her around her middle and then pushed her far enough away to look her in the eye. “Me, either. I’m just glad you and I got in without anyone knowing who we really are.”

“Did you have any troubles selling yourself as the aquarium cleaner?”

“None whatsoever. And the aquariums are in atrocious condition in the central library. I should have several days’ work on my hands and lots of opportunities to snoop around.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t take long to find Aurai.”

Gina hugged her again. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Deme nodded. “Me, too.”

Without so much as a knock, the door burst open and another one of her sisters entered. Selene, wearing a flowing white skirt, with her long, rich, chocolate-brown hair tied up in a bright colored scarf, entered, stepping into Deme’s arms. Tears trembled on her thick lashes, blurring her deep brown eyes. “Where could she be?”

Deme fought the lump in her throat. “I don’t know, but between the four of us, we will find her.” She patted her second-youngest sister on her back and set her away. “What do you know so far?”

“We met with Brigid off campus and she filled us in.”

Gina drifted toward the window and peered down into the garden. “Supposedly, she disappeared during a sorority hazing ceremony. None of the girls know what happened. Or at least they’re not talking.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “How could someone vanish in a crowd of people and no one see it?” She turned back, a frown marring her smooth, tanned forehead. “They know something.”

Footsteps in the hallway made the three women fall silent. When the steps continued on, Deme relaxed but she spoke in quiet tones. “No one knows we’re related. Brigid was the only one of us to openly meet with the detectives in charge of the investigation and the school officials as Aurai’s sister. She can continue to be our contact with the external investigation. I met with the undercover detective. He’ll pretend to be my boyfriend so that we can pass information.”

Both Gina’s and Selene’s brows rose. “Boyfriend?”

“His idea, definitely not mine.”

“I’m impressed already,” Selene said.

Deme glared at her sisters. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Gina touched her sister’s arm. “You can’t let that last guy you dated affect every relationship, Deme. What was his name, anyway? You never did tell any of us.”

“Yeah, why all the secrecy?” Selene added.

Deme shrugged. “No reason. Besides, it didn’t last.”

Gina slid a glance sideways at Selene. “Still evading the question.”

“No kidding.” Selene addressed Deme. “Well, you shouldn’t let him taint your feelings for the other men in the world. There are some nice ones out there to choose from.”

Deme closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, guilt pressuring her. She really should fess up to her sisters. She’d never kept secrets from them, with the exception of her relationship with Cal.

For the first time in the year she’d been away from him, she could actually think of him without choking up. Leaving him had been about the hardest thing she’d ever done. She couldn’t begin to contemplate how she’d feel after leaving him a second time. As best she could, she would remain aloof…an overwhelming challenge in the presence of the man’s alpha-male sex appeal and bad-boy biker persona. “The undercover detective’s name is Cal.”

“Nice, strong name. What does he look like?” Gina’s eyebrows disappeared into her sandy-blond bangs.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course!” both sisters agreed as one.

“He’s your typical eye candy with dark hair and dark eyes.” And muscular legs and arms that could wrap around her and carry her to places she’d never been. That flash of heat she’d experienced in the cafeteria returned in force. “Not my type,” she lied.

Selene’s brows drew together. “Since you’re not interested, perhaps I could provide his cover.”

Deme held up a hand. “We’ve already established our so-called relationship in public. Otherwise I’d let you.”

“Point made.” Gina grinned. “In the meantime, loosen up, sis.”

“I’m not here to find a man. I’m here to find Aurai.”

Selene wrapped her arm around Deme and hugged her tight. “That dude you dated really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

“Let me at him,” Gina said. “Any man who makes my oldest sister a basket case for a year deserves to be infested with the fleas of a thousand camels.” She pulled a pen and notebook from her hobo bag and jotted down a note to herself. “I’ll come up with a potion that’ll give him webbed feet.”

Deme’s lips twitched. “Although I like the image, you can’t do that. Cursing someone is delving into dark powers.”

Gina’s lips twisted. “I’d only do it once. And it would be well worth the risk if it makes the man as miserable as he made you.”

Deme turned away. The image of Cal with webbed feet almost brought a smile to her face. Not that her sister could conjure webbed feet. Their powers didn’t work like that. But wait until her sisters saw Cal Black. They’d never give her a moment’s rest with their sisterly teasing. Even the thought of the tall, dark cop made Deme’s body burn. “We all have our covers established. We need to maintain our anonymity in order to gain the trust of the other girls. We want answers, and the sooner the better.”

“All I know is that it’s been two days. Two days too long.” Selene winced and pressed fingers to the bridge of her nose.

Deme laid a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

She breathed in and out for a moment before answering. “There’s a dark aura surrounding this campus. I sensed it as soon as I came through the gates. It feels like someone trying to push into my mind.”

“Do you think you should let that someone in? Maybe he or she can tell you what happened.”

“I tried, but so far there’s like this wall blocking them.”

“Them? As in more than one?” Deme asked.

Selene’s fingers moved from the bridge of her nose to her temples, where she massaged the skin, her eyes squeezed shut. “I think so.”

Still staring out the window, Gina asked, “Think it would help if we get together tonight to cast a circle and call them forth?”

Deme had sensed the darkness, too, but Selene had a better connection with the metaphysical world than any of them. She’d even had conversations with the dead. On more than one occasion, her ability to sense trouble had saved their butts. When Selene perceived a disturbance in the spiritual balance, invariably she was right. It was her gift, as knowledge and connection to the earth was Deme’s and Selene’s was water. Brigid connected with fire, and Aurai, sweet Aurai’s gift was her ability to influence and communicate with the wind and air currents.

“Let’s wait and see what happens and what we can learn from the students and staff on campus,” Deme said.

“Brigid said the Gamma Omegas’ sorority initiation ceremony was conducted in a garden.” Gina turned back to the others. “Do you suppose it was this one?”

Selene walked toward the window, her face paling as she neared the opening. When she reached the windowsill, she wavered, her body swaying. She clutched the raised window and pulled it down, pressing her forehead against the glass. “Something happened here. I can’t tell exactly what, but it wasn’t good.”

