Bewitch Me: The Red Veil Diaries: A Witchy/Fae Romance

by Marianne Morea

  “Gareth, we’ve been here many, many times before, and we never had magical fallout. I know that was ten years ago, but—”

  He put a finger over her lips. “Maybe this was pent-up foreplay, or a sexual logjam that finally burst. We can look it up in Magical Theory in the stacks, maybe give it a go again there.”

  She rolled her eyes, watching him waggle his eyebrows. “I’ve had plenty of sex since you disappeared into Faerie. Nothing close to this ever happened.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t with me,” he replied. “We’ve both matured into our own. Our powers and abilities are fully fledged. Think about that.”

  She curled onto her side, facing him. “What are we going to tell Caitlan when she sees this mess?”

  “I’m sure she already knows.”

  Lane rolled onto her back again. “Nice. I have to live with the woman.”

  “No, you don’t.” He pulled her toward him, his face serious. “You can live with me. The way it should have been from the start. We can live here, or if you want, I can try to take you with me to Faerie.”

  He kissed her softly, and the air shimmered gold again. This time the feel was light and playful, skimming their skin with tiny prickles that made her hair rise again.

  “Well, wherever we are, one thing is for sure. We’re going to need serious homeowners’ insurance.”

  She grinned, kissing him back until the gold shimmer thickened and she could no longer think.

  Chapter Nine

  Gareth scanned the library’s dusty stacks. “This place hasn’t changed at all.” He walked past the old archivist’s desk piled with volumes. “I can still feel Grania’s eyes watching us over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses.” He winked.

  “She wasn’t the cheeriest of people, but she certainly knew her stuff.” Lane dragged a finger over a shelf, leaving marks in the dust. She turned toward Gareth standing with his hands on the back of Grania’s worn chair. “This place is in such confusion. I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Me neither, though Caitlan seemed to think we’d figure it out. Where is she anyway? I thought she said Caro left references for us somewhere.” He lifted a book from the closest pile on the desk and flipped a few pages before dropping it back on the pile. The soft thud sent dust swirling and he sneezed.

  “Dust comes with the territory, but God bless, anyway.” Wiping her hands on her pants, Lane moved to the large study table at the center of the room.

  “As promised, I guess.” She tapped the small pile of old books and papers on the worn wood.

  Lifting a handwritten note from the top of the low stack, she gave it a quick scan. “It’s from Caro,” she said, continuing. “She says the books she left for us reference the Circle of the Raven and our relationship to the Fae courts. She apologizes, saying it’s not much, but considering we’re Sidhe bastards, we shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Sidhe bastards.” Gareth repeated the words matter-of-factly. “Funny how I wasn’t made to feel that way in the Seelie Court. The Summer Queen welcomes Fae blood, no matter what.”

  “When it suits her agenda, I’m sure.” Lane tucked the note into her back pocket. She didn’t dare look at Gareth. Other than what she was taught and had read, she had no real knowledge of the Sidhe. Right now, she didn’t care. Gareth was proof her bias rang true. It didn’t suit their agenda to send word he survived, otherwise she and Caitlan would have known the moment he rose from the ashes.

  A rare Fae Phoenix was a keeper. A real find, and everyone knew Sidhe royalty loved to collect the wonderous and unique.

  “Let’s divide and conquer this lot. You take one half, and I’ll take the other.” He joined her at the study table. “Caitlan can referee once she gets here.”

  Lane didn’t reply. Instead, she grabbed one of the marked reference books and opened it to a marked page.

  Since dropping his glamour, she’d barely had time to wrap her head around the fact of him. Maybe she didn’t want to. Especially since the only thing she was interested in wrapping were her legs around his hips.

  I have a few tricks up my sleeve I can’t explain. Gareth’s earlier words ran through her mind and they stopped her cold.

  His eyes were gold. Sidhe gold.

  No. Gareth is Gareth. He’s the man I loved.

  Still love.

  Exactly. Why else is it too hard for you to contemplate? He said tricks, and Sidhe are master manipulators.

  Stop it.

  He’s a Raven. Not a Sidhe.

  Death by Sex doesn’t mean actual death. It means losing oneself completely.

  Isn’t that a definition of love?

  Stop being thick. You know I mean losing your identity. Becoming a slave. Like those vampires.

  I’m not listening.

  Fine. At least ask the questions that need asking. If not for yourself, then for Eve.

  Shut up.

  She winced. Her inner voice was right. She had to know, regardless of the answer. Gareth had come back from the dead and rocked her world. Not just between the sheets, but by resurrecting emotions she’d long buried. In her gut, she knew Gareth was connected to what happened with Eve. She sent up a silent prayer it wasn’t her worst fears.

  “You okay?” he asked. “You look like you’re a million miles away.”

  Gareth touched her arm, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Laney? What’s going on?” He turned her to face him, slipping his hands to her waist.

