The Witch's Familiar Page 13

  He slicked his fingers with lube and teased Jude’s tight hole. Jude rolled his hips or pushed back, wanting more than a tease or one finger. His moans were muffled by the kisses. It was Mack who broke first, needing more, but Jude who sank down, taking him deep. He was hot and tight around Mack, then he started moving. Like this, Jude had the control and Mack could see his face. This wasn’t a nameless random he’d picked up in a club and never wanted to see again. Jude was his witch. His mate.

  Mack kept one hand on Jude’s hip and used the other to stroke his dick. Jude’s eyelids lowered, and his breathing quickened. He put one hand on Mack’s thigh for leverage and rode him harder. Mack’s hand became slippery. The heat lodged in his balls spread. Lust tumbled through him. His or Jude’s?

  Jude bit his lower lip as though worried about being too noisy, then he shuddered and came, splashing on Mack’s belly and chest. And Mack let go with a growl. Slowly, he was able to separate his desire from Jude’s, but their heartbeats still kept time.

  “That was worth waiting for.” After several heartbeats, Jude kissed him and got up.

  It was only then Mack realized that Jude had most definitely been in charge the way a witch should be with their familiar…and he hadn’t even cared.

  “Yeah,” he said too softly for Jude to hear. He’d given in to Jude at every turn, and there’d been no magic involved. No, that wasn’t true. He’d resisted last night, he still had control over his own actions. He could’ve taken Jude in the tent or his knees. He could’ve done any number of things differently, but he hadn’t because on some level he’d known this is what Jude wanted.

  Did Jude have the same sense about him?

  He watched Jude head for the tent to get cleaned up with his wipes. Next time it would be different. He’d wait and see if Jude could feel what he wanted—though to be fair, he’d gotten what he wanted. And he shouldn’t be thinking about next time.

  He should be thinking about survival.

  Chapter Ten

  As soon as the sun dropped behind the trees, the shadows darkened, and the temperature fell. Jude tossed another branch on the fire. He doubted the little flame, that was barely big enough to heat their dinner, would keep any animal away, definitely not an aufhocker.

  “Did you pack a gun?” Jude glanced over at Mack who was putting two steaks into a pan.

  “Don’t own one.”

  We’re going to die. Jude dropped another stick into the flames and wished the fire was about three times the size, or that they were in a building, or even miles from here. This wasn’t a problem he could fix, familiar or not. They were too vulnerable.

  Something rustled, and his heart nearly exploded in fright. Being here in daylight was almost fun—or maybe that was because of what they’d been doing. Being here at dusk, or night, was about as far from fun as Jude could imagine.

  “Besides,” Mack said. “Why do we need a gun when you can throw electricity and I can turn into a bear?”

  “Was the aufhocker bigger than you when it grew? Are you bigger than a cow?”

  Mack fiddled with the fire, poking it until he was happy, and then put the pan on some kind of contraption. Cooking steak would draw every meat eater to them. “Size isn’t everything. We know how it kills.”

  “And if they hunt together?” One aufhocker, they might have half a chance. But two? He could make a circle, but it drew energy from him.

  “Maybe they only come together to mate.”

  “Or maybe they mate for life.”

  Mack put a hand on his shoulder. “Would you like to catch one to study it?”

  “No. Though that would be useful.” Jude rocked back on his heels, then sat. His jeans were grubby anyway, so what did a little more matter? “Maybe we should’ve made our way back to the car. If one of us gets injured, what will the other do? Do you not think of these things when you’re up here alone?”

  “I don’t let it bother me. Hunters and their guns scare me more than mischance.”

  “More than size-changing hellhounds?”

  “No, I’ve added them to my list of things I don’t like.” Mack flipped the steaks. “What bothers me is why they’ve woken. Do spells run out?”

  Jude shook his head, then sighed. “Sometimes. The protection circle vanishes in daylight, and some spells have a time limit. But that kind of spell should’ve held.”