Deme’s lips tightened. “Then that’s where we start our search. Gina, see if you can find any history on the college in the library. Past students, old newspaper articles, anything. Selene, you’ll be a member of the faculty. Check out the other professors and staff for anything concerning Aurai’s disappearance, the garden and the sorority. I’ll work on the girls in the sorority.”

“We need to maintain our distance in front of others.” Gina looped an arm around Selene and led her away from the window. “Hanging out together will blow our cover. If there is a kidnapper lurking on campus, we can’t let him know we’re sisters. When we meet again, it needs to be away from campus.”

Deme nodded. “Agreed. I’ll get close to Aurai’s roommate. I think she’s in this building.” Deme flipped through the roster Dr. Masterson had given her of students living in the dormitory. “There she is—Rachel Taylor. Brigid said she was one of the girls initiated into the sorority that night.”

Selene gripped her arm, her clutch pinching Deme’s skin. “You aren’t going to try to pledge the sorority, are you?”

“I don’t think it’s possible.” Deme loosened Selene’s grip and patted her hand. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. But promise me you won’t join the sorority. It’s too dangerous.” How she just seemed to know things was a mystery to all the sisters, but they didn’t ignore her when she gave them warnings.

“I promise. Pledge week is over and they’ve done their initiation. New members have already been inducted. I’ll be on the periphery since I’m the R.A.” Deme glanced at Selene. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

She smiled, her dull, green eyes brightening. “With my sisters around me, I’ll be fine. Speaking of which, where’s Brigid now?”

“She’s working with the detective on the police investigation.” Gina closed the window and twisted the latch before she crossed to the others. “We’ll see her around campus as they conduct their interviews. However, everyone will know she’s Aurai’s sister. They won’t know who we are, if we’re careful.”

“Then come on, we need to part ways and get this investigation under way.” Deme held out her hands. Gina took one and Selene the other until their hands closed the ring.

Without her other two sisters, Deme sensed how incomplete the circle was. She closed her eyes and began, her sisters joining in.

“Feel the power

Free our hearts

Find our way

Be the one

With the strength of the earth

With the rising of the wind

With the calm of the water

With the intensity of fire

With the freedom of spirit

The goddess is within us

She is power

We are her

We are one

Blessed Be.”

As each word passed their lips, the air in the room grew thicker until breathing became more difficult. A funny odor filled the room, similar to the scent of decaying vegetation. A scratching sound penetrated Deme’s concentration. Selene’s hand squeezed hers in a death grip.

“Do you feel them?” Selene asked. “They’re screaming. Can you hear them?”

Deme opened her eyes and stared around the room. The lights seemed dimmer, and the sunlight that had a moment before shone through the window had disappeared behind a cloud. The scratching sound she’d heard was English ivy rubbing against the window. She didn’t remember it being that high before. Had she missed it?

The water dripping in the sink had become a thin, steady flow. Gina dropped Selene’s and Deme’s hands and reached for the handle on the sink. “What’s with this faucet?” She twisted the handle and nothing happened.

“I can hear them, but I can’t understand what they’re saying.” Selene clutched her head between her hands and swayed. “They’re so loud. I can’t shut them out.” Her hands dropped to her sides and her troubled gaze searched the room until she found the door. “I have to leave.”

Deme wrapped her arm around Selene’s waist. “Go. Get off campus.”

“I’ll go for now, but we need to meet tonight. I want to know who they are and why they’re fighting to get in my head.”

“This damned faucet isn’t working.” Gina slammed her hand against the handle.

“Leave it.” Deme herded her brown-haired sister toward the door. “Selene needs to get out of here.”

Gina jiggled the handle again. “Give me a second. I think I can get this thing—” The handle flew off and water gushed from where it had been, shooting in a four-foot radius around the room.

“Damn, what the hell’s wrong with this place?” Gina slipped on the floor and dropped to her knees, reaching beneath the sink for the shutoff valve.

“I have to go.” Selene staggered toward the door, her eyes squinting and her forehead lined with pain.

Deme opened the door and glanced out into the hallway. “You can go now. The hallway’s clear.” When Selene passed her, she gave her sister’s arm a squeeze. “Be careful.”

As she closed the door behind Selene, Deme turned to the scratching at the window. The vines now choked out the little bit of light. A chill that had nothing to do with being wet or cold shivered across Deme’s skin.

Gina turned the shutoff valve, and the geyser of water slowed to a trickle and finally stopped. She straightened, soaked to the skin, and shook some of the water from her arms. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know, but you’d better go before the Gamma Omega girls come looking for all the commotion.”

Deme checked the hallway and held the door for her sister. “See you tonight. Be safe.”

Once her sisters were gone, Deme closed the door and leaned her back against it, staring at the wreck of her room.

She wasn’t Selene, but she’d felt it, too. As they’d stood in the circle, the air in the room changed as if drawing on their power.

Standing in a puddle of water, the lights dim and the window blocked by ivy, Deme knew with certainty they were dealing with more than just a kidnapper. Aurai was in a lot more trouble than they’d originally thought.




Chapter 4


After Cal left campus, he returned to the Chicago Police Special Investigations Division. Lead investigator Lieutenant Martin Warner had requested his presence. Cal hoped he’d fill him in on the rest of the details he’d left out in the hurried initial briefing that morning.

Cal passed the front desk, waving at the sergeant who manned the telephone. He wove his way through the office cubicles to the rear of the building, where the Special Investigations Team had set up a war room.

Having been on the team all of four hours and twenty-seven minutes, Cal didn’t know anyone but the lieutenant who’d briefed him earlier that morning.

When Cal entered the war room, Marty had his back to the door. He stood with his feet braced wide and his chin resting in his hand, staring at a white board with a thick black horizontal line stretched across the surface. Taped in one corner was a preprinted map of the Colyer-Fenton College campus. Beside the lieutenant, a woman dressed in black leather with long, ink-black hair hanging down to her waist leaned against the edge of the table, her arms crossed over her chest. “Has to be connected,” she said, her voice husky, yet smooth, like milk chocolate-covered gravel.

Marty, as he’d asked Cal to call him, nodded. “Every one of the incidents occurred either on campus or were performed by people who are related to Colyer-Fenton.”

Cal cleared his throat.

Marty spun and faced him. The woman beside him turned more slowly. When she saw who was standing there, her lips curled up on the sides in a devilish smile. “Ah, our detective has arrived.”

