Page 18 of Unhinged Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #2)

Skye

My blood ran cold as the sound of glass smashing echoed throughout the manor. I dragged my gaze from the front door after Wesley’s hasty exit, lifting my finger off the Ouija board and rising to my feet. If he was outside, and I was in here, then what the hell made that sound?

My footsteps fell soundlessly as I made my way closer to a door leading off the side of the living area.

Having explored this place as a child, (if I remember correctly), it led to a short hall to what was once a main bedroom.

I gripped the doorframe as I entered the darkened hallway, noting it was vacant.

Edging one foot in front of the other, a shiver prickled my skin as I followed my instincts to where I thought the noise had come from.

Pausing outside the room in question, I stilled, listening.

“Is anyone there?” I asked into a deafening silence.

Nudging forward, I wrapped my hand around the door handle, pushing it open fully. The slow creak sounded eerily like an invitation, an incantation pulling me forward.

On the timber floorboards in the middle of the room lay what looked like a photo frame, face down, shards of glass splayed across the floor.

Confusion rifted throughout me, my gaze swerving to every wall where I saw no picture hooks.

Approaching the scattered mess, I bent to pick up the frame, careful to not cut myself as I turned it over in my hand.

The remaining glass slipped out and onto the floor.

I jumped back, holding it away from me until all that remained was a black-and-white photo of a man and woman.

She wore a long black dress, pinched at the waist, her dark hair tied back with a ribbon.

The man’s slacks were neatly pressed at the front, a white shirt on his upper half, fixed with suspenders.

They stood outside what looked like this manor, only not the way I knew it.

This manor had a slick coat of white paint with shutters framing each window.

A far cry from the abandoned, lifeless structure it was now.

The photo held me captive as I studied the couple staring back at me, even when I knew they were looking at a camera. I wondered who was taking the photo: a photographer, a family member, a child? There was something oddly familiar about the man’s eyes, but that made no sense.

Hurried thuds sounded before Wesley’s frame rushed through the door, looking expectantly around the room.

“Areyouok?” The words barreled out of him so fast they all jumbled into one.

I didn’t know what to say. How to explain the photo in my hand.

To another person who saw spirits, this kind of thing would be an easy sell.

I had heard about this happening before, spirits sending messages rather than showing themselves, but this was Wesley, and I wasn’t sure how far his realm of awareness extended regarding ghosts.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This just fell.”

His gaze moved to the photo in my hand, his frown deepening as he searched all four walls, just as I had. “From where?”

I shrugged, unsure of what to say. “I’m not sure.”

He eyed the glass laying on the floor in the center of the room. “Fell,” he repeated, studying my face as if it would summon more information.

“I mean, I guess.” I pointed to the middle of the room at the evidence scattered on the floorboards. “It was right there.”

He came closer, silence ensuing.

A thin layer of dust settled over the photo. Coming closer, he swiped a streak through it with his thumb. “A day ago, I would never have said this.” He pointed to the photo. “But that woman looks like she could be a relative of yours.”

Frowning, I studied her closer. “You think?” I understood his reasons. In some ways, she looked a little like me, with similar features I guess, but not enough to convince me.

He shrugged, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“There’s just something about her, this is so…

” He suddenly jerked his head to the door.

“Someone’s coming,” he said on an urgent rasp.

Wrapping his hand around my free one, he tugged me out of the room and into the hallway. His steely tone made my stomach sink.

“Someone as in?”

He turned his attention to me, a finger to his lips.

As we entered the living room, he turned, cupping my face in his hands.

“Go to the closet. Hide,” he urged, motioning toward a door in the living room.

I had never seen Wesley like this before, shadows of the forest darkening his irises into something that made me not question his intentions. He was dead serious.

I whipped my hand in the air, exhausting the candles before he helped scoop them into my bag.

Heading to the closet, I pulled the door open, squeezing inside.

Wesley followed close behind. The manipulation of limbs as he slid inside the tight space with me caused his chest to press into my back.

There was barely room to move, our breathing a chaotic whisper in the cover of darkness, both confusion and uncertainty turning my heart into a stampede inside my chest.

“Who’s out there?” I whispered.