  “A sleeping spell lasts forever? Did a prince kiss them awake?”

  “That’s not how you break a sleeping spell.” Fairy tales lied, for obvious reasons, as no witch wanted humans learning how to actually break spells. “There’s a physical setup that binds the sleeper.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Jude grabbed a rock, a branch, and the tray the meat had been in and put them around himself. “Usually there’s five things. The witch, or witches, then uses the items as a focus for the sleeping spell which is an elaborate binding spell. To break it, the items need to be disturbed.” He knocked the rock away.

  “So someone or something woke them up.”

  Jude nodded.

  “So we hold them still and put them back to sleep.” Mack grinned like it was the obvious answer to their aufhocker problem.

  “I can’t do that magic. I mean, I know how it’s done, and I understand the theory, but it’s not something I was taught.” He’d read lots about magic, though he’d never put it into practice in case the Coven told him off for dabbling in things he shouldn’t be playing with.

  “Because they already think you’re dangerous.”

  “Yeah. How did the witches—because I don’t think it was just one—keep them still, trapped in the first place?”

  Mack scowled as he flipped the steaks onto the plates. “We’ll never know how they did it. And since we can’t put them to sleep, we need to find a way to kill them.”

  Jude looked at the meat on his plate. “Got any sides?”

  “There were two foil-wrapped potatoes in there, but all your poking around seems to have buried them.”

  “If you have more potatoes, I can zap them.” It would give him something to do besides waiting to die.

  Mack lifted an eyebrow.

  “Well, I can try,” he said with a smile.

  By the time they’d finished eating, several potatoes had exploded, but some had been edible. As the fire burned down, Jude found the ones he’d accidentally buried. They’d be inedible now, so he left them in the coals.

  The fire and the stars were the only light. While he supposed he should marvel at the beauty of the sky without light pollution, he was missing home and the city and the constant noise of civilization. He was sure it was so quiet he could hear Mack’s heart beating from the other side of the fire.

  “You should get some sleep. I’ll stand watch.” Mack took Jude’s plate off him and started cleaning up, carefully packing away all the rubbish.

  “I’m not going to be able to sleep. Nor do I want to be lying there wondering if it’s jumped on your back and silently killed you. We should sit back to back.” He hoped he didn’t sound like a whiny baby who was afraid of the dark. It wasn’t the dark he was afraid of, it was the things that lived in the dark.

  The tension left Mack’s face, and he gave Jude a small smile. “Okay.”

  “You’re agreeing with me?” Why was Mack agreeing with him? They didn’t agree on anything, well, maybe a couple of things. But when they were both fully dressed there was usually no agreement. Was Mack just as terrified of aufhockers as he was? In which case, why didn’t they pack up and run? In the next breath he knew Mack would never do that. He wouldn’t leave his town to be overrun by hellhounds.

  “I think it’s a good idea.”

  That made Jude even more suspicious. “Should I put a circle up?”

  “That would be going too far. We want it to come to us. What about some kind of magical warning when it gets close?”

  Jude shook his head. “I can’t do that. And tonight is not a good nig
ht to learn.”

  “What can you do?”

  “Electrocute things and make a protective circle.”

  Mack considered him for a moment. “Try not to electrocute me.”

  “I won’t.” Or at least he’d try not to.

  “I’m going to shift. I’d rather have claws and fur between me and its teeth.”

  “Aren’t you lucky?” He was the bait, that was what Mack wasn’t saying. Sit out and wait, Jude. Look like something delicious a hungry, vengeful aufhocker would want to eat. “Should I dab some tomato sauce on to make myself more enticing?”

  Mack grinned and kissed him. “I prefer barbeque.”

  “We won’t be able to talk if you’re a bear. When it attacks, how will we know what to do?”

  Mack’s hand lingered on his shoulder. “I know that you’re worried, I can feel it. I felt more than that earlier. I think we have to trust the bond.”