Cal’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t remember meeting this woman, but there was something familiar about her. “I’m sorry, I haven’t had the pleasure.” He stuck out his hand. “Cal Black.”

When she took his hand, an odd burst of heat streamed from her hand to his, shooting like an adrenaline burst up his arm and into his chest.

He pulled his hand back quicker than normal, his palm still tingling. “And you are?”

“Brigid.” Her smile grew wider.

Marty clapped Brigid on the back. “Brigid is one of the team.”

“How long have you been on the force?”

“Counting today?” She checked her watch. “Approximately four hours.”

Cal’s gaze shot from her to Marty.

Marty sighed. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say, she’s been working with the Chicago Police Department for almost a year and demonstrated her…uh…expertise. Mostly with arson investigations, but we have reason to believe she could be of assistance on this team.”

Cal frowned. “Does she understand the risks of working on the Chicago police force?”

Brigid crossed her arms over her chest, her black leather vest creaking, the black nail polish on her fingertips shining. “I can take care of myself, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Do you have a license to carry a weapon?”

“No.”

“Do you even know how to shoot?”

“No.” She glanced at Marty.

“She’s not a trained police officer, Cal.” Marty grinned. “But she has talents that could come in handy on this case and others we’ve seen like it.”

Not until she stared up at him, forcing him to look directly into her eyes, did he realize how intensely blue hers were.

Cal nodded, not entirely sold on Brigid’s so-called talents, but willing to give the lieutenant the benefit of the doubt. “Maybe you can explain to me what exactly the Special Investigations Team does?”

“Yeah.” Brigid sat on the conference table and crossed her legs Indian fashion. “Tell him what we’re up against.”

“That’s just it.” Marty shook his head. “We don’t know what we’re up against. We’ve taken a select few of Chicago’s finest from the police force and a couple detectives like you and a few trusted civilians we’ve worked with in the past…”

Brigid shot a frown at the lieutenant.

The man’s lips twisted. “Okay, one trusted civilian…to form this team.”

Brigid’s frown smoothed.

The lieutenant stared hard into Cal’s eyes. “We get all the cases no one knows what to do with, the ones that don’t make sense, and we try to make sense out of them.”

Brigid snorted in a very unladylike manner, yet in keeping with the black leather, bad-ass persona she’d adopted. “What the lieutenant is trying to say, but isn’t quite nailing, is that we will be investigating the cases involving paranormal activities. Incidents that defy the norm. The quirky, weird, bizarre, uncanny and downright strange occurrences that usually get shoved under the radar because they make people feel too uncomfortable to address.”

“What are you talking about? I thought I was investigating the disappearance of a girl.” Cal reminded himself this girl wasn’t just any girl. She was his ex-girlfriend’s sister.

“And you are,” Marty assured him. “First and foremost, we want to retrieve the missing girl and reunite her with her family.” The lieutenant stared over at Brigid. “While I have both of you here alone, I need to know something.”

“Know what?” Cal demanded.

“I need to know that your connections with the victim’s family members will not get in your way of performing a thorough investigation.”

“What connection?” Cal’s heart beat faster, but he played dumb to the lieutenant’s question. What did Marty know about his relationship with Deme Chattox?

The lieutenant shook his head. “We conduct a thorough investigation of all our team members, security check, background check down to what vet you take your dog to.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Cal stated flatly.

“Well, we knew you had a thing going with Deme Chattox, the victim’s oldest sister.”

Brigid’s eyes narrowed. “Were you doing my sister? Tsk, tsk. And here I thought we’d have a shot at making things happen.”

“Sister?” Cal glanced from Brigid back to Marty. “What do you mean, sister?”

“Our missing girl, Aurai Chattox, has four sisters.”

Brigid gave him a little wave with the tips of her fingers. “Brigid Chattox, Deme’s younger sister. She didn’t tell you about us, did she?” She tapped her chin with her fingertip. “I wonder why.”

Cal wondered, too. Seems like when you’re sleeping with someone, they’d tell you all their secrets. Family shouldn’t be a secret. But not Deme. From the get-go, their passion singed any other thoughts from his head. When he finally got around to asking, she’d gone. Completely out of his life. There one day, gone the next.

“One of the reasons I brought you in on this case was because I knew you had dealings with Deme Chattox and probably knew a little about her and her family. When Brigid told me what the Chattox sisters had planned, I knew I needed one of Chicago’s best detectives on the inside.”

Brigid shook her head, her lips twisting. “He didn’t trust us to do it on our own.”

“Damn it, Brigid!” Marty pounded his fist on the conference table so hard, even the ubercalm Brigid bounced, her eyes widening.

Marty’s lips pressed into a thin line, his face beetred and getting redder by the second. “We’ve already lost one young woman to whoever or whatever kidnapped her. I don’t want to lose four more.”

Brigid uncurled her legs and pushed off the table, standing tall. “She’s not gone for good. We just can’t find her.” Her jaw tightened. “But we will, I have no doubt. I only told you because I wasn’t going to refuse a little help.”

“And rightfully so. A missing girl on a campus is not something to take lightly. The police need to be just as involved in returning the girl to her family as bringing the perpetrator to justice.” He aimed the remarks at Brigid, then he turned to face Cal. “Back to my original question. Is your relationship with Deme Chattox going to cause you any difficulties?”

“I don’t have a problem keeping on track.” Heat rose in Cal’s belly as he recalled the feeling of Deme’s lips on his. She could be a major distraction, but he refused to let her. Their “thing” had ended a year ago.

Brigid’s hand brushed his, ever so lightly and briefly, the heat burning a path across his nerve endings. “Yeah, and you didn’t want to kiss her, but you did,” she whispered to him, low enough only he could hear.

“Huh?” Cal jerked away from the woman. How’d she know?

Brigid’s lips twitched. “You heard me. Play nice with my sister. She had a nasty time of it with a man almost a year ago and hasn’t dated since. If I’d known who it was, I might have been tempted to inflict some bodily harm on him.”

Cal almost laughed out loud. The petite woman with the long, black hair didn’t look as if she could harm a fly, much less a full-grown man. Besides, she had her facts all wrong.

