WYLDER MAGIC Camille Anthony To Joyce. Sister extraordinary: Cook, babysitter, proofreader, chauffeur. This one, I wouldn’t have written without you. Thanks! Chapter One Thursday, October 21, 11:00 p.m. (Northeastern Division time) “By the Lord and Lady, Wylder…! How did you come to misplace the Academy’s most promising student?” By totally fucking up, asshole. How else?Wylder sneered at Lemuel, refusing to give a verbal answer to the irritating Council member. Just being here, orderedto be here, had his temper flaring hotter than the Salamander-ignited fires that were blazing through San Francisco at this very moment. I saw something I wanted, something wondrous, and with my usual damned arrogance, tried to snatch it for myself. “…And why are you only now bringing this to our attention?” Elias Wylder—acknowledged the most powerful Warlock since his evil ancestor, Grimm the Rogue—glared at the speaker until the burly, hairy man gulped and hunched down into his seat. What had gotten into Lemuel “the Mule” Westerner? The were-panther knew better than to speak to him in that tone of voice. He couldn’t possibly be thinking about challenging me? Even drawing upon the enhanced power bestowed by his mated state, he doesn’t have a hope in hell of defeating me. Any contest between the two of us would be no contest. “I, too, would like to know the particulars of how Miss Maganistus graduated, yet never came before this Council to accept her diploma and wand. Her graduation shock waves have been reported from as far away as the Outer Isles!” He turned to face Lady Selima, sensing her nurturing magick as her softly spoken words flowed over him, calming his fractious anger. “Until now, I deemed it a personal matter. I didn’t feel the Council needed the information, as at the time, it did not fringe upon National Security. It does now.” Her gentle mind reached out, attempting to touch and soothe his turbulent spirit. He closed his eyes, resting a brief moment in the peace she generated before mentally jerking back. With a sharp shake of his head, he broke contact with the compassionate Lady, unable to afford even one second of weakness. The fluctuations in his power were increasing, his control deteriorating, daily. “Stop stroking my aura, Selima…you weren’t invited.” The mellow magicker spread her hands out palm up. “I sense great upheaval in your heart and soul. I but seek to ease—” “Butt out! I don’t need you softening me up.” His low growl rumbled through the room like static electricity. “Don’t make me tell you again.” The dark menace in his voice made the others cringe, but it didn’t surprise him to see Selima walking toward him, arms outstretched. Her husband drew her back, throwing an admonishing glare toward the male upsetting his mate. “She means no harm, Wylder.” Antoiyn Grooden placed a comforting hand over his wife’s while his other hand furtively sketched a powerful protection rune in the air. Wylder snorted, an imp of adversity temping him to burn a rune of his own into the air. “Stand down, Grooden. As if any sign of yours could stop my magick was I so inclined to—” “Oh, for the goddess’ sake, Wylder, cut out all the dramatics and just tell us what happened with the girl? We put you in charge of seeing to her graduation exercises and now no one can find a trace of her. It’s as if she fell off the face of the earth. So, what did you do…kill her?” Horrified silence cloaked the room’s occupants in the aftermath of the dangerous outburst made by Westerner’s mate until the silence shattered under the bark of Wylder’s involuntary laughter. Only Judith would actually come out and say something like that to me! How could I have ever fucked this mentally blond airhead? Oh, well, he reasoned a second later, chuckling and shaking his head, my cock didn’t give a fuck about her absent thought processes… His grudging amusement over her customary no-clue-ism gradually faded as his night-dark eyes touched on each of the mated pairs, noting with disdain how they had drawn back, distancing themselves from poor Judith and the anticipated backlash of his anger. Wylder’s black eyes flashed, a grimace drawing his mouth tight. “Look at you, presenting as small a target as possible, pretending you aren’t frightened enough to piss yourselves,” he taunted, not bothering to hide his disgust at the members of the council. “None save Selima and Judith have the courage to speak their minds, let alone meet my gaze.” He snorted, lip curling up in a mocking half smile when even the Elven pair—next in power to him—refused to acknowledge his derision. “Judith may not have enough sense to fill