Page 9

“It’s real,” Loren said. “Mordred and Penny charmed it for me. It won’t die unless the glass breaks.”

Darien smiled. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She was always making things these days; natural candles, body lotions, shower gels, and now keychains. He pinched the clasp open and attached the dome to the rest of his keys.

She returned his smile with a ducking of her head. “Will you go with me to my dad’s tomorrow night?”

“Of course, Loren. Of course I’ll go with you. You don’t even have to ask me that.”

She smiled, reaching for him with one hand, her books nearly toppling out of her other arm. He took her small fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“See you after school.” She blew him a kiss and shut the door.

Darien waited until she was safely through the gates before he lowered the emergency brake and pushed the gearshift into drive.

In the rear-view mirror, he saw the prick of an officer watching the car with a cold smirk, as if he could see right through the concealment spells. At least he wasn’t watching Loren.

What Darien wouldn’t give to smack that smirk off his face. If he were watching Loren, he would’ve done much worse than smack him.

Darien was about to drive away when he paused, his attention returning to Loren, just like always.

He was fucking gaga for her. He loved watching her walk, loved the shape of her tight, perfect ass in anything she was wearing. Especially skirts. What a knockout he’d ended up with.

As he watched her, he got an idea. A wicked one that made his blood electrify in his veins.

He closed his eyes. As he stirred his magic awake, the whites and irises were engulfed by the black of the Sight. He coaxed his power up to the surface of his mind, eyelids flying back open as he unleashed the force of it on his girlfriend.

Even from this far away, he could see Loren’s legs shake from the unbridled pleasure he threw onto her. Her knees buckled, and she slipped to the grass, barely catching herself before she could topple down the hill. Darien was impressed that she managed not to drop anything or fall flat to the ground, though her body visibly trembled. He kept his magic going until he was certain she’d fully climaxed before he reined it in, stamping it down to its place of rest.

An unholy grin spread across his face.

He’d wanted to do that since that night in the dining room all those months ago. Back when they’d barely known a thing about each other, but had wanted to get into each other’s pants all the same.

Even through the rain and the concealment spells on the car, Loren’s eyes still managed to find his. Her face was red with embarrassment, and her eyes brimmed with accusations—and a threat that he would hear about this later.

He was already looking forward to later.

Darien gave a dark laugh as he hit the accelerator and peeled out onto the street.

—

When the officer had told Darien to follow him to the precinct, the last place he’d expected to end up was at the headquarters of the Magical Protections Unit.

Darien had toyed with the warlock for a while, seeing how well his wimpy cruiser could keep up with him while maneuvering traffic. After easing off the accelerator, the warlock had still barely managed to get in front of him, but once he had, Darien had allowed him to lead the way through Angelthene’s North End, down six-lane highways lined with towering palm trees, flashy billboards, and flickering neon signs—and had driven right past the precinct. Although he was suspicious, Darien had continued to follow him, more out of curiosity than anything.

And the temptation that if the bastard were to try anything stupid, he’d get to find out what it felt like to bash his skull open after all.

Now, as the officer led the way through the immaculate headquarters of the MPU, around the desks that were occupied with people who sipped on coffee and jabbered into phones, Darien ignored the many probing gazes that tracked his every step.

The officer stopped at a closed door and gestured for Darien to open it. “After you,” the warlock drawled, a smug, infuriating smile plastered to his face.

Darien stifled the urge to punch his teeth down his throat. Now wasn’t the time, and it certainly wasn’t the place either. Though he might’ve walked a little closer to the officer than necessary as he passed him, taking delight in the way the warlock rocked back on his heels, clearly deciding whether the threat Darien posed was great enough to warrant sacrificing his pride by backing away.

It was Darien’s turn to smirk as he swung open the door and walked into the small office.

The person sitting behind the desk—a male warlock in his early thirties, with deeply suntanned skin, a trimmed beard, and short dark hair—made him pause.

Darien gave one slow blink, a muscle feathering in his jaw. The man promptly ended the call he was on, mumbling to the person on the other end that he would call them back, and hung up the landline.

“Finn fucking Solace.” Darien was just closing the door behind him when the detective spoke.