A year ago placed Deme with him. He had to be the man Brigid was talking about. But Deme hadn’t had a nasty time of it. More like she’d given him a nasty time. As soon as he’d asked her to marry him, she’d left. Talk about cold feet.

It wasn’t as if he’d meant it—he’d blurted it out immediately following the most mind-blowing sex he’d ever had. Hell, they’d spent every night for a month in his bed, in his apartment. It must have seemed like a natural progression for her to marry him and move in permanently.

He’d waited two days, thinking maybe she’d been thrown off balance by his proposal.

Those two days had been the longest he’d ever experienced. When he’d gone by her apartment in downtown Chicago, she’d moved out. Nothing left but an empty roll of box tape.

Apparently Deme hadn’t told her sisters any more about him than she had told him about them. Why all the secrecy? If she didn’t want to be a part of his life, all she had to do was say so. Moving away had been extreme.

When Marty had told him about Deme’s involvement in the case, his first instinct was to walk away. Getting answers to why she left was one of the reasons he’d agreed.

In the back of his mind, the need for a little payback had spurred him into action. Thus his kiss in the student commons. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Deme Chattox was not immune to him…unfortunately, not any more than he was immune to her.

“Very well, then.” Marty turned toward the white board hanging on the wall. “Let me fill you in on what’s been happening on or around campus. Maybe you’ll understand why the Special Investigations Team is working this case.”

Brigid shot a narrow-eyed glance at Cal before turning her attention to the board as if to say, I’m watching you.

Cal could have laughed out loud, but the lieutenant was talking.

He pointed to a time line on the board with a tick mark near the start of the line. “Two weeks ago, a male student attacked a female student while she was walking through the campus. She’d never talked to him, he’d never expressed any interest in her. Up until the attack, he’d been a model student, making good grades, working toward a prelaw undergrad degree. Clean record, no criminal history. Nothing. Out of the blue, he attacks a girl.”

“So? Doesn’t it happen every day?”

Marty nodded. “You’d think. But when questioned, he broke down in tears claiming it was as if he had no control over his actions. One minute he was worried about his economics test, the next he’d jumped a girl and practically raped her before a member of the faculty came along and pulled him off.”

“Again…so?” Cal had seen rapists claim temporary insanity too many times to believe. If a man could rape a woman, he had to have something wrong with him and needed to be taken off the streets.

“At first, it looked like a cut-and-dried case of attempted rape…but then it happened again.” Marty shot a glance over his shoulder at Cal and Brigid before he pointed at the second hash mark. “Two days after the first incident, another boy attempted rape.”

“Same one?”

“No, a different boy. Same thing. He was a model student, premed degree. On his way to the library when he lost it and tried to rape a girl.”

“Power of suggestion?” Cal offered.

“You mean because news got around the other boy wanted to get in on the action?” Marty shook his head. “That’s what I thought at first. The university didn’t let the information out about the previous attempted rape for fear the parents would yank their kids midsemester. That and we had their rapist.”

“Is there any connection between the two guys? Are they in the same fraternity? Do they live in the same dorm? Involved in a hazing event or something?” Cal asked.

Marty shook his head. “We checked into all that. Again, one of the students is prelaw, the other premed. Neither has joined a frat house. One lives on campus and the other in an apartment nearby. As far as both are concerned, they didn’t even know each other existed until these events occurred.”

“Where did the attempted rapes happen?” Brigid stared at the campus map, her gaze so intense her blue eyes appeared steel-gray.

Sweat popped out on Cal’s forehead. “Is it me, or is it getting hot in here?”

The lieutenant tugged at the tie around his neck, loosening it, a bead of perspiration sliding down the side of his head. “It’s getting hot.” He stared across at Brigid. “Do you mind?”

She flushed, a weak smile crossing her lips. “Sorry.” Then her smile disappeared, she clasped the medallion hanging around her neck and closed her eyes.

Within a few seconds, the room temperature dropped enough that Cal could tell a marked difference. He looked around for who might have adjusted the room’s temperature. When he located the thermostat, nobody stood near it. The only occupants of the room were the three of them.

His gaze returned to Brigid, who clutched at the medallion, her eyes blinking open. She met his gaze with quirked lips and raised eyebrows.

“The Chattox girl disappeared here.” Marty poked the time line, smearing the black hash mark identified with a date and the letters AC for Aurai Chattox.

Cal lifted the dry erase marker and added a dark slash before all the hash marks three weeks prior to the girl’s disappearance.

The lieutenant’s brow rose. “What’s that for?”

“One missing maintenance man. I spoke with HR this morning. I’m their new maintenance man as of today. The prior guy never showed up for work three weeks ago. Since he had only been on the job for a couple of months, they assumed he’d just quit. They didn’t have any emergency numbers to contact next of kin, and he didn’t return their calls.”

Marty’s brows pulled together into a V. “And they didn’t file a missing persons report?”

“No family to miss him.” Cal shrugged. “Think he might be our kidnapper?”

Brigid shook her head, her gaze fixed on the board though she appeared lost in thought. “I don’t think so, but we should add him to our list of people to find.”

“Two other incidents happened off campus involving a professor and a student,” Marty continued. “Both separate, but somewhat the same. A female student who’d been part of the sorority Aurai was pledging tried to commit suicide by slashing her wrists,” Marty said.

Cal sucked in a breath. “How is she?”

“She’ll live, but she’s in the hospital, recovering from blood loss and she’s under psychiatric observation.”

“The professor?”

“Ran her car into the Chicago River.”

“Accident?”

“No, she’d left a suicide note at her apartment. Her sister found it.”

“And her prognosis?”

“Dead.” Marty pointed at the time line where two more marks broke the line, one before Aurai’s disappearance, one after. “Her car was found this morning by a bicyclist.”

Marty faced Cal. “Your job is to work the school staff, ask questions, get answers. Your connection to the sorority will be Deme Chattox. I expect you to pass information to her and gather it from her on a regular basis. Brigid will be working with the rest of the team on the outside of campus, questioning other victims’ families and acquaintances.”

“When will I meet the other team members?” Cal asked.

Marty smiled. “Soon enough. For now, get inside the campus and find out what the hell’s going on.”

“Will do.” Cal stood tall, all but saluting his superior. “And thanks for your confidence in my abilities.”

