A Bite of Magick Read online

  A Bite of MagicK

  Rhyannon Byrd

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Levi’s: Levi Strauss & Co. Corporation

  Pottery Barn: International Designers Group, Inc. Corporation

  Betsey Johnson: B. J. Vines, Inc. Corporation

  Jaguar: Jaguar Cars Limited Corporation United Kingdom

  Land Rover: Rover Company Limited, The Corporation

  The Sopranos: Time Warner Entertainment Company, L.P. American Television and Communications Corporation (DE Corp.); Warner Communications Inc. (DE Corp.) Limited Partnership

  Bewitched: Screen Gems, Inc. Corporation

  The Man Show: Funhouse Productions, Inc. Corporation

  McEwans (Scottish Ale): Scottish & Newcastle Brewiers PLC Corporation United Kingdom

  Playgirl: Playgirl Key Club, Inc.

  The Man Show: Funhouse Productions, INC

  Harry Potter: Time Warner Entertainment Company, L.P. American Television and Communications Corporation

  Prologue

  Susie MacIntyre was a wicked little Witch, and Kieran McKendrick was about to ride her hard and long.

  It’d been one hell of a week, what with his cousin’s Binding Ceremony and obvious bliss. Not that Kieran wasn’t happy as hell for the man he loved like his own brother—but the enviable glow of pleasure Lach wore these days was wearing him thin. He hated to admit it, but he was losing the battle against the darkness within his soul. Bit by bit, it was rooting beneath his carefree surface, tunneling under his skin, making his bitterness all the more frustrating.

  Bitterness he’d done well to shield from even those who knew him best.

  And though he struggled to deny it, Kieran could feel the hard edge of its power, steady with intent, digging its claws into his heart until he felt as if the burdensome organ would shatter from the mounting pressure.

  In short, it was a living, breathing nightmare, and he was going to do what he did best to forget about it—if only for a few moments—and screw the hell out of a hot little Cailleach.

  Susie lay back on her lavish, satin-covered bed, her smile wantonly sly as she spread her smooth, pale thighs, letting him see just how wet and ready she was for him.

  He stared with his dark-as-midnight eyes, trying to work up some hunger for it—for her. Damn, even a flicker of interest would’ve been a relief, but about the only bloody response he could manage was the hard-on slowly taking shape within his pants.

  Thankfully, it was more than impressive enough to blind her to the fact that he was having to work really hard to get “up” the enthusiasm to nail her.

  Saephus, what the hell was his problem? Women didn’t get better looking than Susie, even if she had the personality of a pit bull, which was being damn unfair to the breed. She was tall and lean with a drenched pussy and pink-tipped breasts like melons. He should’ve been drooling like a randy dog, instead of mulling over the fact that Lach had found love.

  Damn it, he was genuinely happy for the man. So why was he so pissed off? Why was he so damn restless?

  Maybe because he understood his own turn was coming—and he knew only too well there wasn’t another Evan Hayes waiting just around the corner for him.

  Not that he wanted his cousin’s pretty little mortal wife. Oh, he’d have fucked her in a heartbeat if she weren’t already taken by his best friend, but he held no love for her beyond that of family.

  She was Lach’s now. That was it. End of story.

  No—it was the connection they shared. Kieran marveled at it—chewed on it during the long Scottish nights, trying to get a handle on it.

  It was an age-old question. How did a man know when he had the right woman? Or Witch, in his case, as he avoided the gnach whenever possible. And he sure as hell never screwed them.

  But what was the sign for that kind of love? What did it feel like? And where in the name of Saephus’ sacred battleground was he going to find a woman who could accept him as he was, thorns and all?

  He snorted to himself, thinking “thorns” was probably putting it a little lightly—spreading it a little thin. He’d managed to contain that primitive side of his soul for so long, but he could feel his control weakening, like precious oil slipping between his fingers as he tried to trap it within his palm. And when that tenuous hold was finally lost, Kieran knew there’d be hell to pay.

