Dylan's Witch: 10 (Supernatural Bonds) Read Online Free Page A

have hesitated to call him. But given Dylan’s disbelief in the supernatural, and her own hectic schedule, she’d thought if he sought her out himself…
    I can wait for him , she’d told Arioc, but there was no guarantee it wouldn’t bring only pain.
    What if she was clinging to the mere possibility of a future together?
    She had no idea what Dylan was thinking, or if he even thought about her at all.
    Need hummed through her as she remembered that first and only encounter. She’d opened her door to admit Aislinn’s Trace, a consultation done as a favor, and had her future crystallize in the moment her eyes met Dylan’s.
    Searing attraction, an intensity of desire she’d never experienced. Arioc might eventually have been able to rival it, but that was the draw of magic and the deadly fascination of demons, where Dylan was a connection with the human, the compulsion to share the ordinary in life as well as the extraordinary.
    Somehow she’d managed to answer Trace’s question about the symbols found at a murder site. But it had been a struggle against being distracted by the heat pouring off Dylan, the scent of his cologne, the sight of his erection and the hunger in his gaze when it settled on her lips, the hardened nipples pressed against the front of her blouse.
    The barest, inadvertent touch of their hands had been all that was necessary to send an erotic charge traveling through her. She hadn’t been able to stifle the gasp, and he in turn had escaped on the pretext of needing some fresh air.
    I can wait for him . But should she continue to? Wouldn’t it be better to face her fears, that she and Dylan couldn’t overcome the hurdles that came with her being a witch and him being a cop?
    She realized then how the estrangement with Electra had spread, bringing with it the desire to avoid confrontation and possible loss, to cherish hope rather than to act on it.
    The emerald-green Elven stone was cool against her palm. Would it still burn in Dylan’s presence?
    Her heartbeat tipped into a race at the prospect of finding out tonight, her pulse gaining speed with first the decision, and then the determination to act.
    She’d visit Jasmine. No one was better at scrying.
    The heartstone should be enough of a link for Jasmine to locate Dylan. And when she did…
    Seraphine wet her lips and silently acknowledged it was a toss-up as to whether the gesture was one of nervousness or anticipation. If Dylan wasn’t working, then tonight she’d go to him rather than continue waiting for a call that might never come.

Chapter Two
     
    In the homicide bullpen, Trace Dilessio slammed the murder book shut. “Our work here is done.”
    Dylan snorted. “Not that it actually required much work. But I’m not complaining. No psychics coming out of the woodwork. No so-called magical artifacts. Nothing that gave off even a whiff of weird. Just an understandable crime done by the usual kind of loser criminal element, and miracle of all miracles, no public interest. No reporters. Nothing high profile about it. And that’s a huge fucking relief, if you ask me.”
    Trace laughed. “I hear you, partner. Let’s get out of here.”
    Dylan stood and snagged his jacket, the high of success doing a nosedive a step away from where his desk was pushed against the front of Trace’s. In the old days they’d head to a cop bar full of badge bunnies. They’d have a few drinks, talk shit with any other detectives who might wander in. Then one by one they’d select their entertainment for the remainder of the night from a wide selection of very available women and part ways.
    Those days were gone. Permanently.
    He didn’t need to see the smile on his partner’s face or notice the quick pace of their steps to know Trace was already halfway in bed with his wife, at least in his thoughts. Hell, he was probably banging Aislinn against the wall next to the front door.
    Fuck . And it pissed Dylan off that his cock didn’t even twitch until a