Magic & Mayhem

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Chapter 7

“Hey!” Lucy yelled at Malek for the second time.

Talking to you, asshole.

She threw her arms up and energy shot off her hands towards Malek. Dude barely paused in draining the witch under him.


That punch of energy should have knocked him off the woman.

She made the same gesture, threw her powers at the demon again. That got his attention, and earned her a glare.

Hello, asshole.

Make that, ugly asshole.

Malek was a Jogon. Jogons could alter their looks, make themselves look human, but when things got violent, their true demon selves were revealed.

Malek’s natural Jogon form was not cute. His skin was pasty pale, crawling with spidery black veins. His eyes were black where a human’s would be white, his irises cloudy and grey. His teeth looked like they should be in a shark’s mouth, and his hands were tipped with heavy-duty black claws.

He snarled at her, his claws still around the witch’s throat.

She was about to hit him with her powers a third time when Deklan, in wolf form, charged forward, launched himself at Malek.

The demon released his hold on his victim’s neck, pushed up off her, squatting over her legs, braced for impact.

Deklan and Malek collided, first with each other and then with the wall behind Malek.

Teeth snapped - claws swiped.

Get the bastard, wolfy! Lucy thought at Deklan.

While the boys had it out, she turned her attention to the witch laying on the floor who wasn’t moving.

She had a sinking feeling she was already gone.

She hurried to her, grabbed her under the arms, dragged her to the opposite side of the bed as Deklan and Malek, out of harm’s way. She pressed her fingers to the side of her neck, readjusted her positioning, hunting for a pulse. There was none to be found.


“What the fuck is going on - ?” a female voice called.

Lucy’s head snapped up at that question shouted from the hallway.

Someone else was here?

She moved away from Malek’s unfortunate victim. The woman was already gone, there was nothing she could for her now. All she could do, was help make sure Malek couldn’t hurt anyone else.

To that end, while Deklan took care of Malek, she’d take care of the Jogon’s friend.

She peered over the corner of the bed at the new contender entering the skirmish. A woman appeared in the doorway, attention drawn to Malek and Deklan’s fight on the other side of the room.

Lucy frowned at her first sight of the woman.

She didn’t look like a demon. She looked human.

The woman came further into the room and Lucy got better look at her face.

She gasped, the hairs on the back of her arms standing up, her mind stuttering with shock.

What the hell?

She couldn’t be seeing who she thought she was seeing.

The woman had long, brown hair, a full mouth, a nose a little longer than Lucy’s own. A scar marred the right side of her neck, a horizontal slash a few inches long.

That slash was the only thing not familiar to Lucy. Her sister hadn’t that when they were kids.

Lucy blinked, dumbfounded.

This was impossible.

Hannah was dead.

Was she dreaming?

She had to be dreaming... her sister could not have just walked back into her world... very much alive.

“Hannah?” she whispered.

The Hannah look-alike turned to her and their eyes met, the woman’s anger and malice clashing with Lucy’s confusion and surprise.

Holy shit! It really was Hannah.

It had been nineteen years... her sister had changed, sure, but Lucy recognized the child she’d known in the woman before her.

Her sister was alive!

Hannah hadn’t been killed that night all those years ago, like she’d thought?

She’d been... taken?

Lucy’s brain stuttered, computing this discovery with great difficulty. A loud rushing noise sounded in her ears. Her body felt like a foreign object, heavy and strange to manipulate.

How could this be? Where had Hannah been all this time? What the hell was going on?

“Hannah.” she repeated, raising a hand to her chest, as if that would keep her thundering heart from beating its way out of her body.

“Who the fuck are you?” Hannah snarled at her.

Lucy slowly got to her feet in a world suddenly upside down.

There was absolutely no recognition in her sister’s eyes.

“It’s me, Lucy.” she replied. “Your sister.”

Hannah looked at her like she was fucking crazy.

Maybe she had gone crazy. She was looking at her long dead sister. Maybe she was hallucinating.

“I don’t have a sister.” Hannah scoffed and dismissed her like she was nothing, turning away from her, shifting her attention to Malek and Deklan.

