Twisted Magic (Book 2 of the Ink Series)

Torture

The amused expression left Hutch's eyes at my demand. "It didn't happen. I come from a long line of super naturals. I wasn't turned it was more or less instinctive. And I don't call myself a witch. I consider it an endowment of power others would be lucky to experience for themselves."

He brought his hand to his chin, and ran his finger along his bottom lip. "What about you?"

I pushed my hair from my eyes, studying my bare feet, lost in the decision to open up to him. Was it the right thing to do? I wasn't sure.

"It's okay; you don't have to explain it to me. I think I understand." Hutch sat forward on the bed. He looked around my room, searching for something. I wasn't sure what. "Your boyfriend and his friends belong to a dark coven."

I nodded, unable to offer anything more.

"It's more the control behind what they do than them being witches. Honestly, a witch is just a name given by the ordinary. For years, it's been said we cackle, ride around on brooms and stir potions in big cauldrons. However, in all actuality, it's a power someone possesses. It has nothing to do with that. It's the outsiders who placed a label on our kind." He cleared his throat. "They have harnessed a power from somewhere deadly, and they are doing all they can to hold onto it. The more power they have the deadlier they become. I gather that's the reason behind the music, to gain a following?"

I never thought about it like that, but now that I was it made a whole lot of sense.

"So, what about you? Does your family draw from evil, do all of them draw from evil?"

"We draw from elements in nature. What I can do, this is something I was born with, not something you steal like your boyfriend and his friends," Hutch said this with a great deal of anger in his voice.

"Slade didn't steal anything. His family would have died if he didn't accept the help. They gave up a lot for this...coven." I argued. It made me angry to think anybody saw Slade as the bad guy. He wasn't the bad guy.

"This coven used them to gain power. I'm sure they saw something in him worth giving him this power. Even so, it doesn't mean it's not dangerous, and it doesn't mean you should just go along with it." Hutch stared at me, hoping to break through.

"I have no other choice. You don't know what they are capable of."

Hutch shook his head. "You don't know what I am capable of either. I could help you. Nobody should be involved with black magic. It's always fatal. And no matter what you think you can do to fight against it. You can't."

My head was swimming from all the information. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do.

"I could help you," Hutch pursed his lips, staring me down. Why did he think it was so simple?

"How can I accept your help when I don't even know what I need?" I sighed. I stood. Going to the curtains, I parted them and stared out into the night. Remembering the moment I first laid eyes on the lights, how I was drawn to the music. That all vanished, and I didn't know why. I never bothered to ask.

Was the music gone because they got what they wanted? Or were they going with another route. They still played music, but it was in more an intimate setting and Slade Oz and Kidd were writing their own songs.

I spun back around. Hutch was there standing in front of me.

"You need to get away from them. What they are a part of is evil, and you're a nice girl, I'd hate to see you falling into the palm of something so sinister." His hand ran across my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes darkened, he stared at me, I swallowed, trying to pull it together.

I felt like a moth flying so close to the fire it was burning my wings, but I didn't care I wanted to get even closer. I raised my head, welcoming his fingers into my hair, the feeling making my scalp prickle.

I bit my lip. "I don't want that," I admitted.

Hutch moved closer. I backed up, the window sill digging into my leg. "Let me help."

He dropped his hand to my neck, his fingers caressing the flesh. I closed my eyes, my heart pounding in my throat at this point. I knew what was to come, and I was waiting for it. Dying to know what it felt like to feel his lips pressed against mine.

Hutch leaned forward. This was it, the moment. I pushed against the carpet, on my tiptoes; he took hold of my face coming an inch from my lips, but lingered long enough to run his nose against mine. A million butterflies plundered my chest at his soft touch.

My arms snaked around him. He came nearer running his lips down my throat. His fingers stroked my hair. I arched my back to get even closer to him, my body dying for more from him. Every fiber was pleading for his mouth to connect with mine, to put me out of my misery.

"All you have to do is ask," he said, his voice husky, his jaw flexing under the amount of effort he was putting into not kissing me. I tugged him closer, his chest against me. His hand slid down my back finding my backside and tugged me even closer. He pushed into me and pressed my back against the wall, pinning me in place.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn't bring myself to kiss him. And I couldn't bring myself to ask.

"It's alright, Doll." He backed off, ending our close encounter.

I nodded. It had to be alright, because I didn't have it in me to make such a choice. It was obvious there was an attraction, but that didn't mean I needed to follow through with it.