Just Beyond Daybreak (Star Crossed Book 1) Read online

  Gathering up the supplies she had piled next to her, she stood up and marched around to the edge of her bed. His eyes didn’t even twitch. “You better not be asleep,” Meredith said, kicking at the side of the mattress.

  He peeked through one blue eye at her before opening both eyes and sitting up. “Is that any way to treat the person who watched over you while you slept? Besides, I wasn’t sleeping. I was concentrating. Even you should know what that is, Sweetheart,” Malcolm said gruffly. Meredith rolled her eyes and turned to march out of the room. At least he was back to using his catch-all nickname for women and not calling her “Beautiful” anymore.

  “So you found all the stuff I need?”

  Pausing at the door, she glanced over her shoulder at him. He had stood up next to the bed and was stretching his arms up over his head. There were a few things better than just “concentrating” that Meredith could think of doing with him in the bed. The image of running her fingers over his bare chest drifted to her mind. She quickly shook the thought away and nodded. “Yeah, I found it all, but shouldn’t you need more than just rowan resin for a branding?”

  “Yeah, but I carry it with me everywhere I go,” Malcolm answered, lowering his arms.

  Meredith leaned against the door jam and asked, “So is this something you teach your students?”

  Shrugging, Malcolm flashed a lopsided smile. “I don’t teach much more than basics. Most of the people who want more advanced training don’t ask a Blackwood for it.”

  Lifting her eyebrow, Meredith smirked and left the unspoken question about his most recent student hanging in the air. His smile dropped a little and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Meredith almost expected him to kick his foot like he was a guilty five-year-old child again. “Anming’s family is a very traditional one. They only wanted her to learn certain things, but she got interested in different things.”

  “Interested?”

  “Yeah, and sex is a lot safer than the other options,” Malcolm answered flatly. Meredith could understand that. More than a few of the blowups and mishaps she had gone through during her training had injured herself and her mother. Maybe if Malcolm had been her teacher, she could have turned to sex too and saved herself from the bruises and burns. “And it was more fun.” Meredith just bet it was.

  Sex magic could be powerful or it could just be fun. It all depended on the partner. “The uncle seemed pretty upset,” she said.

  Malcolm pulled his hands from his pockets, straightening up and returning to his usual cocky self. Grabbing up his bag, he said, “Like I said, it’s a traditional family. So where’s your ritual space?” It was clear he was ready to drop the topic and Meredith let him.

  Turning her head away from him, she walked through the door. “It’s this way. I’m surprised you didn’t find it while you were roaming around,” she said, leading him through her living room and towards the small study where the safe was kept.

  Behind her, Malcolm let out a short laugh. “Na. I didn’t want to invade your privacy that much.”

  “Right,” she mumbled as she fumbled with the study door. Meredith often wondered why she had used a space so close to the safe as a ritual spot, but never questioned it enough to change it. She managed to flip on the light without dropping any of the stuff in her arms and stepped aside to let Malcolm walk in.

  Glancing around the room, she was relieved to see that it was just as she’d left it the day before. Silently she admitted that after the Dragon’s Eye went missing she always expected to find the room trashed or to see the thief returning to the scene of the crime. Of course, that hadn’t happened yet.

  In the corner, her bookshelves were crammed full and her writing desk was covered in papers. After seeing Malcolm’s place, she was happy she could at least contain the chaos. Aside from that corner, the room was rather orderly. She’d moved her most comfortable chairs and couch into the study and refused to lounge on books and papers the way Malcolm seemed to.

  She watched Malcolm walk into the clear space in front of the couch and chairs where Meredith would draw out her protective circle. Malcolm toed the circular rug and glanced back at her. “Anything under this rug?” he asked. Meredith just shook her head as she deposited the tools on a side table next to a chair. “Can we move it?”

  “Sure,” she said, bending down next to it. Her knees slid easily across the hardwood floor as she rolled the pale white rug up. Before she could lift it up and move it aside, Malcolm took it from her and effortlessly carried it to a corner. “So what do you need me to do?”