Lucy stood there stupidly, eyes glued to Hannah, did nothing as her sister threw her arms up, fired energy at Deklan with a swift hand motion. He came flying over the bed, slammed into the wall behind her and Malek’s victim.

That kicked her out of her stunned daze.

“Deklan.” she cried, hurrying over to him.

He shifted to human as she crouched beside him. She checked him over cursorily after he straightened himself out, propped himself up against the wall.

His lip was bleeding, his cheek swelling and Malek had clawed him in several places.

He met her gaze briefly, slid his attention over her shoulder. She swung her eyes back to Hannah. Her sister and Malek were standing side by side, sneering over at her and Deklan.

Deklan grabbed her hand.

“Get us out of here.” he demanded.

She looked at him, looked back at Hannah.

Getting out of there was a smart idea. Deklan was banged up and she was stupid with shock, but... how could she leave her sister?

“Lucy. Get us out of here.” Deklan insisted.

She still didn’t move, her gaze on her sister. Hannah raised a hand and a ball of energy came to life over her palm.

Dammit. She had no choice at the moment. It killed her to leave her sister, but she didn’t want to fight Hannah, didn’t have her faculties together. They had to leave, regroup.

“Lucy.” Deklan called again.

She squeezed Deklan’s hand and teleported them back to his house. Seconds later, they appeared in the living room on the floor behind his sofa.

Deklan let go of her hand. With an arm cradling his side, he gingerly got up.

“I’ll be right back.” he told her.

She nodded mutely as he started out of the room.

She slowly pushed up from her crouch as he walked away, stood there like a statue, staring into space while he padded up the stairs in his bare feet. His footsteps above her tracked into the bathroom, moments later his room.

While he cleaned and patched himself up and threw some clothes on, she struggled to digest the fact that her sister was alive.

It was unbelievable.

Emotions scurried around inside her like chickens with their heads chopped off. She yo-yo-ed between indescribable happiness and desolate confusion.

Hannah was alive!

But... how could that be?

What had happened to her? How had she not discovered she was alive sooner?

Lucy had the answer to that second question - she hadn’t discovered Hannah was alive sooner because she’d believed her dead and never looked for her.

A new emotion joined the fray. Anger. Self-recrimination. It welled up inside her, turning her stomach sour.

Her sister had been alive all this time... she could have found her years ago... if only she’d looked for her... if only she hadn’t written her off, mourned her along with their mother.

The authorities had conducted an investigation, but they’d had no leads, no evidence and no witnesses, other than her. And she couldn’t tell the cops or her new foster parents the truth, that demons had been involved. They would have thought her crazy.

Even if they had believed her, humans were no good against demons.

When they’d questioned her, Lucy had told them she hadn’t got a good look at the intruder.

The investigation had ended with the authorities listing her mom and Hannah as missing, and trying to offer her hope that they’d be found.

But Lucy had had no hope. She’d believed her mom and sister were both dead.

Anger at her younger self fuelled Lucy into action now. She marched into the kitchen, snatched up her crystal, started scrying for Hannah.

Her sister wasn’t dead. She had to find her. ASAP.

What she was going to do when she found her, she had no idea, since Hannah obviously wasn’t in her right mind, but she had to bring her sister home.

A few minutes after she started scrying, she heard Deklan coming down the stairs.

“Lucy - ” he called.

She didn’t bother answering him, heard him move down the hall.

“Lucy.” he repeated as he entered the kitchen.

He quietly came over, joined her at the table.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She didn’t reply to that question.

Wolfy had eyes... what did it look like she was doing?

He didn’t say anything else, just remained at her side, quietly watched for several minutes.

She tried to keep her increasingly foul mood to herself, but it built and thickened until her anger leaked out of her mouth without her permission.

“All those years. All that time.” she bemoaned, shaking her head at herself. “I could have been looking for her.”

She wanted to scream... cry... break something... break all the things.

But that wouldn’t help anything.

She gritted her teeth, kept scrying.

“Lucy,” Deklan murmured.

“Hey. Lucy.” he repeated, when she didn’t respond.

She continued to ignore him.