  She bit her lip. Her head screamed ask him and get it over with, but her body wanted his mouth and his hands. Was her attraction one of the tricks he couldn’t explain? Some kind of low wattage Sidhe glamour, or was this real?

  “Before we start on the books, you need to tell me why you showed up unannounced when you did. You said you were sent, but you really didn’t go into detail.”

  It was clear on his face he saw she wasn’t kidding. “I was told to keep things on the down low unless things went south.”

  “By south, you mean if Leith got what he came for.” Lane eyed him closer.

  He nodded. “But he didn’t. You’re still here.”

  The reference book was still in her hand, and she dropped it onto the others with an exhale. “Leith took Eve. That’s close enough, and considering you said you were still all Raven, it should have been enough for you to tell me the truth.”

  “I’ve faced horrors and death. I’ve lived and survived in a place where many don’t share the Seelie queen’s beliefs. They view me as a half-breed abomination rather than a rarity. I’ve faced all that, but I wasn’t brave enough to tell you what you needed to hear.”

  Lane’s jaw tightened, but her eyes stayed riveted. “Eve’s dead. You knew when you spotted me and decided to drop your glamour.”

  “No. I mean, it’s a possibility, but I don’t know for sure.” Gareth exhaled, turning from her to pace by the darkened window. “The Seelie queen got wind of what happened in the Dark Court. Whispers are second nature to the Sidhe, and once in the air are hard to resist. But what Leith tried struck home. The Seelie queen met the Unseelie king in the lands between and struck a deal. Neither wants Leith’s plan to succeed, as it threatens their shared tenets.”

  “What tenets? How can a single Raven make a difference to a millennia old race?”

  Gareth stopped pacing and walked back to the table to ruffle through papers. “Damn. I didn’t expect I’d find it here.”

  “What?”

  He looked at her. “Records of what really happened with me. It’s here—” he picked up the accounting again. “But it’s incomplete. The same power the Unseelie tapped when they tried to harness my blood, my power, is the same magic Leith is trying to obtain. He knows the Unseelie failed with me, but he believes he’ll be the one to unleash a power so great none can withstand. He’s mad. But his genius is his determination. He won’t stop until he’s explored every possibility. And that includes you.”

  “My blood? Why? I’m nothin
g extraordinary. I’m a Raven, same as the rest. You were the unique one.”

  Gareth shrugged. “So, he thought. Now he’s fixated on you. That’s why I think it’s more likely Eve is still alive. Killing her or letting her fall prey to his addicted vampires doesn’t serve Leith’s purpose. The answer has to be in these books somewhere. Raven lineage is a real thing, and there has to be a record of some sort hidden in this mess.”

  “If Leith is that sure of himself, then maybe he couldn’t resist bragging about his plan. In his arrogance, maybe he shot off his mouth to add to Eve’s terror. Scare her into subservience for my sake.”

  He considered her words. “Definitely possible. It fits the profile information the Seelie Court provided before I hopped realms. This all happened moments ago for them, while for us it’s been hours and hours.”

  She took the recorded pages from Gareth’s hand and put them on the table. “Let’s try scrying for Eve. This is our sanctuary and her essence is strong here. It might work.”

  “I guess.” Gareth glanced at the shelves of old books and stacks of papers. “We can’t use smoke or flame in here, but we can outside.”

  Lane shook his head. “Caitlan secured the grounds, but she’s yet to perform the blood rite sealing the wards. She needed us for that,” Lane replied low. “We took long—” she caught Gareth’s eye and winked. “Upstairs.”

  Turning on his heel, he stalked out the library door. Lane stared after him. “Damn.”

  He came back a moment later with one of the oval mirrors from the wall above the hall credenza. “Clear a space. Fire is best, but I’m not taking any chances with you. In this case a reflective surface will do us just fine.”

  Lane moved the books and papers Caro left for them to a chair.

  “—and as for taking too long upstairs,” Gareth continued, placing the mirror on the worn wood. “I plan on taking whatever time I can grab with you, as often as you allow. Wherever and whenever.”

  Stifling an inner squeal, she turned for Caro’s teaching crystals on the desk. Grabbing a handful of amethysts and Herkimer diamonds, she carried the lot to the table.

  “Since we can’t burn incense, these will help. I don’t know if you remember, but Herkimer are double terminated quartz. They’re powerful, high vibration crystals that boost clairvoyant and clairaudient abilities. They’re Eve’s go to crystal and might help direct us to her.”

  “Every little bit helps.”

  Lane finished placing the crystals and then took her place beside Gareth. “Ready when you are.”

  “The summons is best in Latin,” he said.

  “And?”

  He shrugged “Dead languages were never my strong suit.”

  “Confidence issues, Gareth? Are you afraid you’ll conjure something I’ll have to clean up?”

  “No.”

  “Then just say you’d rather I do the honors.”

  His lips pushed into a gotcha smirk. “Well, your pronunciation was always better than mine. Besides, Eve doesn’t even know me.”

  “Bock, bock,” she teased. “How you can still charm me into doing things is beyond me.”

