In the Company of Witches

As she crossed into that space, temper sparked in Raina’s eyes. Even before he stepped in behind her, he detected why, because at that moment Isaac pinged on Mikhael’s internal radar. Focusing, he found the incubus had hit the perimeter of the property, and suffered the consequences of it. The magical barrier knocked the incubus completely out, a satisfying result that allowed Mikhael to keep his full attention on what was happening in this room. He’d deal with Isaac shortly—if Raina didn’t tear the young sex demon to shreds first.



It was obvious an incubus’s wild magic was at the hub of this situation, buried amid the chaos of fear and anger. An incubus not integrated into Raina’s spellwork for her staff. The residual of it swirled through the room still, punctuated by the hostility vibrating from the clientele. Compounding the problem was the fact they weren’t innocuous businessmen, but a group of trained servicemen. Isaac’s uncontrolled energy had also made it more difficult for the succubi to tone down their own charms. It was lucky Raina’s protections were as strong as they were, because otherwise Mikhael knew they would have been looking at a roomful of bodies.



He wanted to curse out loud. She’d been having a good day, had believed it would be safe. He’d told her it would be. Now she was angry with herself, which pissed him off. She was also mad at Isaac, which didn’t bug him as much. Maybe she wouldn’t mind him killing the little bastard now.



Stepping into the room behind her, he swept his glance over the soldiers. Their tension was targeted at the center of the room, where one of their buddies had a sidearm and was apparently caught up in a full-blown PTSD episode. A mixed blessing, because it had brought them back to their senses, somewhat, but they were still too messed up by Isaac’s disorienting vibes to be much help. Except they had shifted in front of the staff, automatically protecting civilians.



Mikhael focused on the man who had Li pushed to his knees, a lock on his neck, the gun pressed right against the incubus’s skull. A kill shot, even for a sex demon.



“Lawrence,” Raina said in a firm voice. “What are you doing?”



He turned pupils the size of pencil tips toward her. “He’s a fucking informant. He’s going to tell us what I want to know, or I’m going to shoot all his buddies there.” He nodded toward the others.



“Those are your buddies, and my staff, Lawrence. I need—”



“It’s not safe here. Come get behind me.”



She moved toward him while Mikhael bit down the urge to hiss. “You’re in Sweet Dreams, Lawrence. My house. You came to spend time with Gina and Marisa. Did you enjoy them?”



His brow furrowed. He was sweating and his finger trembled on the trigger of the gun. The gun was too close to Li for either Mikhael or Raina to make a move. Spellwork could be used, but they had a human audience, and the man was too worked up. By the time the spell was launched, that trigger finger could squeeze.



“They aren’t here,” Lawrence said. “Gina and Marisa aren’t…”



“Of course they are. They’re right there.” Raina gestured. Gina and Marisa emerged from the knot of sex demons. Gina wore a lavender corset and stockings that made her look like a sensual fairy. Marisa wore only a pair of thong panties. A lot of fragile pale skin, but at least they looked nothing like enemy combatants. Gina was bleeding from her temple, a clip from that gun. Mikhael gave both women credit for guts, if not brains, as they moved forward at Raina’s gesture. A couple of the soldiers moved as if they’d stop the girls, but Mikhael caught their attention with a sharp note in his throat, shook his head. He supported their intent, but Raina was right. This was her turf. They had to trust she knew what she was doing.



Li had his gaze fastened on her. The moment his mistress had entered the room, he’d looked less scared. They trusted her. Believed in her. Believed she could get them out of anything. People believed that only if she had actually proven it—repeatedly.



“You’re not in the field, soldier. You’re not in Afghanistan.” This came from one of his comrades. “You’re home. You’re pointing a gun at a civilian, threatening women.”



“Shut up.” Lawrence snarled. “Don’t try to confuse me.”



“He has no reason to lie to you, Lawrence,” Raina continued in that reasonable tone. “You know I have a strict rule about firearms above the first floor. The only weapon you bring up here”—her lips curled in a seductive smile—“is the one between your legs. Isn’t that right, Steve?”



She shot the soldier a meaningful look, and thank the gods, Steve picked up her direction. “Hell, yeah. But that’s probably why he had to bring the gun, Miss Raina. He’s not got much firepower down there.”



“Give him another beer,” came from another of the group. “Maybe it will pump it up.”



Lawrence’s gaze shifted. Their laughter, though a bit forced, held the camaraderie he knew. The men were getting their feet beneath them, trained to respond even when they weren’t at full capacity. They’d just needed the direction.