a thimble, but apparently, she and Selima are the only ones in these chambers with any balls.” Like a caged beast, he paced the parquet floor, running agitated hands through his shoulder-length dense black mass of hair. Turning on his audience he shouted, “What has this council come to? Once, this body of rulers stood for something. Now all I see is a pathetic group of cowards. Is this all that remains of the mighty Council of Magick? Well, you need an infusion of new blood. You need me!” “Not yet, we don’t,” Lemuel snapped, face distorted with a mix of jealousy, envy and fear. “You don’t get to take control of this Council until you are mated.” “Meanwhile,” Grooden interrupted, smoothly bringing the conversation back on track, “you were telling us about Lady Maganistus—” “Not ‘Lady’ until she receives her wand, Chairperson Grooden.” “So noted, Councilman Westerner.” “As for what happened with LadyMaganistus…” Wylder’s emphasis on the title did not go unnoted by his listeners, “I supervised her graduation, which she passed with glowing expertise. I left her sleeping, recuperating from the rite. When I returned, I found she had escaped. “ “Escaped? Why did she need to escape? She was a graduate, not a prisoner. What did she do…better yet, what did youdo to her?” Wylder did not like having to answer Judith Westerner’s impertinent questions. Besides, the memory of what he had done made his cock, never totally quiescent since that long ago evening, swell to painful hardness. Cautiously considering how he would answer, Wylder chose his words with care, his rebellious thoughts running in counterpoint. “I chose to personally supervise the ceremony having judged her too new to her powers and undisciplined in their use, to risk her Openingwith just anyone.” I didn’t want any Warlock’s cock in her but mine! “There was a danger that she might lose control of her new powers. Mine are such that I could control any wild magick that might get loose.” There was a danger she would forge an emotional tie with the male who acted as her Athame. Lord and Lady help me, but I would not allow that! “Knowing she feared my reputation, I wove a spell of deception and presented myself as her Athame. Once we joined, I knew her to be my future mate.” She feared me, feared my magick, thinking I wanted to take her over, control her. She knew I wanted more than the night and balked at making the permanent mating commitment I wanted from her. “When our melded magicks revealed my true face she panicked, lost control. So did I.” I had never been so connected, never seen someone as clearly as I saw her at that moment. I entered her so deeply, she felt me in her soul…and I felt her take over mine. The closeness, the passion changed us, formed us…we became two halves of a whole, our mating fated by the Lord and Lady… The terseness of his words faded as he paused to breathe, to gain control of his emotional agitation. He shuttered his dark eyes with a thick fringe of sooty lashes, his gaze flicking to the two empty throne-like chairs at the apex of the round table. His lips tightened as his hands fisted at his side. Jaw tightening, he swallowed thickly. Gods, how I hate being answerable to these weak excuses for leaders when, by rights, they should be answering to me! More than he hated admitting the mistakes he had made with Morven, Elias Ethan Winston Wylder hated needing the Council’s help. “I was not prepared when she called forth my power. We merged totally.” “Great Lord and Lady, no wonder that power wave was off the scale!” He swung his head around to eye the new speaker. The Vampire representative flashed both sets of fangs in a wide, suggestive grin. “Man, that must have been one hell of an explosive Opening ritual…” Wylder nodded silent agreement, the memories welling up in a flood… She whimpered, twisting her lithe, slender body sharply against him. For the first time in his life he wished himself possessed of a smaller cock. Her breath came through her open mouth in gasping little pants, her distress so acute she could not hold back her moans. He looked up at her face, contorted in pain. Dark gray eyes swam with tears, her deep auburn hair, darkened with sweat, lay plastered against her cheeks and neck, evidence of her weakening efforts to impale her pussy upon his steel hard erection. Glancing down to where their bodies interlocked, he winced at the angry red color of her dainty little cunt, once so elegant with its smooth, shaven mound. Her swollen and inflamed lips throbbed against him, stretched obscenely thin by the ridged ...
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