Arcane Kiss (Talents Book 1) Read online

  He had a point. Gen rubbed her aching forehead. Her temples banged and she felt the last dregs of energy from her adrenaline jag vanishing like water down a drain. “Maybe once I get some sleep.”

  “I can make up the guest room for you.”

  Sawyer gave Kurt a flat look. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think that’s a good idea. The department can…”

  Kurt glowered right back. “Fight off a polar bear -- while investigating Dad’s murder?”

  “Because you guys did such a good job of spotting the killers before they left the park,” Dave said sweetly. “Assuming they have.”

  “Well, there’s always Nolan.”

  “Working as a team, Dave, Jake and I might be able to take the bear down. Him alone, not so much.” Kurt shook his head. “The sheer power the killer had… Yeah, polar bears are the world’s biggest land predator, but he seemed to have even more juice than that.”

  Genevieve stared at the glowing bear on the nearest screen. “There were three levels to that spell. Maybe one of them amplified his magic.”

  “Then you definitely need Feral backup,” Dave told her.

  She sighed and yielded to the inevitable. “Sounds like it. I’d appreciate the help.”

  Kurt smiled. Just for a moment, his gold eyes glowed so brightly, she wasn’t quite sure his intentions were as innocent as all that.

  And why the hell do I find that idea so intriguing?

  Chapter Seven

  Kurt’s home sat on the back of the BFS property, a sprawling Victorian farmhouse that looked like something out of an old Western. The porch lights were on, revealing a wide wrap-around porch. The house’s wooden siding was a soft gray with a hint of green, a shade that would match the bark of the surrounding pines in daylight, while the shutters and trim were slate gray. A sense of weathered peace surrounded the place, as if it were part of nature rather than a man-made construction.

  “What a gorgeous house,” Genevieve told Kurt as they walked up the short paved drive, Dave pacing beside them.

  “Thanks. My great-great grandfather built the house at the turn of the twentieth century after Colton Faraday gave him the surrounding hundred acres of farmland for moving to Laurelton.” Kurt moved to unlock the door.

  “Faraday? The Arcanist railroad guy?”

  “Right. He dreamed of turning Laurelton into a haven for Southern Talents, so he bought up a bunch of farmland and went recruiting. The town was just a wide space in the road then, so it wasn’t hard. We’ve still got more Talents per capita than any other city in South Carolina.” Pushing the door open, Kurt started inside, only to stop in mid-step. “You know, I think I’d better check the house. Hang on a minute.”

  “Make it fast,” Dave told him. “I feel this burning sensation on the back of my head. Kinda like a laser sight.”

  Kurt snorted and vanished. Five minutes later he was back to open the door again. “Nothing,” he said, as he stepped back to let them enter.

  Gen entered to find herself in a short narrow hall that led to a flight of stairs. Faded rugs covered the dark wooden floor, and a big framed photograph of a lion hung on one wall. The air smelled faintly musty in a way she associated with old houses.

  Kurt flipped the deadbolt and hung his keys on a pegboard by the door. “You want anything? Soft drink or whatever?”

  “The only thing I need is a horizontal surface.”

  “I’ll make up the guest room.” He turned to the tiger. “Dave, mind playing bodyguard for an hour or so? I’ve got to take care of Stoli. I can’t just leave him draped over the bleachers.”

  “How the hell are you going to get him down? He outweighs me.”

  “I’ll text Jake, see if we can get some of the cops to help. We need to get Stoli into the refrigeration unit until the vet can get that bullet for Sawyer.”

  “Okay. Sure.” Dave’s whiskers drooped. “Yeah, I’ll be glad to hang out with Gen.”

  “Thanks. Give me a minute to take care of the bedroom.” He pulled out his phone and started texting as he took the stairs at the end of the hall.

  Gen watched him go, blinking eyes that stung as she imagined the job that faced him in the arena. “Think they’ll have moved Fred yet?”

  “I have no idea. I do know it feels really weird handling your Familiar’s body when he’s now in yours instead. It’s kind of like a sneak preview of being dead.”

  Gen winced.