“No,” Lawrence said, but he looked uncertain. “No, it’s not safe. He said so. That skinny, pale guy said it wasn’t safe here, that the enemy is here, hiding, and no one’s safe.”



“Where is the skinny guy? Show him to me.” Raina gestured.



Lawrence’s gaze crawled over the room, desperate, showing his doubt of his present reality. “Not here. He’s not here now. He must have run.” His hand trembled.



“Please, don’t. Lawrence, you’re about to hurt someone I love. Please don’t.” Raina took several steps forward, and now there was just a pace between them. Mikhael gauged his distance. Hell with it. He’d use magic and worry about explanations to the humans later. But he’d feel a lot better about the chances for Li if Lawrence would shift the gun. Unfortunately, that could leave it pointed at Raina.



Magic was unleashed, but not his. Raina’s sexual energy unfurled, controlled, targeted. Lawrence’s attention fastened on her as she closed her fingers on his gun hand, stroked. Pushed it toward the ground. Li slid free as the human stared at Raina. Tentative, the soldier reached out, slid a hand along her face, cupped her neck, tightened, lust translating through the urgency of the grip. She held that inviting smile as, with the other hand, she gestured. Gina moved in to help the incubus, since Li was bleeding, limping.



“It’s all right,” she told Lawrence in that sultry purr. “You’re among friends.”



The ceiling fan, on an automatic timer, switched on, started to rotate. The male didn’t even blink, so spun up in Raina’s web, but the wind currents stirred up those lingering incubus vibes Isaac had disseminated. They infiltrated those more pleasant feelings Raina was using to fog Lawrence’s mind, confusing them. And a confused soldier, thinking he was in a combat situation, was a dangerous weapon.



Mikhael registered the second things changed for Lawrence, when the beautiful woman before him was no longer what Lawrence saw. The enemy had moved into his space. He shoved her back and the gun hand shot up, his finger squeezing the trigger, point-blank at her chest.



Raina lunged inside his guard, knocked his arm off center so the shot sizzled over the delicate juncture between throat and shoulder. In the next blink, Mikhael had control of his arm, forcing the gun up so the next projectile went into the ceiling. There were shouts and a short scream, and then Mikhael had him down on his stomach, Raina sitting on his other arm.



“Don’t hurt him,” she said.



The directive hadn’t been necessary. He had the male down, restrained, but wasn’t causing him any further distress. As he’d told her, he wasn’t that kind of monster. Though from what was roiling in his blood, he realized he might have become one if that bullet had found its target.



“It’s okay,” she murmured. “It’s all right.” When she put her hand on the man’s head, he realized, wryly, she wasn’t talking to him. “Easy, Lawrence. It’s all right.”



Under her touch, the man stopped struggling. Then he began to cry. From her stricken expression, Mikhael saw Raina would have shed tears, if she could. She sat on a man who’d witnessed brutality, who’d exercised it himself for a seemingly just cause, but right or wrong, it had happened because of the senseless cruelty and madness of the human world. Once a man was mired in that often enough, he knew it would never make sense, that the soul held so much darkness it was a wonder the world continued turning day after day and hope lived at all.



Raina knew that truth. Maybe it was why she understood Mikhael enough that it didn’t stop her from hanging out with him. An odd thought, one he wasn’t ready to examine at close range, feeling a little too much kinship with Lawrence under her stroking hand.



“I’ve got him, Miss Raina.” Steve knelt beside them. “I’m so sorry about this. He’s only been working the terminal with us a couple months, so he’s still figuring things out. We’ll pay for the ceiling. Let us take care of him.”



“I know. It’s not his fault, or yours. Take him downstairs; do what you need to do for him.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Get him the help he needs.”



Tucking the gun in the back of his jeans, Mikhael helped Steve and his buddies get Lawrence up. Raina turned her attention to Li and Gina. By the time he’d returned from the downstairs, she’d verified their wounds weren’t serious, not for their kind, and sent them for medical attention in the kitchen. She was opening the windows to air the room out.



He’d learned from Marisa that the next patrons weren’t due for an hour. There was blood on Raina’s shirt, but with the off-the-shoulder style, he saw the bullet’s track had been a graze, leaving no more than a burn mark. The blood was Gina’s, from her head wound. She must have hugged the girl. Even knowing that, he had to force himself to give Raina room, not to crowd her into a corner to touch it, check it, touch all of her. That gun going off, targeted at her chest, kept replaying in his mind.