Magical Temptations Read online

  Magical Temptations

  Biomystic Security Book Two

  Jaliza A. Burwell

  Magical Temptations

  Copyright © 2018 by Jaliza A. Burwell

  All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copy Edited by Bookends Editing

  Book Cover Design by Jessica Soltes

  Printed in the United States of America

  To L.A. Boruff for taking on all my crazy.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Author’s Note

  Coming Soon

  From the Author

  Stalker Links

  Chapter 1

  “And how did that make you feel?” I asked Rhett Gale, a six-hundred-and–something-year-old vampire.

  Rhett’s jaw tightened. “Furious.”

  His golden eyes blazed, a red hue covering them. Only those who knew him well enough would see it. The man had hundreds of years to perfect control over his emotions.

  Predator eyes peeked out from underneath curly brown hair and right now, with the hard expression, he looked like he was watching his next meal. I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore my awareness of his attention as it flooded through my body.

  “You shouldn’t have felt that.” I frowned and looked at the wand before me.

  “What should I have felt?” he asked. “I don’t appreciate my control being tested.”

  I flinched. “That’s why I asked you to test this out. Because of your control. If I did this with someone like Venni or Alijah, they would’ve torn me apart. Looks like I picked the right person.”

  “They wouldn’t have torn you apart,” he said, the anger seeping from his eyes, his shoulders loosening as he relaxed.

  “You don’t know that.”

  He shifted the conversation, darkness seeping into his words. “You don’t think I could’ve gone rogue? Gone on a massacre, tearing into everyone and gorging on their blood?”

  I stared him right in the eyes. He was lashing out at me. I understood why. I’d been a victim of my own emotions a time or twenty. I loosened the tightness forming between my shoulder blades, expelling the tension as it built. Rhett would never hurt me.

  “No.”

  His eyes widened at my response, the truth clear in my expression. I really did believe he’d never hurt me. I leaned back in my seat.

  “You would never do anything, even if your instincts took complete control. You, of all people, understand loss the most and would never inflict that kind of pain on others.” I refused to look away from him. My magic responded, and by the slight widening of his eyes, I knew my own were now a glowing green. Proof that my magic was at the surface, itching to be put to use. “Vampires are always said to be emotionless, but that’s not true. They just have to live through so much shit that they learn to bury their true emotions, even from themselves.”

  He didn’t respond. I cleared my throat and looked down at the device, breaking eye contact and dissipating the suffocation of the heavy tension. This was the closest I’d ever come to mentioning his murdered family from his pre-vampire life. He’d never told me what had happened, and it wasn’t something I wanted to bring up because then he might ask me uncomfortable questions. Like, how did I know about it? No way was I admitting that I held onto files of every employee in this company. Lombardi would be furious and go on about breach of security. And I liked my job. I really did.

  “I’m going to do some tweaking.” I frowned and tapped my pen. “If this nearly put you at risk, then it’s obviously flawed.”

  I didn’t like mistakes, and this device hadn’t come close to what I wanted, despite success of initial tests. Nothing was working like I intended. These last couple of weeks had been one disaster after another, and my lab was still showing signs of the last explosion. My focus wasn’t here right now, it was with Elliot.

  “What was it supposed to do?” Rhett asked before my thoughts could go in the downward spiral that always occurred when I thought about Elliot still in the hospital.

  “Make you sleepy.”

  Rhett blinked a couple of times and then broke out into a booming laughter. “Anger is not sleepy.”

  “I know that,” I snapped and then winced when my magic flared and the glassware on the lab bench shook. I sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. Running my hand through my light brown hair, I scowled when my hand snagged on a knot. It seemed everything in my life was chaotic right now. “Sorry. I just want this to work, and I’ve been struggling with it for a couple of weeks now.”

  “Like a sleep bomb?”

  I shook my head. “Sleep bombs are too common and easily avoided. This won’t be as easy. There isn’t an antidote for this.”

  He shrugged. “Magic takes time, patience. You’ll figure it out. And I know you’ve been busy lately dealing with Lombardi.”

  I groaned and covered my green eyes. This was not a conversation I wanted to have—with Rhett of all people.

  He chuckled. “The man is relentless.”

  “I wish he’d leave me alone.”

  “You did a good job with Shanton three weeks ago. He’s not going to leave you alone when he knows he can utilize your abilities. Lombardi is an efficient man, and you’re a useful tool.”

  “Enough,” I said and resumed tapping my pen as I stared at my current toy. The device looked like a wand the size of my hand and all a person had to do was point at the person they wanted to sleep and say the activation word.

  It should be easy, putting the target to sleep. So far, I’d made people angry or depressed. For some reason, the magic didn’t want to do what I wanted, and I was tempted to bang my head against a wall. The headache would be less painful than my failures.

