Four-Letter Words by Evans, Gabrielle (top 10 books of all time .txt) 📗

Drowned in the inky black, he pushed his energy out into the night. Like tiny, marching ants, his magic crawled across the barren landscape, flexing rhythmically and searching for any outside disturbances. Immediately, he picked up on his brothers, even determining who rode in which vehicle. Ignoring the familiar magic, he kept searching, jerking slightly when he picked up the faintest hint of foreign energy.

“Do you feel that?” he asked, sending his thoughts to Lynk.

“Yeah, but I can’t figure out which direction it’s coming from.”

“Same here.” Thane could feel other witches in the area, and he was pretty sure they belonged to the circle they were searching for, but he couldn’t get a bead on which direction to lead his companions. “We need to be stronger.”

“Ready when you are.”

Reclaiming some of his magic, Thane mentally coiled it into a tight spiral and sent it in Lynk’s direction, meeting his twin’s energy somewhere in the middle and forming the intricately woven connection they needed. Combined and more powerful, they worked together, manipulating their powers into a type of sonar that would hopefully bounce back the direction of the unfamiliar current on the wind.

Over and over in every direction, moving the beam in tiny increments with each change, they searched for what felt like forever. Thane wasn’t sure how long it actually took, but by the time he disconnected with Lynk and opened his eyes, the sky outside the window was beginning to lighten, heralding the dawn.

Thankfully, however, he had good news to share, and it had come much faster than he’d expected. “Turn northeast toward Lake Mead. We’ve got ’em.”

* * * *

The sun had fully crested over the horizon by the time they found a place to rest for the day. While the treated glass of the windows protected him from the harmful UV rays of the sun, Zasha was well past exhausted. Vampires were not biologically engineered to be awake during the day, and while he didn’t begin bleeding from random orifices as they portrayed in the cinema, he did feel like he’d been run over with a Mack truck.

“All set,” Thane announced once he’d lowered the backseat and set up their makeshift bed in the cargo area of the Suburban. “C’mon, lieveling, you look like twice-baked death.”

That wasn’t too far from the truth. His skin was paler than usual, almost gray, and the dark circles under his tired eyes gave him a ghastly appearance. Kicking his boots off and tossing them to the floorboards, he crawled over the console, careful not to kick Jericho in the face since the werewolf was already dozing in the reclined passenger seat.

Once in the back, however, he collapsed onto the arrangement of blankets and pillows with a quiet groan. “I’m never moving again.”

Thane laughed indulgently but said nothing as he set about removing Zasha’s clothing and positioning him more comfortably. Once they were both settled, Thane pulled the blankets up over their shoulders and wound his strong arms around Zasha’s middle, holding him tightly against his chest.

The warmth from his lover seeped into him, and the steady beat of Thane’s pulse had Zasha’s eyes drooping within seconds. “Rest.” That was all Thane said, and the single word was barely more than a breath, but Zasha felt himself falling at once, as though obeying a command.

“How can you say that? How can you even think that? It’s too dangerous, and you can’t do this on your own.” Grabbing his lover’s arm, Zasha sat up straighter. The reflection of the dying flames in his eyes and the hard set of his jaw gave Thane’s expression an almost sinister quality.

After a brief pause, the intense look faded, and Thane quirked one side of his mouth in a crooked, self-satisfied grin. “It seems to have worked to my favor so far.”

“This isn’t like those other time, Thane. You’re going to get yourself killed.” Thane’s pride was one of the things he admired about his mate, but this time, his overconfidence was going to land his stubborn ass in a shallow grave.

Of course, Thane wouldn’t take his concerns seriously. The witch lifted one shoulder and gave a casual tilt of his head. “Well, if you’re not interested, I can always find someone else. I’m sure Daniel would be more than willing to take your place.”

Thane was trying to goad him into agreeing to the moronic plan, but Zasha had played this game too many times with his mate. Additionally, Zasha was well aware that Daniel was in agreement with him on this. “Your friend has as much desire to see you dead as I do. He also has a family to think about, and he’s not going to risk everything because you’re holding a three-hundred-year-old grudge.”

“This isn’t a grudge,” Thane argued. “Until the book is destroyed, there are people out there who will do anything to get it. This is never going to stop, Zasha. They want the Book of the Banished, and they want a key.”

Zasha had heard the story many times, and he understood the dangers involved. However, he didn’t see how walking right into the hands of the enemy was going to accomplish anything. “They need a key to open the book. Your blood,” he added with a pointed nod. “Please explain to me how searching out these witches is a good idea.”

“I just need one of them.” Leaning against the carved legs of the chair behind him, Thane brushed his golden locks over his shoulder. “If we can get one of them alone, you can compel him to find out what he knows.”

“What could they possibly know, Thane?”

“Where the book is,” he answered gravely. “If they get their hands on that faerie, we’re all dead.”

Coming awake still enveloped in Thane’s arms, Zasha didn’t move or speak for several minutes while all of those old memories came rushing back to him. His heart beat too fast, and his stomach rolled uncomfortably from the onslaught of