  The bond that Mack had never wanted in the first place. Not even Jude had that much faith in magic. But he bit his lip and nodded.

  Mack stripped and shifted and took his place at Jude’s back, but he was careful to leave a gap so he didn’t get a shock when Jude arced up.

  When the Coven had sent him to Mercy, he’d never thought he’d end up sitting back to back with a bear in the middle of a forest waiting for an aufhocker to sneak up on them.

  With Mack in bear form, there was no one to talk to, but every so often the bear turned his way as if checking he was awake. Which, of course, he was.

  The fire burned down to little more than embers, but neither of them stirred. Tension thrummed it the gap between them. For all of Mack’s casual attitude, he was far from calm. It was reassuring that Jude wasn’t the only one freaking out. It was probably better that he had no one to talk to. He might have said too much.

  This afternoon had been perfect. He hadn’t wanted the sun to set and he didn’t want what he had with Mack to end, which it would once his job here was done. He sighed and let a small arc of electricity form between his finger and thumb. He liked Mack too much. He shouldn’t have let himself start liking him, but it was hard not to, because even when he was being gruff he was a good person.

  Because of the bond, there was more between them than he’d ever had with anyone. He felt the heat before Mack shifted. Heat wasn’t quite right, there was more to it, a lust to break free, a howling in his blood for something he’d never experienced.

  Cold swept across the back of his neck. The bear hardly moved, but there was an alertness that had been missing before. Jude played with the charge in the air and the ground so it was ready to be used. Then he saw the creature. The glint of eyes between the trees as something small came toward them.

  “I see it,” he whispered.

  Mack huffed out a breath in acknowledgement.

  The aufhocker drew closer, still small. It circled around as though looking for a way to attack. Jude’s heart beat so fast he was sure he would pass out. He forced himself to breathe. At least if he died the Coven couldn’t take his familiar away or strip his magic. But he didn’t want Mack to die just because he’d failed. They both had to live.

  And the creature needed prey before it would attack. It needed one of them to get up. Jude wanted to put up a circle and hide, but that would only delay the inevitable for another night. It had to be him who moved. He was the bait.

  “I’ll give the aufhocker what it wants.” Jude got up before Mack could argue.

  The bear’s head swung around, but Jude wasn’t totally suicidal. He walked in front of Mack and prayed that a bear could bring down an aufhocker.

  Jude pretended to tend the fire, but he could feel the creature’s eyes boring into him. He was sure he could sense each step it took toward him. Or was he picking up on what Mack was seeing? He knew the moment the creature leaped, and swelled, doubling in size. Jude turned, and lightning tore upward and caught it in the belly. The air cracked at the sudden change. Jude’s heart hammered, and he prepared to strike again. Then Mack was on the aufhocker before it hit the ground, very much alive. Both animals were struggling to get good bites. Claws and teeth raked fur and flesh.

  Jude winced, sure he could feel each scratch. He needed to do something, but he didn’t want to accidentally fry Mack. He kept a charge ready, the spark dancing on his fingers. The fight became more vicious. He couldn’t stand there and do nothing. So he did the only thing he could that wouldn’t be fatal. He covered his fingers with his shirtsleeve, picked up a hot rock from the fire, and hurled it at the beast. The rock was actually a rather overcooked foil-wrapped potato that hit the beast and scattered. But it distracted the aufhocker for long enough for Mack to bite it and bring it to the ground.

  He hadn’t lost his throw, even though he hadn’t played baseball in years. The smile of satisfaction faded fast from his lips.

  The aufhocker changed size, growing again. Bigger than the bear until Mack could no longer hold on and he was thrown off. Mack had enough sense to back away nimbly. His sides were heaving, but Jude couldn’t take his eyes off the aufhocker for long enough to see how badly Mack was hurt.

  The aufhocker slunk forward, not ready to give up. There was enough of a gap between the two animals that Jude could act. The charge in the air was something he could taste. His hair, every hair on his body, was drawn up. The strike hit the creature in the chest and threw it backward. Mack followed in a few bounds, and so did Jude, ready to throw again if it got up.