  Shortly Kurt descended the stairs again, headed for the door with the grim air of a man headed to an ugly job. “Good night, Gen.”

  “Is Jake going to be able to help?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  When he was gone, Dave shook his great head and padded off down the narrow hall, the wooden floor creaking under his weight. “I need some water. Sure you don’t want anything?”

  “I’m good.” She followed him.

  The tiger walked into the darkened kitchen. An arm thrust out of his striped back, reached up, flicked on the lights, and disappeared again.

  Genevieve looked around at the kitchen. A double oven, a massive refrigerator, and a dishwasher, all stainless steel, stood between white cupboards with gleaming black counter tops. Copper-bottomed pots hung from a ceiling rack over an island bar that served as a breakfast table. “This looks a lot newer than I expected.”

  “Fred renovated it for Kurt’s mom.” He grimaced. “Trying to make up for the fact that she did not get along with Lahr, his lion. She’d threatened to walk.” His eyes narrowed. “Some singing was probably involved.”

  “Fred could sing?”

  “No, but Kurt’s mom did.”

  Normally Gen would have asked what he meant by that, but just now she didn’t much care. “I can’t believe this.” She climbed up on one of the black leather bar stools around the central island. “One minute I was talking to Fred about Parvati. Next thing I know, he’s dead.” She sighed. “And I liked him, damn it.”

  “Fred was a hell of a man. I’m going to miss him.” Dave headed for the kitchen sink. “Though I have to admit he could be a son of a bitch at times. God knows he complicated the shit out of Kurt’s love life.”

  “How so?”

  “By trying to keep his son from making the same mistakes he did.”

  “Are you being intentionally mysterious?”

  “Nah, just an intentional pain in the ass.” All the teeth in that grin were downright terrifying. “It’s my superpower.” Rising onto his hind legs, he braced his forepaws on the sink. Again, the glowing hand emerged, opened a cupboard and pulled out a bowl, put it in the stainless-steel sink and turned on the tap. “Mind setting the bowl down for me so it won’t splash everywhere?” His voice dropped to a grumble. “Being a quadruped is a pain in my striped ass.”

  “Oh. Of course.” She hopped down to reach past him and pick it up. But when she started to carry it back to the bar, Dave laid a big paw on her wrist.

  “I need it on the floor. I’m not exactly built for stools -- and the stools are sure as hell not built for six hundred pounds of me.”

  Gen put the bowl where he indicated and took her seat again, watching as he settled onto his belly and started lapping. “How long have you known Kurt?”

  “Ten years now. Met him in Arcane Corps basic training. Our tigers -- Stoli and Smilodon -- were brothers,” Dave said as he lapped. Since he produced his voice magically, he could drink and talk at the same time. “I don’t mind telling you, at first I hated his guts.”

  “Why?”

  “He was my competition. The Arcane Corps only takes the most physically fit, mentally qualified, and magically talented Ferals. Particularly when it comes to getting one of the really big predators like a lion, a tiger or a bear.”

  And it was always predators, she knew. “When I was a kid, I always fantasized about being a Feral with a horse Familiar.”

  Dave looked up, gold eyes round and appalled. “Oh, God, no.”

  “Hey, people rode hors
es into combat for thousands of years.”

  “You grew up reading Black Beauty, didn’t you?”

  “It shows?”

  “You do know the whole point of spirit linking a human to an animal is to gain abilities humans don’t have?”

  “Like claws, fangs and several hundred pounds of muscle.”

  “Plus the psychological qualities of their Familiars. If the animal’s instinctive response to threats is to run away -- which is precisely what horses have evolved to do -- you can actually end up making a soldier less effective than he would have been alone. Which is the exact opposite of what the Arcane Corps is going for.”

  “I know -- Dad explained it. But at twelve, I didn’t give a damn. I wanted a horse Familiar. Much cooler magic than spending hours with a sketch pad.”