Her thoughts may have slipped out, but she hadn’t meant for them to and she didn’t feel like talking. If he knew what was good for him, he’d leave her alone. She was barely holding it together.

His hand landed on her arm, applied pressure, urging it down.

Irritated with the interruption, she looked over at him. He’d thrown on jeans and a T-shirt. His cheek and lip already looked improved. The gouges on his torso were probably well on their way to being scratches.

He didn’t say anything, just gazed down at her, his expression solemn. The sympathy and worry she saw in his eyes only fed her agitation, made her self-reproach burn hotter.

She’d let her sister be taken, left her at the mercy of demons all this time...

If she could kick her own ass... that’s what she’d be doing right then.

“Why didn’t I look for her?” she asked, exasperation in her voice.

“Why didn’t I sense her? What good are my powers if I can’t fucking sense my sister is alive?” she asked, throwing up her arms.

She should have been able to sense her... they’d been able to sense each other as kids - hadn’t been able to play hide-and-seek because of that - so why hadn’t she sensed her?

Deklan remained quiet in the face of her pique, his eyes brightening a little as slivers of silver swirled into the blue.

Stupid, sexy eyes.

Impatience riding her hard, she turned away from him, walked over to the back door, looked out its window into the darkness.

“I should have fucking looked for her.” she said.

She would never forgive herself.

Deklan came up behind her.

“Lucy,” he said, voice soft. “You were just a kid. You didn’t have the resources to look for her.”

True as that was, hearing it only added to her annoyance. Anything and everything right now, would only make her mood worse.

He stepped closer, his heat hitting her back. She wanted to growl at him to go away, to give her some space.

She should just grab her stuff and go home.

“Why would you have looked for her later?” he asked. “You thought she’d died the same night as your mom.”

Yeah, well, clearly she’d thought wrong, hadn’t she?

She’d always thought of herself as smart.

She didn’t anymore.

If she’d been smart, she’d have looked for her sister... not stopped until she’d discovered what had become of her.

The weight of Deklan’s large hands settled on her shoulders. She shrugged him off, turned and faced him.

“It doesn’t matter.” she said. “Hannah’s alive. That’s all that matters. I have to go get her.”

Deklan frowned at that, broke eye contact, looking away from her, off to the side, clearly hesitant to say something.

“What?” she snapped.

If he had something to say, he needed to spit it out.

He looked back to her and she frowned at the expression on his face.

“Lucy.” he said, his voice full of apology. “Your sister’s... not your sister anymore.” he said quietly, slowly, as if talking to a child.

Her anger amped up. She wasn’t a damn child.

“You can’t save her.” he murmured.

Her eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared.

He needed to shut up.

“Watch me.” she growled.

She was going to save her sister if it was the last thing she did.

“Hannah’s with Malek.” Deklan said, saying her sister was evil without actually saying those words. He grimaced as if it hurt him to say what he was saying. “Your sister may not be dead, Lucy, but she’s gone. The sister you knew and loved... is gone.”

Her blood went instant boil.

Hannah was alive. It was a fucking miracle. Her sister may be buddies with a Jogon at the moment, but she was alive. And as long as her sister was alive, she had a chance of saving her. Deklan could take his pessimism and eat shit. She hadn’t asked for his opinion, and she didn’t want it.

She glared daggers at him. Her emotions coalesced, crystallized into a new unified purpose... attack.

Primed and ready to fight, she growled, swung a hand up, palm flat and ready to make an imprint on Deklan’s cheek.

Wolfy’s reflexes were good. He caught her wrist easily in his large hand.

Her other hand came up. Jerk caught that one too.


Their gazes clashed, held, the space between them heavy with her anger and Deklan’s frustration.

As their little stalemate of sorts stretched on, a new tension crept in at the edges, sparking off their emotions.

Lust hijacked the moment, releasing hormones, and redirecting them to an alternate way of resolving their emotions than fighting.

Deklan stepped into her body, crowding her, and Lucy swallowed thickly, tried to resist how her body reacted to him.

His gaze heating, he forced her back, his large hands clamped around her wrists. He kept right on advancing until she had no where else to go, was trapped between his chest and the wall, her arms pinned on either side of her head.


