Chapter 18
When Briggs stopped at the red light, Cece held her phone out to him. “Can you take a look at this picture and tell me if it’s the witch from last night?”
He studied the photo carefully before shaking his head. “No.”
“Are you sure? It was pretty dark out there, right?”
The light turned green, and he stepped on the gas. “I’m sure. Who is that?”
“My grandmother,” Cece said. “It’s a picture of her from some charity event she hosted last year.”
“Just because she’s not the witch who attacked last night, doesn’t mean it isn’t her behind it,” Briggs said.
“I know.” Cece lapsed into silence and stared out the window. She was exhausted and could barely think straight. She hadn’t gone back to sleep last night, and she wasn’t someone who did well on very little sleep. But her worry that the witch would return kept her awake.
Was it that? Or something else.
She sighed inwardly, squinting her eyes against the sunshine that reflected off the snow.
She’d told Briggs last night that she didn’t have enough magic left to manipulate the plants, and while she’d been pretty certain that was true, she wasn’t completely confident.
Her worry that she would carry herself right back to Briggs’s room had also been a big factor in not sleeping.
She stole a glance at Briggs. He looked tired and a little grumpy, and she wondered if he’d gotten any sleep either. From the look of the bags under his eyes, she guessed no.
Guilt washed over her, but she did her best to shake it off.
They were on their way to the security firm to meet the warlock who would be performing the protection spells.
If she had even a hint that his spell wouldn’t be strong enough, she would politely but firmly let Mal know that she no longer required their protection.
Her guilt at them spending so much time and resources on her at no cost was becoming overwhelming, but her worry that one of them would be hurt had been what pushed her to make the decision.
The thought of Briggs dying or being injured because of her sent nausea rocketing through her.
She grimaced and pressed her hand against her stomach as Briggs sniffed the air.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“You sure?”
She nodded before studying her hands. She needed to talk to Briggs about the research she’d done last night, but she wasn’t quite ready to handle that level of embarrassment. Instead, she said, “I hope the smell of the burned herbs in the house didn’t bother you.”
Before they’d left the house, she’d burned sage and rosemary throughout the house, repeating her cleansing intention in a soft chant as she did so.
“It was fine,” Briggs said.
“Good,” she said. “That’s good.”
Silence filled the truck, and Briggs said, “Say what you need to say, Cece.”
“How do you know I have something to say?” she asked.
“You have a very expressive face. You can’t hide your expressions for shit.”
She scowled at him, and his lips twitched up into an actual smile. Desire immediately pooled low in her belly, and she quickly looked away. Now was not the time to let lust lead her thoughts.
She took a deep breath. “I was having some trouble sleeping last night, so I did more research into the conduit thing and if it was possible to break it.”
“And?” Briggs’s voice was carefully neutral.
“No luck,” she said. “From what I can tell, there’s no potion or spell that will stop you from being my conduit.”
He didn’t reply, and her cheeks already heating up, she said, “But I did find something that might help. Sort of. I mean… it won’t stop the conduit thing, but it could… it might help us… Never mind. It’s dumb.”
“Tell me, Cece,” he said.
Her face roughly the same temperature as she imagined the deepest pit of Hell was, she said, “There’s some information regarding conduits that indicate the more the witch and their conduit touch, the more often they have sex, the easier it is for the witch to control the excess magic it gives her, and with time, the conduit becomes somewhat immune to the effect of the witch’s magic on them. ”
She stared out the window, her embarrassment too great to even look at Briggs. After the longest minute of her life, he said, “How much sex and how much time?”
“I… I’m sorry?”
“How much sex do we have to have for you to control your magic, and how much time will it take for me to become immune to you?”
“From my readings, it seems that it’s different for every witch and conduit,” Cece said.
“But there are some instances where it got to the point that the conduit could leave the witch and not, uh, crave their magic anymore. They moved on with their lives and found their real partner or, um, mate, or whatever.”
“How many instances?” he asked.
She pressed her lips together. “I found two.”
The silence ticked by, and unable to sit in it for any longer, she said, “There is the other obvious option where we don’t see each other anymore. I’m open to either, so you can make the final decision on what you’d like to do.”
She continued to look out the window. He would pick the sex one, she was sure of it. Why wouldn’t he? The attraction between them was a powerful one, and she knew he liked the hit of her magic it gave him.
He might not choose the sex option, Cece. You barely know him, and you have no idea what he’s really thinking. Not all guys are ruled by their dicks.
Her inner voice was right, and she hated it.
She’d only touched Briggs twice, and already the thought of never again feeling the powerful magic only he could give her made her feel twitchy and a little frantic.
She wasn’t saying she had the urge to immediately tie Briggs to her bed so he couldn’t leave her, but she wasn’t not saying it.
She sighed inwardly. The realization that she wasn’t a good person, that she was perfectly willing to use Briggs to increase her magic, was a low, steady hum in her brain that never entirely disappeared.
Despite that, anxiety brewed in her belly at the thought of Briggs leaving her.
Of course, being this upset by the thought of losing Briggs was a good indication that walking away from him was the right decision.
Every part of her cried out in anger and panic at that thought, and she barely heard Briggs’s low voice when he said, “Little witch.”
She stared at him, hoping the panic wasn’t apparent on her face. “Yeah?”
“Take some deep breaths.”
“I’m okay,” she said.
“You’re not. Your hands are glowing, and I can smell your fear,” he said.
She muttered a curse, staring at the soft green light radiating from her hands.
“Be cool, Cece,” she whispered. “Be cool.”