  “Well, spirit linking is pretty amazing.” Dave flopped down on his belly, then stretched out his forelegs, looking like the world’s biggest house cat. “The Corps put us through hell trying to find out which of us was the most deserving of the best Familiars. Out of the two hundred Ferals in our class that year, only eight of us got a big predator, though another fifty got wolves and smaller cats like pumas and jaguars. Kurt and I ended up magically bonded to littermates, so the Corps assigned us to the same Feral team. Along with Jake Nolan and his brother, Bobby, who got a pair of lions.”

  “That brings up a point that has always bugged me,” Genevieve said, propping a foot on the stool so she could drape an arm across her knee. “Fred spent a lot of time cussing Parvati’s original owner for breeding cubs to use as props. But how is that different from breeding them to use as weapons? I mean, you’re risking the cats’ lives, right? Even if Familiars don’t go into combat, their Feral partners do.”

  That was actually more for the safety of the soldiers than the Familiars, because if the human partner died, the Familiar might turn on his teammates. Familiars did need to be kept fairly close, of course -- within a few miles -- in order for the spirit link to operate. That usually meant being transported in an aircraft just within range. Which meant that though they technically weren’t in combat, they couldn’t be said to be safe either.

  Dave paused so long, Gen started wondering if she’d offended him. Finally he said, “Yeeeah… but Feral animals aren’t just animals. They’re the product of rituals and selective breeding that make them the most intelligent creatures on the planet this side of humans. They crave spirit links as much as we do. Another thing: the life expectancy of a tiger is only about twenty years. Familiars get to live three times longer than they otherwise would by sharing their human’s body after theirs die.”

  Gen stared at him. “But… does that mean you…”

  “Only have about ten more years?” He shrugged. “Still ten more years than I would have had.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Which doesn’t mean I’m happy about it,” Dave said. “In fact, I’m pretty much the poster child when it comes to the dangers of dealing with a newly melded tiger Feral. That’s how I died.”

  A chill rolled over her. “What?”

  “Bobby’s cat was killed when his plane was shot down during a mission. He melded with Selena’s spirit as she died, so she wasn’t lost. Unfortunately, then he had to deal with the same psychological adjustment Kurt faces now. It’s not easy to deal with having somebody else in your head 24/7.”

  “But I thought that’s what a spirit link is.”

  “Not entirely. When you and your Familiar are two separate physical beings, there’s still some distance. You link only when one of you reaches out. Once you’ve melded, he’s there all the time.”

  “Yeah, I can see how that would be an adjustment.”

  “At first, it went pretty well. Bobby seemed to be handling the transition, and a couple of months later, the shrinks cleared him to go out on a mission.”

  He rested his big head on his forepaws. “HQ sent us into these caves on the borders between Afghanistan and Pakistan…”

  “Where they thought Osama bin Laden was hiding?”

  He tilted his head. “Different network of caves, but basically, yeah. Our target was an Arc terrorist. The bastard created some of the most vicious magical traps I’ve ever seen.” He stared into the distance, his golden eyes very wide with remembered pain. “Bobby managed to walk right into one of them. This trap was designed to flood him with murderous rage. Which it did, just as I bumped into him.”

  “Oh,” Genevieve winced. “Oh, crap.”

  “Yeah. Bobby manifested his cat, whirled on me, and went for my throat in a magic-induced rage. Snapped my neck like a twig before I could even think about manifesting Smilodon. It was all I could do to meld with my cat in time, or I’d be gone.”

  She stared at him, not sure what to say. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It gets worse. The minute I was down, Bobby went after Jake and Kurt. Jake was so shocked at what his brother had done, he was late getting up his manifestation. He’d have died too, but Kurt shot Bobby about half a heartbeat before he could rip out his brother’s throat. And none of us have ever gotten over it. Kurt still feels guilty.”

  “But why? It sounds as if Bobby would have killed Jake.”

  “Kurt grew up with them. They were his best friends. He did what he had to do, but he keeps thinking he should have manifested, fought Bobby off, maybe bought him time to regain control. And he blames himself for not being fast enough to keep Bobby from killing me.”

  “Somebody needs to buy that man a red cape with a big S.”

  “Yup. That’s the problem with being raised by a saint. Especially one that could be a little bit of a son of a bitch.”