A shuffle sounded beside me, his voice low in my ear. “Vampires.”

My entire body stiffened, my pulse pounding . Vampires were notorious hunters, ruthless to the point that, if human blood wasn’t their flavor of the day, mated witch blood was their next best choice. Something about mated blood made them go feral for it.

Another low rasp behind me. “I’ve tried to block their senses with my magic. Stay still.”

“Tried?” I whisper-screeched.

I knew little about Wesley’s magic, only that he could sense other people’s magic.

But able to control other people’s senses like that?

I heard the uncertainty in his tone, hinting that this was possibly not something he did regularly, if at all.

I didn’t want to think about the consequences if it didn’t work.

A chill scraped the length of my spine as footsteps hit the porch, the groan of the front door as it creaked open confirming we were definitely not alone.

I peered through the closet door through the gaps in the slats, watching in silence as a male led a female inside by the hand.

They scanned the room they unknowingly occupied with us.

Wesley’s arm wrapped around the front of me, pulling me against him, as far back into the closet we could go.

The male made quick work of sliding his arms around the women’s waist, walking her backward until she fell against the wall. Her hands curled around his neck. They came together in a kiss that looked as if a century in waiting, a tumultuous riptide of everything between them laid bare.

“Holy shit.” My lips moved in shock. The display of affection obviously not supposed to be witnessed. Wesley’s magic was clearly doing its job.

My eyes widened to saucers as the stranger’s hand cupped the woman’s breast, dragging a moan from her which was quickly muffled by his mouth again. Another long, sensuous kiss.

I didn’t know where to look. This was a moment not to be shared.

I craned my neck to the side, tearing my gaze from them, my breath hitting Wesley’s cheek nestled behind me. His exhales came in deep, controlled glides. Confined to our tight space, I suddenly became aware of how intimate our situation had become.

In this proximity, there was no mistaking Wesley’s arousal against my back. He obviously wasn’t as freaked out by this as I was. When the pad of his thumb nudged my chin forward again, I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to. Fucking hell. Was he getting off on this? Was I getting off on this?

I batted his hand away, but he wound his fingers through mine, a low chuckle sounding in my ear.

The woman’s head tilted to the ceiling as the male kissed her neck, his hand travelling south. Down. Down . When his hands moved to the front of her pants, burying in her pussy, the woman let out a sound that hit deep within me.

I grappled for words. “This is so…”

“Hot?” Wesley whispered, his warm breath grazing my ear.

“Wrong,” I insisted, even when glorious sparks licked over every inch of my skin. Wesley’s fingers continued to slide through mine, tangling together, the subtle movement of his fingertips on my skin fueling a burning ache between my thighs.

His voice turned to a throaty gravel. “It’s not wrong, Skip. It’s nature.”

“We shouldn’t be watching,” I continued, although I found myself unable to look away. This stranger held her passion in his hands, caressing her as if it were his own heart, the whole scenario leaving me reeling.

Wesley’s hot breath hit the nape of my neck. “Tell me, if I did the same to you right now, would I find you soaked?”

My next breath bordered on a moan, his words bringing me to the edge of reason, right and wrong blurring into something I could no longer separate.

His hand travelled south, cupping my breast, caressing my nipple through the fabric of my sweater.

“We can’t do this…” I started, but couldn’t continue.

“Words, Skip. Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispered.

His hand slid slowly , giving me all the time in the world to object, but against every reason I had not to want this, I did. I wanted this so badly I could scream.

When he cupped my sex, I arched into his touch, need turning me into a pent-up thing searching for release.

Wesley slipped his hand down the front of my tights, sliding into my panties, the evidence of my arousal unable to deny.

A muffled, approving groan sounded from behind me. “I knew it. So damn wet for me.”

I didn’t doubt him, and between his cock pushed into my back, the vampire now feasting on the woman’s pussy, and the momentum building at Wesley’s touch, I was a flare ready to expel.

Wesley’s finger leisurely circled my clit, pulling my insides tighter, before dipping lower to sink into me. “You’re so tight, you feel so unreal,” he rasped, his breath tickling my ear.

I squirmed against his touch. “More,” I whimpered, and, within seconds, a second finger entered me.