  “You’re nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous,” I said.

  He pointedly looked at my hand that was still tapping the pen. “No, you aren’t the nervous type, but it doesn’t mean you can’t get nervous. You’re nervous.”

  I sighed and forced my hand to stop its incessant movement. I pretended to make a note to have something to do.

  “Laila, what is going on?”

  “I’m meeting Lombardi after we’re done here.”

  He waited quietly, and I sighed, giving in. He’d wait me out if he needed to. “I’m just worried about the project I’m going to present to him.”

  Rhett nodded. “You’ll be fine.”

  “It’s not that the project is hard. It’s what the project means, what it represents. I’m nervous about that. That’s why I’m seeing him.”

  “To get approval.”

  I nodded. “If I succeed, this will open up possibilities, some that aren’
t necessarily good.”

  “But you also see the possibilities that are good.”

  “Yes!” I huffed out a breath. “We can ensure our people don’t get hurt.” I bit my lip, my thoughts going back to Elliot. He was in the hospital because of a strong magical attack meant for me. The guilt ate at me. He’d gone into a coma for something that should have hit me. He was fine, still recovering, but when I first saw him on the floor, skin pale, eyes closed, too still to be alive, I nearly lost my shit. We weren’t really close, working on a balance in our new friendship, but still, I’d wanted to tear someone apart. I had pushed that anger onto the bitch who had hurt him, but it wasn’t enough.

  My magic wanted to lash out more, and the last couple of weeks had been tough. My magic wasn’t listening to me like I wanted, and that pissed me off even more. I needed control in my life but one syphon took that away from me. I felt like I was twelve again, sending one of my foster siblings to the hospital because she’d teased me.

  “He’s awake now,” Rhett said, understanding what I was thinking.

  “I know.” Elliot had been unconscious until the day before. I frowned at the memory. He’d had no way to protect himself. He was pure human, and yet he still put himself between the magic and me. These last three weeks had been absolutely miserable.

  But this project… if I succeeded, he wouldn’t have to be at risk like that again.

  “Go and see Elliot,” Rhett said, standing. He eyed the wand before him like it’d activate on its own and decide to make Rhett its bitch. “And stay patient. You’ll figure out your nappy wand.”

  “I’m not calling it that.”

  “Then what are you calling it?”

  “Sweet Dreams Wand, SDW,” I mumbled.

  He didn’t comment, chuckling instead as he left the room. I stared after him, already missing his presence. Contact with Rhett always felt like I put my tongue to a battery as tingles danced across my skin. His strong energy flowed under his skin, and touching him was an addiction. If we touched, we literally created sparks that had nothing to do with attraction. Though, I was attracted to him.

  I sighed and prepared myself for the meeting. I even behaved myself, remembering how I’d used transportation to pop into his office when we’d first started working together. He didn’t appreciate me exploiting his weaknesses and scaring his secretary, Ellana. According to him, I took a couple years off her life. After that, he demanded I walked like everyone else. He was as much a control freak as I was.

  So, I took a slower way to his office, taking the elevator like everyone else. Transporting would have been so much faster. I could have been there with just a thought. Instead, I had to waste three minutes and twenty-four seconds to travel the normal way. But no, Lombardi didn’t like it.

  I smiled at Ellana. She was a kind, older woman with honey brown eyes. Not many could get past her if she didn’t want them to. The only thing I knew about her was that she was a magic user and if pushed, she could flatten any meathead trying to get by her. She returned my smile and nodded, letting me know I could go through.

  I knocked on the door that was slightly ajar.

  “Come in.” His deep voice did funny things to my stomach. Ever since he’d kissed me and we practically made out of the dance floor at Fates—in front of all his employees—he’d been setting off fireworks in my stomach. He hadn’t come on to me again, but he would give me that look men gave women they wanted to toss on a bed, table, or countertop to fuck them into oblivion.

  If he weren’t my boss, I probably would have taken him up on that offer, too. But we’d been keeping it professional, and I wanted it to stay that way. Or at least I was keeping it professional. So as I walked into the office, I pretended not to notice the way his dark eyes followed my movements, checking me out. He didn’t do it purely out of interest, but also clinically, as if to make sure I hadn’t lost a limb since the last time he’d seen me. The first time I saw him after Fates was a couple days later. He had looked me over exactly like he did now, and then nodded and said, “Good, you’re still whole.” He hadn’t stopped giving me that same once-over every time he saw me.

  Despite sitting behind his desk, I could tell he was tall. When he stood, I had to tilt my head to look at him, and I was five-eight. He had broad features—all his clothes tailored to fit his massive frame—and a nice smooth chocolate skin tone. His black hair had grown out in the last couple of weeks and had a slight curl to it, just like I knew it would. I hoped he continued to delay getting it cut until I could see how curly it got. The longer hair added an edge to Lombardi, giving him a wilder look to match the danger that lurked in his energy.