  Damn it, he should have heeded his father’s advice long ago and embraced his birth curse, rather than battle the beast for absolute dominance. His resistance had steadily become a weakness…a distraction…a vulnerability—dangerous liabilities he simply couldn’t afford these days.

  Things he could never afford, damn it, but certainly not now. Not with a pain-in-the-ass mating curse just waiting to knock him on his ass.

  Before him, Susie spread her legs farther, raising her knees higher, eyeing the bulge of his cock behind the fly of his black jeans like it was gonna be her friggin’ dessert. She licked her lips, and not even the sight of her pink little tongue had his blood racing. Man, he must be dead inside. That—or bored outta his ever-loving mind. Since when had nailing a gorgeous Witch become such a bloody chore for the McKendrick cousin known to fuck for days on end when the hunger was riding him hard?

  He nearly laughed at the thought, thinking that he and his cousins were all pretty much known for their outrageous sex drives. They caught quite a bit of flack for it, too, but had learned to take the good-natured ribbing in stride—except for Dugan, who was just the sort that one didn’t comfortably tease. Something about those dark green eyes, their intent expression of constant alertness, combined with the title of Enforcer, tended to make him the kind of Magick that most steered clear from. All, that is, except for his cousins, who took an almost painful joy in pushing his buttons.

  Susie gave a throaty moan, jerking his attention back to the moment, though he was beginning to wish he’d never bothered coming here in the first place. She was beautiful, aye, but somehow…not what he wanted. Though what he did want, he wasn’t even sure he could say. Just…not this.

  He watched as she eased back on her elbows atop the black satin sheets, a lascivious pose meant to entice, and he tried like hell to play along. The gods only knew he’d played the game enough times to go through the motions, even if his heart wasn’t in it.

  Huh—and wasn’t that the crux of the issue right there? Wasn’t he waiting for his own turn to be cursed by the Council…simply because his heart had never been in it?

  “Come here, Kieran,” Susie purred in a seductive murmur, demanding his attention as she trailed her blood-red fingernails down the sides of her voluptuous breasts. “I’ve got something that’ll make you feel all better.”

  His black brow rose at the trite words. “Who says I’m no’ feeling fine, Suse?”

  Her rouged lips lifted at the corners, ice blue eyes moving over the shoulder-length black silk of his hair, across the wide breadth of his T-shirt-covered chest, before settling on the firm, sensual line of his mouth. “You look like someone just stole your best friend. Pouting that Lach’ll never go tomcatting around with you again, big guy? Because I’ve seen the way he looks at his little wife, and that man’s cock has been staked for good. It’s sad really. I used to enjoy fucking my way through the McKendrick boys. You’re an impressive group, if I do say so myself.”

  “I’ll be sure to pass on the compliment,” he drawled in a sardonic tone that was clearly lost on her, and crossed the distance to her bed in a long, lazy stride that spoke of power and masculine grace, if not a subtle touch of danger. He kept his black eyes glued to her cunt, watching the way it breathed
, dripping with cream the closer he came. Feeling the sudden need to get the whole damn thing over and done with, he ripped open his fly and took his still growing erection into the firm, biting grip of his fist. He gritted his teeth, and a few violent pumps of his shaft had the wide, round head wet and purple.

  Through narrowed eyes, he watched how Susie eyed his cock with rapt fascination while he dug a rubber out of his back pocket, ripped it open with his teeth, and slipped the thin latex over the burning length of skin. He pumped again, feeling his blood surge beneath his fingers, the ever-thickening root transforming into an impossibly long, massive rod of steel-like flesh.

  True to the name McKendrick, his size went beyond that which was normally considered “well-endowed”—and he could feel the little Witch’s lust for every single vein-ridged inch of his impressive equipment. Too bad he’d grown bored with “impressing” wicked little Witches ages ago.