“Don’t thank me. Prove you deserve it.” Marty started to turn away but stopped. His voice lowered, and he pinned Cal with an intense stare. “And Cal, be open-minded about the strange and unexplainable. There’s been some really weird stuff going on you probably aren’t aware of.”

Cal’s gut tightened at the tone of Marty’s voice, a chill rippling across his skin. “Yes, sir.” As he turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of Brigid fingering the medallion she wore around her neck. The metal was shaped into a star with five points inside a circle. He’d seen a similar one, but where?

As Cal left the war room, Brigid fell in step beside him, her fingers still wrapped around the metal.

An image of Deme lying nude in his bed flashed through his mind. When they made love, she’d taken off everything but the medallion—a pentagram just like the one Brigid wore. She’d said it was a gift from her mother and she never removed it.

When Cal stopped to face Brigid, she looked up at him, her brows rising up into her black hair.

Cal reached out and touched the pentagram at Brigid’s neck. “Does your medallion have meaning?”

Brigid’s lips curled upward. “Deme didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” He had a feeling Deme had kept a lot more than her family from him, and the anger at being kept in the dark rose to the surface and boiled there.

“It’s a pentagram. The sign associated with the Wiccan.”

He had an open mind when it came to people of different religious persuasions. To each his own as long as it didn’t interfere with others’ beliefs.

But he also believed that everything had a logical explanation. Magic and what some would call woo-woo was just superstitious bullshit some people used to scare and control others. The lieutenant had said the Special Investigations Team, or SPIT, as Cal had shortened it, was responsible for taking on the cases that didn’t have an obvious explanation. It was up to them to find it. But logic could be found in every situation.

He nodded toward the pendant. “Does it represent your religion? Your faith?”

“Most definitely.” Brigid held the pentagram out in front of her to the end of the chain. “You see, our mother was a witch.”




Chapter 5


After Deme cleaned the water from her dorm room floor, she set out to find Rachel, Aurai’s roommate. She’d scanned the roster she’d been given as the resident assistant and found her listed on the same floor several doors down from where Deme’s room was located.

Girls ducked in and out of rooms, wafts of perfume or hair spray filling the air with each passing. The cloying scents overwhelmed Deme. She didn’t use scented candles in her apartment or in her rituals, preferring the natural odors the earth gave off. The sharp aroma of pine sap, the earthiness of decaying leaves or the extravagant natural fragrance of roses blooming, in her mind, could not be duplicated.

On every door she passed, the Greek letters for gamma and omega hung. Some of the rooms had the girls’ names hanging on cute signs. The more young women she saw, the more surreal the experience became. Each girl seemed perfect. Thick, beautiful hair, perfectly coifed, figures a model would die for and skin as smooth and blemish-free as a newborn babe’s.

Where were the late teens with acne scars? What happened to bad hair days and the few extra pounds the sedentary life of a college coed generated?

Perhaps Rachel was a thorn among the roses of the sorority sisters. Deme had received text messages from her sister describing her first impressions of her dorm room and her roommate. Aurai had given Deme the impression that Rachel was a plump young woman with frizzy hair and thick glasses, her face riddled with pockmarks from a bad case of acne.

After all the Barbie look-alikes, Deme could appreciate a real girl with curves and flaws. She’d be more human, more approachable than the other residents of the Gamma Omega dormitory.

Deme paused in front of the room her sister had occupied up until forty-eight hours ago. Her chest tightened, her hand shaking as she reached out to knock. Deep in the back of her mind, Deme desperately hoped Aurai would open the door and hug her, telling her the cry for help was all in her imagination and that everything was fine.

Her eyes stinging, Deme blinked. And if wishes were horses…She tapped her knuckles on the hard wooden door and waited, refusing to hold her breath. No matter what she told herself about wishing things better, she couldn’t slow her heartbeat. As she waited, her blood slammed through her veins, pounding against her eardrums.

“Just a minute!” a voice called out from inside.

After what seemed a very long time, but in fact had been only a matter of seconds, the door swung open.

A dark-haired beauty peered out, her eyes widening when she saw Deme. “Oh.” Her gaze darted to each side of where Deme stood. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Deme Jones, the new R.A. for the dorm.” She stuck out her hand. “Are you Rachel?”

Rachel nodded, taking Deme’s hand in a limp grip, her dark, shiny hair falling into her smooth-skinned face. She had her purse slung over her shoulder and appeared to be on her way out.

Deme frowned. This girl was not what she’d expected. From Aurai’s texts, she’d conjured an image of a shy girl with self-esteem issues because of a less than perfect body and face.

This young woman was like so many others in the building, beautiful and too perfect for her comfort. Deme touched her own chin, conscious of the scar there from the time she dove into a creek as a preteen and hit the bottom. The mouthful of rocks had been the least of her worries at the time—the scar a constant reminder to look before you dive into unknown waters.

Deme swallowed hard to keep from choking on her next words. Words she fought hard to keep natural. “I hear your roommate bailed on you.”

Rachel’s elegantly arched brows drew downward into a frown. “What did you hear?”

“Only that she bailed. Do you want me to find another girl to share your room?” It cost Deme to offer. More than anything she wanted to find her sister, but she didn’t want the girls of the dorm to know that was her real reason for being there.

“No!” Rachel reached out to touch Deme, her hand shaking, a pained twist in dark brows. “Aurai will be back. I just know it. She probably just got homesick or something and went home for a few days. She’ll be back, I tell you.” Her hand fell to her side, her voice fading. “She has to come back.”

“Rachel?” A male voice called out behind Deme. “Is that you?” The voice belonged to a tall, gangly young man, more typical of what Deme expected from a college student. His hair hung too long around his ears, the excess flesh around his cheeks and middle gave him a big teddy-bear look.

Rachel’s smile widened and her chin dipped. “Hi, Mike.”

For a beautiful girl, she lacked the confidence that came with a perfect complexion and figure. No, Rachel didn’t resemble the outward picture Aurai had painted. Not in the slightest sense. But the way she acted around the boy displayed a hint of the crippling shyness Deme had expected.

“Um…can we talk later?” Rachel looked up at Deme, who stood at least a head taller than the girl. Rachel’s expression begged for release.

“Sure. Just wanted to introduce myself and get to know some of the girls in the dorm.”