  Which it did. Mack kept just far enough away for Jude to try again. Try was all he could do.

  ‘Hard to kill’ was an aufhockers most common description. But it wasn’t as big this time, and he remembered Mack saying it took energy to shift. The aufhocker wasn’t naturally big. It was small. That was a huge discovery. He threw lightning again before Mack could close in.

  “It’s tiring. Being big uses up its energy,” he called out, knowing Mack could understand him. How long until it gave up and retreated for the night?

  Mack attacked, not giving the creature time to recover. If it fled, they’d never be able to go after it. It would vanish into the night. Part of him wanted that, the rest of him didn’t want it to run off and get reinforcements.

  Mack’s flanks were heaving. He was tiring. They couldn’t keep this up.

  “Let go, I’ll stop it from running.” He didn’t know how to do that except by throwing bolt after bolt. There had to be a way of using a circle to trap something. He could trap it in the clearing, but it would be trapped with them. “I’m going to put up a circle, trapping us all. If you think it’s a bad idea, growl or something.”

  Mack was silent. Had he heard him? Or was he agreeing?

  Damn it. It would be worse if the creature took off and recuperated for a second try or came back with its friend.

  Jude glanced around the clearing, using the trees as reference points for the edge of the circle. Then he drew it up in a flicker of blue, praying that he wasn’t sealing their deaths.

  The circle snapped closed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mack put himself between the aufhocker and Jude, knocking the witch to the ground. The aufhocker threw itself at the wall of blue, but the magic held. From what Jude had told him it would hold until dawn, or until Jude became exhausted or died. Mack wasn’t sure which would come sooner.

  “You’re hurt,” Jude said as though surprised.

  He knew that. The aufhocker had almost gotten a good bite on him. Its teeth had punctured the skin in his shoulder, and its claws had scored his thigh. He’d be fine when he shifted back to human. Did he dare?

  Why was Jude not zapping the thing and finishing it off? He understood why Jude hadn’t while Mack and it had been fighting, but now? The aufhocker was a clear target. He gave Jude a nudge and hoped he’d get the hint.

  The aufhocker ignored them as it tried to find a way out, but that wouldn’t last for long, and Mack didn’t know how smart it was. He wasn’t bleeding that much and shifting to heal wo
uld take energy he didn’t have. Nor could he leave Jude vulnerable. His unprotected human skin would be too easily torn apart.

  And if Jude died, he was screwed. Not for the first time Mack cursed the familiar bond. There was always a trade off with magic—in this case, it was with the binding of their lives.

  The aufhocker paced the edge of the circle, its gaze on them. For the moment it was the size of a large dog, but that could change in a blink. It could shift as it moved. And it healed when it shifted, much the same as he did.

  At the moment, the aufhocker showed no sign of injury. Its black fur bristled in annoyance, but there were places where there was no fur. Its skin was tough like hide or scales. He needed to go for the soft parts, or at least the furred parts. It was one ugly dog-thing.

  Mack kept himself between Jude and the aufhocker. It would’ve been better if Jude could’ve trapped the beast in the circle so they could rest. Mack had thought the aufhockers hard to kill reputation was overstated. It wasn’t. But without his human mouth, Mack couldn’t convey those thoughts. He could only respond with a nod or a shake of his head.

  The aufhocker stopped pacing and stared at them as though preparing to attack.

  “I can’t throw lightning while in the circle,” Jude murmured.

  Mack didn’t take his attention off the aufhocker, but he growled his displeasure. Why the hell not?

  “If I do, everything in the circle will get electrocuted.” Jude kept his voice low as though trying not to provoke the aufhocker.

  It had followed them and would keep following them until they were dead, because they’d found its lair and made a mess. Mack totally understood why people upped and left when an aufhocker showed up. It was easier not to tangle with them.

  Too late for that now.