  She moaned up at him while her heart-shaped face flushed with heat and hunger, perfect teeth biting into her blood-red lip. Kieran grabbed her beneath her knees, shoved them back against her chest, and drove straight into her, giving her every brutal inch with his first digging thrust.

  A raw, carnal sound of ecstasy and surprise shot past her lips as she fell back against the bed from the force of the powerful impact, her perfect features warped into a twisted mask of pain and pleasure beneath him. He’d screwed her enough times to know how rough she liked it—to know her limits…or lack thereof. He could ride her as hard as he dared, his massive cock pounding her with a driving, savage force, and she’d only beg him for more.

  There’d been a time when he’d found her insatiable, bloodthirsty sex drive a refreshing change from the restraint he’d normally been forced to use, even with the most experienced Cailleachs, the only women who could truly hope to enjoy his size—but now it just bored him.

  Hell, these days, everything bored him…including mindless fucking.

  No two ways about it, he was in some serious shit. Susie’s juice-soaked cunt gave way too easily around him, and the boredom settled heavily into his balls, dragging them down like weights. Ah, hell, his mind was already wandering…drifting away.

  Shit, man, focus! Focus!

  He pulled back, drove deeper, changed his angle and then rammed even harder, staring down at her with sightless eyes as he desperately tried to lose himself within her accommodating depths. He felt a moment’s remorse that he could use her so coldly, until the painful raking of her nails down his shirt-covered back reminded him that she was only looking for the fuck his monstrous cock could provide. She held no interest in the man himself—or his demons.

  Saephus, what am I doing here? he thought with an inner snarl directed solely at himself. He forced his hips to work harder, desperate for the release that would leave her wrung out with pleasure and afford him his immediate escape. He had to get away—be alone—and get his bloody head together. He pumped his hips in firm circles, pulsing against Susie’s swollen clit, and she finally broke, writhing around the buried root of his throbbing dick like the cock-hungry little Witch that she was.

  “Yes,” he snarled through his teeth, finally feeling a hot surge of cum blast through the core of his cock. It exploded from the sensitive organ, pumping like blistering lava from the nestled slit in the wide head, and for that one shattering moment, he felt a second of calm—a cool, motionless pool that quieted the raging in his head, offering him one uninterrupted instant of blissful peace.

  The calm before the thundering storm.

  Susie had already fallen thankfully quiet, but his ears were still ringing from the keening pitch of her screams as they continued to echo through the stillness of the night. He sighed, eyes stinging with sweat as it dripped from his head in streaming rivulets, the physical hungers of his body momentarily sated, if not completely satisfied. Arms straight, his hands fisted in the bedding at her shoulders, he was careful not to touch her anywhere but the warm, wet place where his cock impaled her cum-soaked pussy. Blinking her into focus, he saw her eyes were now closed, as if she already slept, and he grunted in relief, pleased to know he’d fucked her into a sound enough sleep that he could easily get away.

  He tightened his muscles, preparing to carefully pull back his hips, when he felt the tingling at the base of his spine, spreading up over his nape, pounding within his temples—and Kieran knew he’d just landed in hell.

  “No!” he roared, plunging involuntarily deeper, waking Susie with his murderous bellow and burgeoning cock, pressing her into the giving mattress as his body came down heavily against her own. “Oh shit! Not now! Not now—”

  He tried to pull out, but Susie’s strong legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, another wave of clenching release instantly firing through her quivering sex. She writhed beneath him, eyes open and passion-glazed, unaware of the danger driving into her greedy depths, and Kieran grasped at the shreds of his control as he struggled not to give over. Their hair flew around their flushed faces, the rumpled bedsheets thrashing in the strong blasts of air as his power broke free, whipping the inside of her immaculate bedroom into a stormy frenzy. His teeth gnashed, jaw aching—but the second the wide head of his cock rammed against her womb, forcing another sharp scream from her throat, Kieran felt the inevitable change coming over him.