“I promise I’ll come by later. It’s just…” She blushed and shot a shy glance at the boy. “I have to go.”

The young man stood as though transfixed, his jaw drooping. “Rachel?” He didn’t seem to recognize the girl in front of him.

“Yeah, Mike, it’s me.” She hooked his arm and led him away from Deme.

“What happened to you?” Mike was saying as Rachel dragged him down the hall.

“Sorority science project?” she quipped, laughing shakily, her voice fading as she stepped through the door leading to the stairwell.

Sorority science project? Deme shook her head and took out the ring of keys she’d been entrusted with as the resident assistant. She waited until the hallway emptied and jammed the key into the lock. She unlocked and opened the door, darting in as one of the doors on the floor squeaked open.

Her heart racing, Deme shut the door and stood with her back to it.

The room was nothing to write home about. Two twin-size beds, two utility dressers and two closets comprised the major assets. The dormitory was old enough that the bathroom was down the hall and shared by the entire floor. Deme had passed it on the way to Aurai’s room. A cleaning schedule had been worked out and posted on the bulletin board beside the entrance.

One bed had a soft pink comforter with a giant black-and-white-dots pattern spread across its surface. Leaning against the wall were three pillows in the black, pink and white of the coverlet. Not something Aurai would have chosen in a million years. It had to be Rachel’s bed.

As Deme glanced around the room, her stomach knotted. The other bed had a midnight-blue coverlet with gold stars, silver moons and white clouds sprinkled across it. So typical of Aurai. Always the dramatic one, playing up her heritage as a witch in subtle ways without actually confessing to those around her. While she’d dreamed of blending in with regular people, she was drawn to the mystical and magical in ways only her sisters understood.

Her eyes blurring, Deme continued her perusal, her gaze landing on a picture frame perched on the dresser beside the pink bed. A dark-haired, nondescript girl stood between two adults, equally nondescript, presumably her parents.

Deme lifted the frame and stared down at the photograph. Scrawled in flowing cursive were the words We love you, Rachel. Mom and Dad. Upon closer inspection, the girl in the picture was everything Aurai had described, chubby, pockmarked, frizzy-haired and slumping like a shy girl.

How could a person change so much in so short a time? As if she’d transformed overnight. Deme removed her cell phone from her back pocket and snapped a picture of the photograph. She’d show her sisters and get their opinion. No amount of makeup could cover pockmarks that deep. And the Rachel she’d met in the hallway didn’t have a single blemish. Could there be two Rachels with the same last name?

Deme replaced the picture frame and examined the contents of the dresser. Beside the frame was an ornate blue bottle with a very small amount of liquid inside.

Careful so as not to spill it, Deme pulled the glass stopper out of the top and sniffed. An acrid aroma wafted up in her face and stung the insides of her nostrils. She quickly jammed the stopper back on the bottle, snorting to get the stench out of her system.

She held the bottle up, looking for a label where it had none. What the heck was it? Was it medicine? It had to be something strong. Even now, her sinuses pinched in protest, her head aching from the residual stench. She shook her head to clear a sudden dizzy feeling then set the bottle on the dresser and continued her search. For what, she wasn’t certain. Any clue as to her sister’s whereabouts would be nice. She wasn’t so sure it could be found in her roommate’s belongings.

The first drawer inside Rachel’s dresser contained a myriad of hair accessories, facial cleansers, acne medication and perfume bottles. Typical toiletries for a female exiting her teens. The acne creams were in keeping with the girl in the picture.

The remaining drawers contained clothing befitting the conservative lifestyle of a shy, withdrawn girl of larger proportions than the Rachel who’d left the room a few minutes earlier.

Books, a backpack and more clothing were the contents of Rachel’s little closet. Nothing that gave a hint to her part in Aurai’s disappearance, except perhaps the black robe hanging as far to the back as possible, almost hidden by a pale blue formal. Deme snapped a picture of the robe, unsure of its purpose in a coed’s closet. Especially a freshman so far from potential graduation. And the robe had a hood. Not typical of graduation gowns.

Having avoided her sister’s belongings, Deme finally turned to her side of the small room. Throughout her investigation of Rachel’s things, she’d felt her sister’s presence in her belongings. Everything Aurai touched left a residual aura of the youngest Chattox sibling.

The photograph on her dresser was a picture taken several years ago when all five sisters had been home at the same time. Her mother had been alive and snapped the picture, capturing the essence of each girl in one still image. Deme stood tallest in the center, her red hair glinting copper in the sunshine, loose and wavy around her shoulders, her face serious, as befitting the oldest daughter.

Selene stood on one side of Deme, her dark brown hair piled high on her head, her brown-black eyes fathomless, a secret smile playing on her lips. On Deme’s other side, Gina had her arm around Deme and Brigid, her willowy body clothed in light blues and greens, her sandy-blond hair a sharp contrast to Brigid’s coal-black mane and bold, black, Goth attire. Gina’s smile was gentle, like a day at the beaches she loved. Brigid, on the other hand, stood with a cocky tilt to her head, her eyebrows arched as if to challenge anyone to say anything even slightly offbeat.

Beside Selene, Aurai stood with a happy, innocent grin, her pale blond hair lifted by her blessed wind. She couldn’t have been more than twelve in the picture, her body lean and boyish. She hadn’t yet blossomed into the beautiful young woman who’d gone off to college full of dreams of the future. She hadn’t come into her talents, verging on puberty and all the responsibility of the adult Chattox women.

A simpler time for Aurai.

Deme squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the picture to her chest, fighting back the tears. She hadn’t cried since her mother died right after Aurai’s high school graduation.

On the island of St. Croix, Deme hadn’t been there to say goodbye to her dear mother. She’d run away from her life in Chicago, away from her feelings for Cal Black. Deme had spent the better part of a year trying to forget that, because she was who she was, she couldn’t have a normal relationship with a man. Especially a man like Cal who saw only the black and white, the good and bad. Shades of gray would disturb him. Hell, her shades of gray would disturb most men. Why bother trying?

Fiona Chattox had been their rock. Deme hadn’t known her father long when he’d disappeared from their lives. She’d been the tender age of six. Her mother told the girls he’d died, but Deme never believed it, certain that her father would return some day and tell them he’d been spirited away by some unknown force and held captive all those years. Why else would he leave his beautiful wife and five daughters?