  Making his way towards the tools she had laid out on the table, Malcolm pointed to the middle of the clear space. “Just sit there and expose your left shoulder blade. I’ll take care of setup,” he answered.

  After stripping off her fitted black shirt Meredith was down to a camisole that just covered the top of her lacy bra. She dropped her clothes on the couch and moved to sit down in the spot Malcolm had pointed at. She noticed him setting the bowl on an odd tray that he must have had stashed away in his satchel. He placed a lit candle under it and she realized he was using it to heat the resin. “The necklace?” he said, hooking his finger underneath the sliver chain. The brush of his finger tip across the back of her neck sent a shiver through her and she could feel the tiny goosebumps prickling across her skin.

  “My grandmother left it to me. It has no magic, so it shouldn’t affect any of this,” she answered stubbornly, trying to ignore the slight tremble in her belly. Meredith hadn’t taken the small pink pendant off since the day her grandmother had fastened it around her neck at her last birthday. Meredith felt Malcolm’s finger move away from the chain and let her breathing begin to even out.

  As he walked around her, setting out the candles, Meredith tried to relax herself. Grounding her spiritual energy in place within the circle he created was an important part of most rituals. She took deep breaths in and let out slow long breaths. The feel of her body relaxing was like the calming wash of warm waves. Meredith reached downward with her energy and felt for the familiar connection that the Earth offered. It was a simple technique that she had learned as a small child and repeated before every ritual she had ever performed.

  Soon she was no longer tracking Malcolm as he set up around her. Evening out her breathing, Meredith lost focus on even the task of finding the missing Dragon’s Eye. The gentle brush of Malcolm’s potently flavored masculine energy against her back was no real surprise. Instead it felt like a comfortable companion to her own energy. She heard him make a small, painful hiss and knew that the ritual had begun. Unlike the movies and books that portrayed rhythmic chanting, Malcolm remained quiet except for that sound.

  Behind her she could hear the tink of the metal chopstick as it bumped against the bowl she had provided. Instinct more than real knowledge told her that Malcolm was mixing his own blood into the resin. The blood was to create a bond that would be the construction of the brand on her shoulder. She knew it, but she tried not to. A blood mark would create a deeper connection with Malcolm than she had agreed to, but she knew there really wasn’t another route at this point. Meredith also knew that Malcolm wouldn’t dare place the Blackwood crest on her. She hoped it was out of respect, but also knew it was more likely a dislike of his own family.

  The sudden touch of his fingertips against her skin nearly made her jump. She had been expecting the hot piercing feeling of the chopstick, but instead Malcolm’s fingertip slowly slid her camisole strap aside and began tracing over Meredith’s shoulder blade. She could make out the feel of a circle and several straight lines. The symbol was small, no bigger than the palm of her hand, she realized. Whatever shape the brand was taking was nothing as complex as the Blackwood crest.

  When she heard the metal tink of the aged chopstick against the small bowl, Meredith took in a calming breath and prepared herself for the searing mix of resin and blood. The tip of the stick pressed against her skin, sending a molten burn down her spine. Letting out a hiss of air through her teeth, Meredith fought to hold herself still.

  “Just be still and it’ll be done faster,” Malcolm whispered, his breath tickling the side of her neck. It was a thrilling contrast to the burning trail of the chopstick. The heat was pulled away, the circle complete, and she heard another tink as the chopstick dipped back into the melted brew.

  When the pointed tip touched her flesh again, Meredith found herself flinching from the pressure on the newly blistered area. Malcolm’s fingers wrapped around her upper arm, and it was then that she noticed she was shaking. With his firm hand holding her steady, Malcolm traced several more lines before Meredith heard the stick give a final tink as it fell against the bowl.

  Holding her back straight, Meredith closed her eyes in relief, but it was short lived. Malcolm’s soft looking lips felt like lit coal as he pressed a light kiss against the brand. In an old Aramaic dialect, he whispered, “My magic, your magic.” The ancient language slid across his tongue like silk, and Meredith let herself appreciate his smooth voice for a second.