  Chapter One

  Three Months Later

  He was in a bad way—so fucking bad it felt as if a noose were cinched around his neck, the world going black from his growing lack of faith that this nightmare would ever be over. For the past three months, he’d searched from one end of the British Isles to the other and found nothing.

  No one.

  Not a single goddamn woman who tempted him.

  No escape.

  And here he thought he’d been prepared for his father and uncles, after the hell he’d watched Lach go through, but the crafty old bastards had struck straight at his Achilles’ heel.

  They hadn’t cursed him—they’d cursed his bloody beast. That part of himself which he struggled against the hardest—that he fought to contain—and here they’d gone and released it with no care whatsoever for the outcome. It was open season on his soul, and Kieran very much feared that once the cursed creature escaped again, once it got another taste of the carnal pleasures of sex, he’d never be able to fully rein it back in.

  Saephus only knew it’d been hard enough to do with Susie, and he hadn’t changed until after he’d fucked her.

  From the time of his birth, he’d been marked with a black curse upon his blood, thanks to the ancient Witch Serena the Sable. A curse that he had always struggled to control, no matter how strongly the Council tried to convince him to do otherwise. He knew the dangers of refusing to embrace what he was, thanks to his mother’s bloodline, but what they couldn’t understand was that he had no choice. To give in would have been far more dangerous than the battle.

  For in truth, he enjoyed the beast’s power far more than his own Magick.

  And it scared the ever-loving hell out of him.

  His father and uncles knew this—knew he feared the animal’s dominance over him, though he’d kept the creature’s increasing restlessness to himself as it grew over the recent years—and yet, still, they had placed the mating curse upon him in a way that left him completely at its mercy. That was the most disturbing thought of all, because it meant that as much as they wanted little ones to bounce upon their knees and to fill the family halls with laughter, there was a greater purpose behind their dangerous meddling than mere procreation.

  An agenda the Council had as yet kept to themselves. Saephus, there had to be. Nothing else could even begin to justify them taking these blasted curses to such diabolical lengths.

  Something had to be coming—a danger brewing that would be a threat to them all. It was the only justification Kieran could conceive of that would push them to such extremes.

  The Council obviously wanted to ensure that the family was not only assured of a future genera
tion in the form of bonny little McKendricks, but they wanted to see the current generation in prime condition to handle whatever might be headed their way. It was the worst form of coercion, but clearly, their logical conclusion was to see the whole bloody lot of them mated. For only through a Binding Ceremony based upon true, everlasting love, could a Warlock ever hope to gain a definitive knowledge and understanding of his power in its absolute entirety.

  Not that he gained greater, or even extra Magick through the union with his bith-bhuan gra, his soul mate, but the perfect balance that having her by his side provided within his soul opened a doorway into his ability to access that power—to harness his Magick for the purposes of protecting his loved ones.

  Yin and yang. The chalice and the blade. The concept was nothing new—the knowledge that two parts could produce one perfect union. And from that perfection was born the understanding of all that one’s Magick could accomplish.

  It was a subject looked upon gravely by the Council, for they had learned their lessons the hard way. Believing themselves invincible, they had arrogantly refused to be mated and bonded to the Witches who bore their sons, leaving their fledgling families vulnerable to attack. One by one, they had lost their chances at everlasting happiness as they lost their lovers—which is why Kieran suspected they were now willing to take such warped measures to see his cousins and him successfully bonded for all eternity.

  His father and uncles knew firsthand the agony and repercussions of their mistakes. And with a little help from their clever mating curses, they intended to see those same mistakes were not repeated by their sons and nephews.

  And the boon of their endeavors—they got the grandchildren they had so desperately been waiting for.

  For such a powerful force of Magick, they were still a group of old softies at the end of the day.

  Nosey old softies who had seen fit to play havoc with his and his cousins’ lives with the cunning of the devil himself.