Deme opened her eyes and stared around the room Aurai had made her second home. She might not have her parents to fend for her, but Deme would be damned if her youngest sibling disappeared forever like her father. She’d find her. And when she did, she’d make whoever had taken her pay.

She couldn’t bring herself to let go of the picture. Instead she slipped it from its frame and tucked it beneath her shirt, sticking the frame inside the dresser drawer.

With one quick last look, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. When she turned toward the R.A.’s room, she came face-to-face with a girl with golden-blond hair and pale blue eyes, her complexion so perfect she could have been a model for a cosmetics company.

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you and what were you doing in Rachel’s room?”

Taken aback and feeling like a thief, Deme clutched her middle to keep the picture from falling from beneath her shirt. She forced a smile and straightened, throwing her shoulders back. She still had to look up at the young woman, who was just a bit taller than Deme’s five feet nine inches. “I’m Deme Jones, the new R.A. And you are?”

“Zoe Adams. President of the Gamma Omegas.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “When did we get a new R.A.? Why wasn’t I informed?”

Deme’s fingers tightened into fists as she struggled to resist the urge to punch this princess right in the face and make a mess of her perfectly upturned nose. “Perhaps the college president didn’t feel it necessary to consult you before hiring me.”

“We’ll see about that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You didn’t answer my question. What were you doing in Rachel’s room?”

“If I’m not mistaken, which I rarely am, you are rude and the room is not only Rachel’s but Aurai Chattox’s, as well. I was inside looking to see if our missing girl has returned. Since she hasn’t, I was looking for her emergency data.”

“And you don’t have that on file?”

Caught. Deme didn’t let the Amazon flap her. Instead she smiled. “I have emergency data for everyone but her. As president of the Gamma Omegas, you don’t happen to have her emergency data, do you?” Deme tipped her head, allowing a smug smile to turn up the corners of her lips.

Zoe’s lips remained firmly pressed, her eyes narrowing even more. “She’s not a Gamma Omega. She just lives here. And don’t unpack your bags. Things are likely to change.”

Deme met her stare for stare. “Count on it.” Before Zoe could come up with a retort, Deme spun on her heels and left the younger girl standing there, her mouth open.

As she rounded the corner, a hand reached out and snagged her arm, pulling her through an open doorway.

Once she was inside the dorm room, the door closed behind her.

Deme rounded on the girl, and gasped. This new girl was almost a clone of Zoe. The same tall stature, golden-blond hair and model-perfect figure. If not for the eye color, Deme might not have recognized a difference.

When Deme opened her mouth to demand an explanation for her pulling her inside her room, she stopped.

The blonde pressed a finger to her lips and leaned her ear against the door.

Deme let her fingers rest against the wall, feeling every vibration down to those of footsteps resounding in the corridor.

When the vibrations faded, she focused her attention on the girl, whose gray eyes were wide, her hands shaking. “You can’t let Zoe know we talked.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Shelby. Shelby Cramer.”

“Why all the secrecy? Why didn’t you just talk to me in the corridor?”

Shelby shook her head, her face pale. “Zoe can’t know.”

“Why? Will she boot you out of the sorority?”

The girl nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Something like that.”

“So, spill. What’s so important you can’t say it in front of the sorority prez?”

Shelby’s hands twisted together and she couldn’t meet Deme’s eyes. “It’s just…well…” She sighed and let her hands fall to her sides. “Just be careful, will you? Zoe can be a real force to be reckoned with when she decides she doesn’t like you.”

Deme smiled. “I can handle Zoe. Question is, can you?”

Shelby’s eyes swam with unshed tears. “No.”

A knock sounded on Shelby’s door and her eyes rounded. “You have to hide,” she whispered, grabbing Deme’s arm and hauling her with surprising strength toward the closet.

Because the girl was obviously petrified of being discovered harboring the new R.A., Deme allowed her to shove her into the closet and close the door.

The door to the room squeaked open.

“Shelby, have you seen the new R.A.?” Zoe asked.

“No,” Shelby’s voice quavered.

“Just remember, part of initiation into the Gamma Omegas is your vow of silence.”

“I remember,” Shelby said, her voice so soft Deme wouldn’t have heard if sounds didn’t echo so well off the linoleum tiles.

“Now that you’re one of us, you don’t want to go back, do you?”

For a second, Shelby hesitated, then she answered, “No, of course not. Who would?”

“Exactly. No one wants to go back. Nobody can.”

Silence followed.

“Well, if you see the R.A., let me know what she says and does.”

“I will,” Shelby responded.

The door squeaked open and closed again. The room was silent except for the soft vibrations Deme could feel through her shoes, vibrations caused by bare feet on hard floors. The closet door opened.

Deme blinked as she stepped from the dark closet into the brightly lit room. “What was all that about?” she added softly.

Shelby shook her head. “Nothing. It was a mistake to bring you in here.”

“No, it wasn’t. You obviously had something you wanted to tell me.”

“No. It’s not important. You have to go now.” She gathered her toothbrush and a hand towel and opened the door, peering out into the hall.

“Shelby, you can trust me. I’d never tell Zoe anything you told me in confidence.”

“I have nothing to say.” She held the door and motioned for Deme to leave. Once Deme stepped out into the corridor, Shelby followed and closed the door behind them, then hurried toward the bathroom.

Deme retraced her footsteps to the R.A.’s room, wondering what had just happened, determined to get a background check on Zoe Adams. If anyone was crazy enough to make off with a coed, Zoe would be top of her list.

Back at the campus, Cal parked his motorcycle outside the Gamma Omega dorm. Despite his determination to remain focused on the case, he couldn’t help the way his pulse raced at the thought of seeing Deme again. He called himself all kinds of fool for letting her influence him in any way.

She was like an accident. A hit-and-run ready for a repeat performance where he was concerned. Only this time he’d be ready. He wouldn’t let her leave him scratching his head, wondering what the heck he’d said or done wrong.

He took the steps in the stairwell two at a time to the second floor, where Brigid said Deme’s room was. He’d told her he’d be there at six o’clock to fill her in on what he’d learned that day and vice versa.