After about thirty seconds, the light faded from her hands, and she slumped against the seat, staring out the passenger window again.
“Even if us having sex made it easier for you to control the excess magic and help me become immune -”
“You won’t be entirely immune,” Cece said. “Just not as affected with time.”
“Right,” he said. “Even if those things happened, it’s not a good idea for us to have sex.”
Disappointment crashed over her, and, thanks to her exhaustion, she was immediately on the verge of tears. She fought back the tears bitterly and nodded. “Understood.”
It’s fine, Cece. You’ve spent your whole life with minimal magic and below average sex. It’s not the end of the world.
She glanced at Briggs, who was staring steadily out the windshield, his big hands gripping the steering wheel a little harder than seemed necessary.
She realized it wasn’t just the potential of magic and sex she would miss. When Briggs wasn’t being an asshole, he could actually sort of be sweet.
Sort of? He bought you groceries, bought you dinner, took you to see his friends when you were sad, fixed your ceiling light, and chopped a year’s worth of firewood for you.
Okay, fine, there were other perks to having Briggs living with her, but it’s not like they were in a relationship or something. He had done those things because he felt sorry for her, and having him do it out of pity was another fresh version of hell.
She straightened her shoulders. Relying on Briggs or the others at the security firm was a bad idea on her part anyway. She had to figure out a way to either convince these other witches to leave her alone or try to survive until Elora returned home and could help her.
Convince Briggs to change his mind. If he agrees to sex with you, your magic would probably be strong enough to protect you from the witches who are after you.
Would it? She honestly didn’t know. Doing a complicated restore spell was miles apart from protecting herself from a more powerful witch or warlock.
Her magic might have been the strongest she’d ever felt last night, but she had a feeling that it wasn’t even a quarter of what she needed to keep herself safe.
It didn’t matter anyway. Briggs had chosen option two, and she wouldn’t try to change his mind. She wouldn’t be that pathetic or desperate. She had some pride.
Your pride will get you killed.
She ignored her inner voice, proud of how steady her voice was when she said, “So, do you think Mal would be open to assigning Ronin instead?”
“Assigning Ronin to what?” Briggs glanced at her in confusion.
“For my security. I’m sure Garth is very nice, but if this warlock’s protection spell isn’t powerful enough, then, as a phoenix shifter, at least Ronin has the whole ‘die and rise from the ashes’ thing, right?”
“I’m your security,” Briggs growled.
Now it was her turn to be confused. “I… no, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
He growled again, and she said, “Stop growling at me. You chose option two.”
“The fuck I did,” he said as he pulled into the parking lot of the security firm’s building.
“You did,” she said. “You said no to the sex thing, so -”
“I’m choosing option three,” he said.
“There is no option three.”
“Sure, there is. I keep protecting you until we figure out how to stop your family from going after you.”
“One, we don’t know for certain it’s my family, and two, we can’t continue to spend time together, Briggs.”
“Why not?”
“Why… Briggs! I tried to fuck you against your will last night. Do you not remember that? What if it happens again? What if my magic takes over and I can’t control it again?”
He parked and shut off his truck before releasing his seatbelt and turning to face her. “Little witch, stop.”
“Don’t tell me to stop, Briggs,” she snapped. “What I did last night to you was -”
“I would fuck you even if I weren’t your conduit.”
She blinked at him. “I… what?”
“I would fuck you even if I weren’t your conduit,” he repeated.
“You… you can’t possibly know that,” she said. “My magic has messed with your head and -”
“Cecelia, I wanted to fuck you the second I saw you in the hospital,” he said. “Before I even knew who you were, before you so goddamn bravely tried to stop Hudson and me from taking Elora out of the hospital, before I touched you and felt your magic.”
“Are you serious?” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you, little witch. So, this idea that your magic is forcing me to want you is bullshit. Does it make it harder to resist you? Yes, but I wanted to know what it would feel like to be between those soft thighs of yours, well before this conduit thing. Even if I weren’t your conduit, I would want you, Cece.
I want to suck on those pretty nipples, taste your sweet pussy, and give you every goddamn inch of my dick until you’re fucking stuffed full of me, with or without your magic. Is that clear?”
“Briggs,” she whispered. Her entire body trembled with hot need. She was making a damn mess in her panties, and her magic was flooding her system, pulsing through her veins and begging her to take Briggs.
They stared hungrily at each other before Briggs growled loudly, his hands reaching for the steering wheel and tightening around it until it made an alarming creaking sound.
The noise seemed to ground him a little, and he tore his gaze from hers, staring out the window as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple to be soaked up by the white hair that had sprouted on his jaw.
He took a deep breath and then groaned. “Fuck, I can smell your lust.”
He opened the truck door and slid out, slamming the door shut before he braced both hands on the hood and took several more breaths.
Cece sucked air into her lungs, willing her racing heart to slow and thinking about all the things she needed to repair in her house with dismal home-improvement skills and on a shoestring budget, until her lust cooled.
When she felt somewhat in control, she left the truck, giving Briggs a tentative smile. “I’m sorry.”
He stared at her over the truck’s hood. “We can’t have sex, Cece, but I’m not letting anyone else be your security. This isn’t up for discussion. I know it won’t be easy keeping it platonic, but we’re just gonna have to fucking deal with it. All right?”
“Why is it so important that you be my security detail?” she asked.
His blue eyes turned a dark brown, and she watched in fascination as more white hair sprouted on his face. His deep voice now a low, gravel-filled growl, he said, “Because you’re mine to protect.”