  Just as the throbbing caught her attention again, Malcolm said, “Nearly done. Are you okay?”

  She nodded and answered, “Fine.” Slowly Meredith turned her head to catch a glance at the brand on her shoulder. She could just make out the upper crust of the circle. Moving her eyes up to look at Malcolm, Meredith wondered when she was supposed to get this extra magic and if she would even feel its arrival. “So it’s working?”

  Malcolm looked up from a cloth he was using to wipe the chopstick. “Almost,” he said, setting the silver stick down. “Just one more thing to do.”

  “Well, what’s that?” Meredith asked, turning her head back around. She was contemplating adjusting the camisole strap to cover the peek-a-boo of her bra when s
he was surprised by his hand taking hold of her unbranded shoulder and pulling her backwards. Meredith fell back and a sharp pain ran through her as his free hand caught the brand. He moved the other hand to cup her chin and tilted her head back. Then he was kissing her. For an instant it felt like Malcolm was stealing her very soul through his lips and she didn’t care. Instead she found herself wantonly kissing him back.

  She watched his half-closed eyes from the odd sideways, almost upside down, angle. This was not a gentle, innocent kiss. This was a lust-provoking tease of lips and tongue. The feel of his palm pressed against the raw brand on her shoulder was scorching, but Meredith couldn’t call it pain. A tingle of magic seemed to pass from his hand into her as their lips devoured each other.

  Realization that this was the connection Malcolm needed to link his power to hers set in, and some of the passion that had flared to life died away. As his lips slowly pulled away from her own, Meredith tried to mask her emotions. She fought back the urge to lean up for another kiss as she watched the tip of his tongue swipe over his top lip. “So, now it’s working?” Meredith asked, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with him.

  For just the briefest of seconds Malcolm’s composure was lost and she thought she could see disappointment drift through those blue hues. In a blink it was gone, and Malcolm was back to his smug, confident self. Helping her sit back up, he said, “This should give you enough to keep going for a little while. If you don’t use too much you should have a few days, but if something happens you can defend yourself for a few minutes. If need be I can give you more, but it’ll be a more physical connection.”

  “How close of a physical connection are we talking about?” Meredith asked, straightening her strap over her shoulder.

  “I’d rather explain it if it happens, but let’s just say it’s a close connection,” he answered, sending her a side glance before he stood up and tossed her shirt to her. Meredith felt heat spread across her cheeks. Malcolm was clearly talking about sex, and for an instant she was torn between hoping it wouldn’t come to that and wondering if a tumble with the warlock might be worth exhausting her magical energy.

  Extending his hand down towards her, Malcolm gave a brief smile. “For now, let’s get this tracking spell set up. As much as I hate to cause you any more pain, I’m going to need a drop of blood to track the Dragon’s Eye down.”

  Ignoring his hand, Meredith lifted herself to stand beside him and tugged her shirt back on. “I figured as much,” she said, looking around at the circle of candles laid out on the floor. Meredith noticed Malcolm’s hand was still extended towards her and tentatively placed her own in his. “Only what you need, Blackwood. I can’t tread through God knows what losing too much blood.”

  Malcolm’s thumb brushed over the underside of her fingers. “It should just take a drop. That’s all,” he assured her as his fingers wrapped around her own. Malcolm pulled a folding knife from his pocket and after working it open placed the sharp tip on her soft finger. “Just remember, this is all about intent. Just try to focus on the Dragon’s Eye and nothing else.”

  Shoving the thought of her still-tingling lips away, Meredith brought an image of the lost relic to mind. Before she really had time to consider anything other than finding the Dragon’s Eye, Malcolm pressed the tip of the knife into her finger. A sharp pain shot up her hand and Malcolm quickly jerked her hand forward. He flipped her hand over, letting a few drops of blood drip from her finger towards the floor.