Question was, would she be there? Now that she knew she’d be working this case with him, would she bother to show up?

Since the missing person was her sister, Cal figured she would. Deme struck him as someone dedicated to her family, even if she wasn’t dedicated to her lover.

Outside the door marked R.A., he raised his fist to knock.

“Don’t bother, I’m here.” Deme’s voice caught him off guard, sending a wave of heat through his body. When he turned, he couldn’t stop the way his groin tightened at the way she looked.

Her red hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and the V of her button-down cotton blouse exposed the rounded swells of her breasts. Breasts he’d tasted, massaged and caressed long into the nights they’d shared.

Damn, this assignment was going to be a lot harder than he’d anticipated. Tamping down his libido, he stepped to the side as she pulled a ring of keys from her pocket and opened the door.

She walked in without looking back, holding the door just long enough for him to step through.

Once inside, she shut the door and walked several steps away, putting as much distance between them as the tiny room allowed. She leaned against the windowsill overlooking a garden and asked, “What have you found out?”

In the hallway, she’d been a turn-on. Inside the tight confines of the R.A.’s small room, her nearness sparked a lot more flames than even Cal could predict. He tugged the zipper of his leather jacket down, opening it to let in cooler air. Anything to lessen the heat rising inside. “There have been more incidents than just your sister’s disappearance.”

Deme’s eyebrows rose. Her gaze captured his. “What kind of incidents?”

“Two cases of attempted rape, two cases of attempted suicide and one other missing person besides your sister.” He glanced around the room. “Could you turn the thermostat down? It’s hellacious hot in here.” He stripped his jacket from his shoulders and slung it over a chair.

Her gaze shifted from his eyes downward over his shoulders and chest, the heat in the room rising the lower she went. “I haven’t touched the thermostat. It was on seventy when I left the room a while ago.” She crossed to the device on the wall beside him and studied the box. “Still seventy. Must be you.” Her eyes slid sideways.

“No, I think it’s you.” Cal didn’t know what came over him. All he knew was that he had to have his hands on her. He grabbed Deme and pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her hands rested flat against his chest, barely applying any pressure as though she was torn between dragging him close or pushing him away. “We don’t have to pretend in here. There’s no one watching.”

“Who’s pretending?” His hands slipped lower, circling her hips, slamming her against the hard ridge of his erection. “Can’t you feel it?”

She nodded, her eyes glazed, her tongue sweeping across her lips. Her hands slipped up his back, beneath his shirt, her fingernails digging into his skin.

The sharp pricks of pain only flamed his desire, flushing his senses with a need so powerful he couldn’t hold back.

His fingers found the hem of her shirt. Instead of working the buttons loose or slipping it up over her head, he ripped it up the front, buttons flying everywhere.

“That’ll cost you.” Deme pulled his shirt up over his head and flung it to the corner. She bent to take one of his hard, brown nipples between her teeth and nipped, hard.

Cal jerked back and slapped her bottom. “Two can play rough.”

In a flurry of motion, they stripped each other bare, hands roaming over naked skin. Cal lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, walking her backward until her naked back pressed against the window choked on the outside in ivy. “Miss me much?” he murmured as he trailed kisses and nips along her jawline and down the length of her throat. He tongued the pulse beating frantically at the base of her neck.

“No.” Her fingernails dug into his back, piercing skin, drawing blood. “I can’t miss you. We have no future together.” Her head leaned back against the glass, her breasts pressing against him.

“Who said I want a future with you now?” He shoved her up high enough to take a nipple into his mouth, biting down hard enough to elicit a gasp. Wicked satisfaction spread through him with the flame of desire. He wanted to cause her pain. Wanted to see her suffer as she’d made him suffer with her disappearance. “Is that why you left? You couldn’t picture a future with me?”

“I had good reasons to leave.” She sucked in a deep breath, her head lifting, her green-eyed gaze capturing his as her hands slid up to cup his face. “For the life of me I can’t remember one of them now.” She kissed him, her tongue thrusting into his mouth, taking his in a desperate tangle.

He lowered her over his cock, penetrating her in a hard, punishing thrust. Anger and desire merged to become a living, breathing entity within him, taking over his actions, destroying his self-control. He couldn’t stop himself from taking her, even if she’d said no.

His thrusts increased, until the glass in the window rattled.

Deme’s legs clamped hard around his waist, her body arching against his, taking him in as deeply as he could go until she cried out loud. Her body tensed around him as he slammed into her once more.

Just as he climaxed, he had enough sense to lift her off him at the last minute before he shot his seed into her womb.

Anger and desire still burned in his veins, but he didn’t have the strength to act on them. He let Deme slide down him until her feet touched the floor. His arms remained around her waist, his palms cupping her buttocks. Guilt flowed through him as he realized he couldn’t have stopped himself. If Deme had said no, he’d have raped her anyway. “What the hell just happened?”




Chapter 6


Deme stood with her back to the window, the thoughts in her head spinning like so much debris in an F5 tornado. The air in the room was thick, hard to breathe. “I don’t know. Just don’t let it happen again.” She pushed away from Cal and gathered her clothes.

Cal shoved a hand through his hair, standing it on end. “You weren’t fighting me.”

“Fine. I won’t let it happen again,” she reassured him, her lips firmly pressed into a line, even as her body tingled with awareness of his nakedness standing within reach. Inside, her blood raced through every organ, vein and the furthest reaches of her body, burning a path downward to her core. She ached with need and she still wanted him. Damn him! She turned away, gathering her clothing. “This isn’t about you and me.”

“I know. It’s about finding your sister.”

Deme faced him, pressing her jeans to her chest. “That’s right. This is about finding Aurai. It can only be about finding Aurai.”

“Message heard. It’s not as if I’m asking you to marry me. I learned my lesson. So don’t feel like you have to disappear again.”

That barb hit dead center and guilt burned in her gut. She drew herself up to her full five feet nine inches and faced him. “I had to leave. There are things you don’t know about me. Things you wouldn’t understand.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to understand. You didn’t give me a chance to get to know you.” Cal grabbed his jeans and slipped his legs into them, dragging them up his body. “I didn’t even know you had sisters. Seems like something a lover should know about the woman he’s sleeping with. The woman he proposes to.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/elle-james/the-witch-s-initiation/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.