What did he think he was doing?

She’d given him the green light to kiss her earlier, and he’d turned away. If he thought she was going to let him kiss her now, he had another think coming.

She opened her mouth, sucked in a good breath so she could blast him, and...

... completely lost her train of thought when Deklan swooped in, claimed her mouth with a hard kiss.

Pumped full of anger, unable to let him have it verbally, she quickly adapted to his weapon of choice.

Opponents came in different arenas. Even sexual. She’d take this battle.

Their tongues sparred. Worthy adversaries.

Deklan pulled back, his breath heaving, his mouth an inch from hers. He released her wrists, pressed his palms flat against the wall.

He better not be about to walk away from her again. That’d be a good way to get a knee to his junk.

His eyes were almost full silver now, just a hint of blue.

He looked into her eyes as if searching for something. Apparently he saw whatever he needed to see because his mouth crashed down on hers again.

She took the aggressive onslaught that was his kiss, unleashed her own assault, a counter attack. Her only thought was ‘Yes!’ - that one word drove every other thought out of her head.

Thank fuck. She really didn’t want to think anymore, couldn’t handle it.

Things escalated quickly.

Her hands found Deklan’s fly, popped the button, lowered the zipper. Deklan took over, shoving the Levi’s down to his thighs. She broke their kiss, looked down.

Boy had gone commando. He was full and thick and long.

She swallowed.

She’d been impressed with his size when she’d seen him at rest. Now, seeing him erect? She was gobsmacked.

That thing was Herculean.

She reached for him, not hesitating at the chance to fondle and squeeze such an impressive example of manhood.

Were all werewolves so well endowed?

Before she could learn his length, Deklan stopped her hand.

Not cool.

He’d started this. He better follow through. She wasn’t ready to go back to thinking yet, to feeling anything other than the haze of passion.

“Turn around.” he instructed.

Oh. Okay.

She complied instantly. She didn’t care which way he took her, as long as he got inside her asap. She felt the void in her core like a missing limb.

She turned and faced the wall, undid the fly of her jeans faster than she’d managed Deklan’s. Before she could shove them down, he did it for her, his hands yanking her pants, and panties, down to her thighs.

She licked her lips, turned her head to the side, watching Deklan behind her out of the corner of her eye. He pulled her back a few steps from the wall with his hands on her hips, then urged her to bend forward with a hand on her shoulder.

Submitting to his direction, she bent, tilted her hips, lifting her ass, and spread her legs as much as she could.

Deklan stepped into her, his hand trailing down her back, from her shoulder to her hip, over her ass. She arched her back, tipped her ass higher, pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling at it as Deklan continued to keep her waiting.

What was the hold up?

She looked over her shoulder, her torso twisting slightly until she met Deklan’s gaze. What she saw in his eyes rattled her.

She was already a riot of emotions. That’s why she was in her current position - literally. As soon as Deklan had kissed her, the mess in her brain had quieted. All that energy had been redirected to erogenous zones. She welcomed the diversion, but Deklan needed to stop looking at her like that. The affection in his gaze was stirring up a whole other hornet’s nest inside her.

They were having sex. Nothing more.

She cut off eye contact, faced forward again, getting herself back in the zone - no thinking allowed.

Deklan slid himself through her folds, gliding easily thanks to her cream. She hummed at the tantalizing opening salvo.

More of that please.

A bump at her entrance had her swallowing. She closed her eyes, braced for penetration, groaned when Deklan slid through her slippery folds again.

Did that feel as good to him as it did to her?

Silly question.

At some point she must have straightened up a bit, because Deklan pressed her back down with a hand between her shoulder blades. Once she was repositioned, and he had a better angle, he set his tip at her entrance, slowly started feeding her his length.

Good boy.

She sucked in a breath.

Big boy.

She tensed as he went deeper, expecting pain to join the stretching going on.

“Relax.” Deklan murmured.

Pah. Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one being invaded.

Finally they reached the end of the line. His pelvis met her ass. He was all in.

She appreciated the time he gave her to adjust to him. She needed it. It had been a while, and she was getting back in the saddle with a big piece.