  Everything about him was dark and dangerous. He attracted people to him, but also repelled them. The closer I got to him, the more his energy pressed into me, acting as a blanket of warmth. He smelled of what I imagined hell would smell like. Not like death or burning bodies, not sour or disgusting like sulfur. He smelled like a warm blanket out of the dryer with a hint of firewood. Apparently, there was a kind of comfort to hell that tempted people to throw caution to the wind.

  Then again, he was Black Dog, a hellhound intent on taking down those who broke deals. I knew from experience that he enjoyed a good hunt, but he wasn’t a beast. He was fair. And he cared for everyone who worked underneath him, which made it all the worse when they tried to betray him.

  We’d found a couple of traitors during Shanton’s visit, and let’s just say the rumors about what happened to them didn’t come close to reality. I didn’t think too much on it. I didn’t deal with death, I ran the other way, but I knew how our world worked.

  “How are you doing?” Lombardi asked as I settled down.

  “About the same,” I replied. “Busy.”

  Busy working. Busy haunting Elliot’s hospital room. But I didn’t say any of that. He would only make me go home and rest, and if I did that, I’d go insane. I needed to stay distracted or I’d end up thinking about Elliot. Or about the guys, or about that battle with that syphon that haunted my sleepless nights.

  His eyes flickered over my facial features, taking in the dark bags under my eyes. “So I have something to discuss with you.” The frown he held deepened, which didn’t bode well for me. That had to mean bad news, and bad news meant I should probably run away. I didn’t like bad news. Then again, who did? “But before we get into that, I know you wanted to talk to me about something.”

  Nodding, I grabbed my little bag and dug out my prototype, placing it on the desk between us. After leaning back and pushing away my nerves, I focused on his expression and prepared for this next part.

  An eyebrow raised, that was it. Lombardi was waiting me out. Darn. He was not going to make it easy on me. His senses picked up on my nervousness.

  “I don’t want to continue with this project until I have your blessing.”

  His other eyebrow rose to join with the first one. “You’ve never come to me for permission. You usually go to your supervisor, tell her how it is, and then disappear in your lab and do it, whether you got approval or not.”

  I nodded. “Yes, but this—is a delicate and complicated project.”

  He relaxed into his seat, ready to listen. He glanced at the device, taking in its weird shape. It was small enough to fit in both my hands, with three prongs on it that look like they were meant to help it stand. The ends of the prongs were rounded. A canister, about five inches tall stood on top of the three prongs.

  “This has the capability to drain a person of their magic or energy,” I said. “I thought about that syphon we fought against and how she could absorb magic. Then with Elliot in a coma because of magic, this idea came to mind. I want your permission to finish the project. If I can complete this, possibilities are going to open up for the humans in this company. Of course, not all of it is good.”

  “Explain it clearly,” he said, expression blank, eyes on the contraption. “I want you to say what will change.”

  “I only want to make a h
andful of these. For the biggest baddies, the ones who are too powerful for our humans to fight. I don’t want them in a position where they can’t protect themselves.” I shifted in my seat, growing uncomfortable with what I needed to admit to. “But creating this thing, completing this project, means others will want to replicate it. It won’t be easy, but if the wrong person gets their hands on a device, they’ll be able to figure it out. And then the possibilities of what they do with it will be endless. They could potentially take a person’s magic away completely and kill them, or they could find a way to harness it for themselves. Hell, they could probably create a bigger device and do more damage.” I sighed and stared at Lombardi, refusing to look away. I needed him to understand what this could potentially mean. “That’s why I want your permission. If I make this, it’ll be leaps for us, but if I make this and it gets in the wrong hands, we put people in danger. This will be coming from your lab. They’ll blame you for it. Unless you throw me under the bus, of course.”

  “What will it do exactly?”

  “It’ll take away a good portion of a person’s magic. Not all of it, but enough to weaken them. You know the effects if they’re drained. They’ll be weak, sluggish, unable to cast anything. It’ll give our humans a fighting chance. And if we go up against a big baddie, it’ll make it easier to detain them—it won’t kill them. In theory, I know a way to prevent it from taking away too much magic. I won’t ever make a device designed only to kill.”

  I finished and waited. Waited for his verdict, waited to find if I’d be able to help people like Elliot to ensure they stayed safe. I wanted to make it, but I wasn’t going to create something that could be used against us.

  “Do it,” he said, expression serious, eyes lit with interest as he leaned slightly forward. “I’ll back you.”

  I was surprised by his response, and it showed in my expression.