  She expected the drops to splatter across the wooden floor, but just inches before hitting a ripple spread out. The wood underneath that ripple began to distort and a spinning cloudy spot of energy formed. It felt like looking through a camera that was on auto focus as a blurry picture took shape. It was a dark picture that slowly showed outlines of trees and large rocks. Squinting, Meredith began to make out the shapes of massive stones standing in the foreground. “What the hell is that?” she asked sharply.

  Before she could hear an answer from Malcolm she felt something shove her forward and she went barreling towards the distorted image. Then she was falling inwards, her body twisting and turning in an abnormal wind. Malcolm had fallen with her, her hand still held tight in his. She felt him tug her closer and then his arm wrapped around her, pressing her against his hard chest. Even in the safety of his embrace, she tried to kick out against the wind tunnel, trying to slow down her fall, and then there was a cold and very wet sensation spreading across her.

  Chapter Three

  Massive standing stones appeared through the haze of magic. As Malcolm surveyed the area surrounding the stones, Meredith asked, “What the hell is that?”

  Malcolm was about to tell her it was somewhere in the old country, but just as the image was clearing up enough to be sure, he felt Meredith abruptly fall forward. He tightened his hand around hers and was pulled into the spinning energy of the tracking spell. Beside him, Meredith was fighting the pull of magic. Her leg kicked out and nearly hit him.

  Turning himself, Malcolm wrapped an arm around her slim waist and pulled her close. The swirl of magic around them could easily tear them apart. He did what he could to calm her down and keep her still until the spell spit them out.

  With an ear-popping splash, the breath was stolen from Malcolm. He felt muddy water roll around them and instinctively searched for the surface. Arms still tight around Meredith, he kicked himself up through the water and finally broke into the air. Coughing and sputtering, he pulled in a deep breath.

  “What the hell, Malcolm?” Meredith exclaimed, trying to shake thick wet hair out of her face. He held her against his chest for only an instant before she shoved away from him. A fire was back in her eyes and Malcolm smiled seeing it. Glaring at him, she turned and trudged through the murky pond.

  She shook the water from her hands and grumbled, “Of course a Blackwood would drop me in a pond.”

  “Hey! I got you here, didn’t I?” Malcolm said, following the irate woman out of the water. True, he hadn’t meant to take them anywhere. He had just been trying to track down her blasted Dragon’s Eye, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to argue with the annoying woman, even if she was dripping wet and the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. “This is a hell of a lot more than you were able to do, Blackburn.” Malcolm was fully prepared to continue his rant when he noticed Meredith had stopped and was no longer shaking out the excess water.

  “Where are we?” Malcolm whispered. He’d gotten an idea about a large local area the tracking spell had spied, but he hadn’t meant to actually travel. A tracking tunnel wasn’t even meant for transport. It had taken all his concentration to keep the tunnel from collapsing, and considering how quickly it had moved them there was no way to pinpoint exactly where they’d been dropped.

  Ahead of them stood three gigantic standing stones. The overcast sky made everything very dark, but the hard edges of the stones stood in sharp contrast to the empty space around them. From under his feet, Malcolm could feel the throbbing and humming of the Earth. Its pounding power seemed to thump against his chest. In America it rarely felt this strong. Here it sang through his body.

  Beside him Meredith voiced his inner thoughts, “We’re in England.” Malcolm could only nod. They had traveled through his tracking spell all the way to some back country part of England. “Why are we in England?”

  “Whoever stole your relic must be here,” Malcolm explained, taking slow steps towards the stones.

  “Your book, too,” Meredith said absently as she extended a hand out to the closest stone.

  Cutting his eyes over to catch a glance at her, Malcolm reached for his satchel. The leather bag wasn’t at his side and he let out a deep breath, hoping that it was still in the study. Stripped of his normal tools, he didn’t have many defensive abilities to work with. Unlike his brother and Meredith, his best skills rested in spell crafting and tracking. Without his tools he had only the most basic of a magical shield.

  Without his satchel his spell book was left unprotected and it was already clear that whatever was after it could get through Meredith’s wards. Part of him wanted to tell her about the book being left behind and defenseless, but that would be counterintuitive.