He bent over her, his chest meeting her back. His hand slid under her shirt, up her belly, found a breast, fondled her through her bra. They should have gotten rid of their clothes, but there hadn’t been time.

Her core ready for more friction, she shifted herself slightly forward, off Deklan’s cock, and back. Since he didn’t take the hint, still held himself still, she did it again.

Forward. Back.

Deklan got her signal. He slipped his hand out from under her shirt, back to her hip, straightened up behind her. She shifted forward and he pulled his hips back, keeping things slow on his re-entry.

She closed her eyes as pleasure demanded repetition. That was a bad idea. She opened them again as thoughts tried to surface.

They could just fuck right off.

Deklan’s slow and steady pace was good, but, she didn’t want slow and steady tonight. She needed fast, hard, rough.

“Fuck me faster.” she demanded.

Deklan picked up the pace.


That was better.

But not enough.

“Fuck me harder.” she ordered.

Deklan folded himself over her, wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tighter into him, holding her firm against his chest, and fucked her harder.

Fuck, yeah. That’s what she was talking about.

More of her muscles were called on to help brace herself. Her body started doing whatever the hell it wanted. Her back arched. Her hands couldn’t decide between stretching or fisting. Her face contorted with pleasure into what probably looked like expressions of pain.

She definitely wasn’t thinking anything anymore. She was nothing but moans and gasps.

She barely registered Deklan’s groaning in her ear.

She was so close.

She mewled, desperate to reach that high.

Deklan shifted the arm around her waist, his hand sliding down her front, finding her clit. He strummed her bud, circled, his hips not missing a single beat.

Yeah... yeah... yeah... yeahyeahyeah

Crying out, she came. Hard.

She slapped at the wall. Her legs shook, her thighs pressed together.

Fuck. Yes.

Deklan kept thrusting against her, his rhythm slipping, his grip on her tightening.

Finally, he came. Growling and grunting his way through the maelstrom.

His breath huffed at her ear, warmed her neck, sent tingles down her spine.

Holy shit.

That had been...

... holy shit.

Deklan pressed a kiss to her neck, murmured something she didn’t catch, then shifted away from her, stepped back, slipping out of her, leaving her empty.

She shut her eyes, resting her cheek against the wall, the coolness nice against her overheated skin.

Post release, thoughts started to solidify again, everything she’d been feeling moments before, crashing down on her once more.

Shit, shit, shit.

She’d escaped reality for a handful of minutes... and thrown herself into a whole new problem - taking Deklan as a lover could prove painful in the end.

She opened her eyes when Deklan settled a hand on her hip, shifted away from him.

Reaching for her jeans, she pulled them, and her panties up, redid her fly. Beside her, Deklan pulled up his own pants, tucked himself away.

She turned from him, redid her ponytail. It didn’t need redoing, but she needed something to do.

“Lucy - ” Deklan murmured behind her.

He took her elbow gently, and with a slight tug, asked her to look at him. She reluctantly obliged, braced herself to meet his gaze.

“Lucy,” he repeated, a lot more emotion in those two syllables than there should be.

“I’m sorry for what I said.” he murmured.

She looked down at her feet, back up at him, embarrassed.

Now in her right mind, she mentally cringed at her behaviour. She couldn’t believe she’d tried to slap him.

“I’m sorry I tried to slap you.” she said sheepishly.

Deklan smiled softly.

“I hope...” he said quietly, “I hope you’re not sorry about...” he searched her eyes, left the words ‘about us having sex’ unsaid.

She blinked, swallowed. She probably should be sorry, was already worried about how things would end between them, but...

“No, not sorry.” she told him.

His smile stretched wider.

“Good.” he said. “Me neither.”

He stepped into her, his hands settling on her waist. His expression turned serious.

“If you’re going after your sister, you’re going to need help.” he said.

She nodded.

“Thank you.” she murmured.

He pulled her even closer, his arms going around her as hers snaked around his back.

She settled her cheek on his chest, let out a tired sigh.

It felt nice being in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and strength. She’d worry about how nice it felt later. Right then, she gave herself permission to take the comfort offered.

She needed it.

It had been one long, tumultuous night.


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