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What the hell? Magic saturated this enclosed area without a wisp of it escaping. This was powerful magic. It required its creator to set up a working that affected all the people in an area. I guessed it was set to run for a predetermined time. All of this had been set up in such a way I hadn’t noticed it until I walked into it.
My geas was a kind of working and anyone with magical talent could tell I had it on me on sight. This subtle power was scary- this was heavy-duty magic that was hidden to perfection.
Obvious was always easier to deal with.
Struggling with the emotional overload, I stopped and posed at the door, stalling for a moment to accustom myself and deal with the effect. Next to me, Chance’s smile gleamed wide, completely unlike his natural smile. He had a talent like mine, though better controlled. This must have blindsided him. He’d never have been so obvious about covering his reaction with a smile otherwise.
Steve secured me to his side, his arm tight around my waist. Desire grew in him as well, pulsing into me through his arm and hand. We moved forward as several strangers approached, led by two men, both fashionably dressed, both unmistakably wealthy. The taller smiled at Steve, a predatory glint in his eye. His hand caught my chin and tilted it up.
I stiffened and focused on what was near me, swearing in my head. I fought the rush of predatory hunger, violence bubbling, greed bubbling out of him through the contact—the intensity alarmed me. His emotions were oddly twisted; while the hunger was sexual, it had an edge to it I’d never encountered. Not possessed, but heavily influenced by the working.
“Nice legs, but she lacks tits,” said the shorter of the two, assessing me.
Joan’s voice cut across the moment, childish and light but somehow arresting. “Jorge? You’re here? I haven’t seen you in ages!” In a flutter of yellow, she stood next to me. Her tiara slipped again, dropping on the shorter man’s shoulder as she bumped into the other man’s arm, making him drop his grip to keep his balance.
“Who invited you, Joan? When did you get out of school?” Jorge asked as he offered her jewelry back.
“Magda!” Her cheeks red, Joan laughed, then attached herself to Chance’s arm. “This is Chance! I met him in DC! He’s from the Reborn Kingdom!” She punctuated her excited chatter with wide gestures, and I took another step back to avoid being slapped by accident. The glitter in her eyes, hectic and wild, alarmed me—her conversation felt like it was by rote.
My talent decided I needed to savor every emotion in the room. I gasped.
Between the rock of Steve’s growing excitement and the hard place of lust permeating the air, my thoughts became slow and difficult. There was something else in this room, something dark and hungry. Not Steve, but it was close to us. I couldn’t pinpoint it without touching, and I didn’t want to do any more touching in this atmosphere.
Steve wasn’t paying attention to obstacles as he pulled me deeper into the room. I dug in my heels just before I hit the back of an occupied divan. My heels skidded on the floor and I ended up out of Steve’s grip, fighting for balance. I grabbed the back of the divan to keep from pitching over it.
A man's head popped up, expression surprised.
Chance and Steve nearly collided as they stepped forward to steady me. Joan had stepped forward to help too, then turned away, her fair skin reddening.
Heh. She wasn’t used to seeing people having sex, was she? I wasn’t either, but I had a job to do.
Chance spared her a pat on the shoulder. His brow wrinkled, probably from the effort of not giving stage directions to the people entwined on the couch. Sarcasm about the aesthetics of their bodies and actions would be his first reaction, and would help distract him from the press of emotions here.
I knew I needed the distraction. A deep breath later, I knew with certainty there was only one person in the room I could vent the lust with. Chance, because the universe had a sense of humor. My fidelity to Walker was unthreatened, even under this stress.
Chance would be like sex with my brother.
Spread languidly over the cushions on the couch, Melissa Cohen was engaged with two young men, one fair, one dark. Her golden eyes glittered as they met mine through lowered lashes—like most of these attendees, she was flying high. She leaned up on an elbow, exposing a breast, and took a sip from her golden-tinged drink.
Mockery danced in her eyes, with an edge that chilled me. It was like a totally different woman lay in front of me, but I could only feel her, same as she’d been when she and her mother spoke with Elise.
Gooseflesh rose on my arms as a burst of power flooded the working. Too much magic packed into this space. I panted.
With all the horniness here, I’d have Walker up against the wall in seconds. But this was artificial and being forced on me. I’d never thought I’d be thankful for the geas’ jabs of pain– I didn’t want sex with anyone here, despite the urges cascading through me. I also couldn’t form words quite yet, not until the power lessened.
“Are introductions in order, or is this a casual gathering?” Chance asked Steve.
“I’m Melissa. A bit busy now.” She murmured the words, then sighed. “But we can chat later.”
Her voice rolled over me, increasing the pressure and desire even more. I shivered. The magic- or my own inclination it was hard to tell- made me want to join them on the couch.
Another jab from the geas helped clear my head.
Chance jerked and caught himself as he started to take a step forward.
My hands twitched. I should touch her and confirm she was the source of this working. If she carried the Wendigo in her. But prudence, a new acquaintance, whispered that a hole of hunger like the Wendigo’s could swallow my self-control entirely. The demon encounter had taught me some limits.
Chance was rigid with the effort to control himself. Joan moved to his side, kissing his surprised mouth when he turned. Green-gray eyes astounded, he cradled her against him, taking a few steps back toward the wall. His movement was made more complicated by her nimble hands.