  Genevieve shook her head. “All these tragedies in his life, brought about by Arcs. I’m surprised he kissed me.”

  Dave snorted. “Even Fred knew you’re nothing like those bastards. For one thing, you volunteered your very valuable skills to heal Parvati. That gets you automatic good people points.”

  God, I hope so. Then she frowned, wondering why she wanted Kurt to see her as different from the Arcanists who’d inflicted so much pain in his life. What difference did it make? It wasn’t as if he was a friend…

  But I’d like him to be.

  * * *

  Kurt stroked a hand over Stoli’s big head. The cat’s eyes were fixed, glassy, and his tongue protruded from his mouth. His fur felt thick and coarse under his hand, without the vital warmth Kurt associated with the tiger since the first time he’d touched him ten years ago.

  He sat in the magic circle, the two-month-old cub a warm, furry weight in his arms. Glowing arcane sigils rotated through the air around them as amber eyes met his. Eager. Longing.

  The cub’s magic swirled against his, tender as a breath. Awe rose in Kurt as he touched Stoli’s almost human intelligence. They flowed together, life force twining with life force, forming a mystic braid not even death could break.

  Suddenly Kurt was looking up at himself, and he and the cub were one.

  And now that part of Stoli was gone.

  Kurt set his teeth and turned toward Jake and the four cops who’d volunteered to help. The two Ferals could have managed the weight, but the tiger’s long body would be almost impossible to maneuver without help. “Let’s get this done.”

  Kurt took his Familiar’s head while Jake lifted his hindquarters and the cops helped steady him. Together, they made their way carefully down over the bleachers toward Jake’s pickup for the trip to the Cat Clinic.

  In the depths of his mind, Stoli moaned.

  * * *

  The guest bedroom was located at the top of the stairs, up the hall from Kurt’s and the master that had been his father’s. It was almost painfully neat, though sparsely furnished, with a double bed, a chest of drawers, and a mirrored bureau, all of sturdy pine. The bed was so tightly made, it looked as if you could bounce a quarter off the spread. Apparently Kurt had never gotten out of the habit of making a bed the way he’d been taught in the Corps.

&nb
sp; “Want a shower?” Dave asked. “I’ll wash your back.”

  “I have a rule,” Gen told him, “I only have sex with people who have the same number of legs.”

  “You’re no fun. Seriously, bathroom’s the next door on the right.”

  “I doubt I could stay awake through it. I’d probably end up water-boarding myself.” More softly she added, “Thank you for helping me with… everything.”

  “We’re the ones who owe you. Especially if you can help us catch these bastards.” Then he padded out. “Good night, Genevieve.”

  “Good night.” Throat tight, she closed the door behind him. And thought of Kurt and Fred and Stoli, of Bobby Nolan and Dave.

  God, what a mess.

  * * *

  Kurt came to her in the darkness, his mouth finding hers in a rush of masculine heat and animal passion. Need exploded in her in a conflagration that sent her awareness ablaze.

  Her arms snapped up, wrapping around his shoulders, feeling the warm roll of muscle under his skin. The springy hair on his chest teased her nipples, and she gasped as his mouth moved on hers, his tongue thrusting deep in slow, luscious strokes, suggestive and primal.

  “God, Kurt…” It had been so long, so very long since she’d had a lover. Loneliness had made her nights as hollow as bells, nothing inside but ringing emptiness.

  But Kurt filled her senses now, and her body cried out for his in desperate craving.

  His hands cupped her face, the skin on them rough with calluses, as he cradled her jaw.

  The length and weight of him pressed against her, so much bigger than she was. “Help me forget,” he breathed against her mouth. “I need you. I need you…”

  “Yeah, me too. I’ve been so lonely…” She surged upward, pressing up into his kiss as her hips pumped against his erection, silently begging. “So very lonely.”

  And he rolled right back at her, letting her feel the thick, engorged width of him pressing against her bare belly.

  Panting, he pulled out of the kiss, staring down at her. Those Feral gold eyes glowed in the room’s velvet dark, bright. Brighter.