  In one fluid move, he skimmed her waist, turning her so close their breath mingled. “I don’t want to charm you into anything. I want you willing and wet.”

  Her lips parted, waiting for the crush of his mouth, but footsteps outside the library door caught their attention.

  “I was afraid you couldn’t do this without adult supervision,” Caitlan said as she entered. “Do I need to separate you two?”

  Lane stepped back from Gareth with a cough. “Why would you think that?”

  The look on the older witch’s face said it all and Gareth grinned, unhooking his arm from Lane’s waist.

  “Caitlan’s no fool, love. She’s right. Hard as it is to concentrate, you need to focus.”

  “Me?” Lane sputtered.

  “Okay, you two. Enough. The walls in this house are old and thin. Especially upstairs. I don’t need or want any more details than I already have.”

  Lane groaned, but Gareth countered with a smirk. “I should be grateful Caitlan didn’t turn you into a frog again.”

  “I’m a prince, babe.”

  Caitlan shut the banter down, holding her hands out for them to grasp. “Good choice on the crystals. Three times three times three. Let’s begin.”

  Chapter Ten

  “You sure this incantation has to be in Latin?” Lane ignored Gareth’s smirk.

  Caitlan looked at them both. “Who said a beckoning has to be in Latin?”

  “Uhm, you,” Lane countered with a snort.

  Gareth nodded. “Every class. Every day.”

  She dismissed them outright with a ghost of a smirk. “Even if I did, you should be grateful I was such a stickler or you two would never have broken into the old stacks back in the day.”

  “You knew it was us?” Lane asked, surprised.

  Caitlan shrugged. “Of course. What did you think?”

  “All righty, then.” Lane closed her eyes, holding tight to both their hands.

  “Clear your mind and focus solely on Eve,” Caitlan instructed. “Her essence. Her magic. They live in the fabric of this house. Grasp the common trace and will the images forth.”

  Gareth mumbled something and Lane cracked one eye open. “I thought you said you were crap at Latin?”

  “I am, but one phrase I know by heart. Viam sapientiae monstrabo tibi. I will show you the way of wisdom.”

  Eyes closed, Caitlan flashed a soft smile. “It’s nice to know someone was paying attention.”

  “Wow, Gareth.” Lane snorted again.” What’s the Latin word for brown-noser?”

  “Lane—”

  “Sorry, Caitlan.” She inhaled a breath before beginning the slow intonation. “Obsecro per velamen, in quo mihi quaero. Visus revelare et dirige in via, semita ut nunc mihi. Through the veil I beseech, show me the one in which I seek. Guide my sight and reveal the way, show me now, the path to take.”

  Three sets of eyes focused on the silvered glass. Lane repeated the Latin words, a mere whisper at first, but her call grew in tone and urgency as the mirror darkened to a glossy black.

  The crystals glowed, ringing the scrying surface in crackling magic. “Look sharp,” Caitlan warned. “Whatever shown us could vanish in an instant.”

  The black glass rippled like still water disturbed, as the first image cleared the darkness.

  “Eve,” Lane whispered.

  Her friend was curled on a low palette surrounded by rushes on a stone floor. Fat, drippy candles burned in brass holders, and when she looked closer, it was clear Eve suffered similar bites as Mason, though not fatal.

  “Fucking Fae pig.” Lane’s voice cracked in anger. “He’s let the vampires feed on her.”

  Caitlan studied the image as well. “The room looks medieval. Maybe he’s got her holed up in the Cloisters over in Fort Tryon Park.”

  “It would serve Leith’s purpose to keep this in our back yard,” Gareth replied. “But truth is Eve could be anywhere. You forget the Sidhe can sift time. For all we know, the room looks medieval because it is medieval.”

  The glass rippled again. This time an image flashed of green hills cut by jagged, red cliffs. A dark sea battered the coastline, and Lane gasped at the accompanying sensation.

  Desolation buffeted, but it disappeared as quickly as the image, leaving the mirror’s surface cloudy and unreadable.

  Black tendrils formed, swirling snake-like through the glassy murk. Lane shivered and gooseflesh spread across her skin. Her throat tightened as the dark harbingers rose.

  “Gareth!” she croaked, squeezing his hand. “I can’t stop them. What’s hap…happen—” Her breath failed, and she pitched forward.

  The crystals shattered, sending dirty gray fragments flying. Lane winced, blood trickling from where they bit into her flesh.

  “Lane!” He twisted, trying to free his hand from Caitlan’s grip, but she wouldn’t l
et go. “I have to help her!”

  “Gareth, no! If you break the circle, whatever holds Lane will take her completely. We are her only ground!”

  Caitlan’s words penetrated, and his jaw stiffened. Their blood mingled with Lane’s and his eyes flashed liquid gold as the rivulets met. White hot power skittered over his skin, sizzling down his arm to his hand.

  Hissing, Cait’s muscles contracted against the surge, but she held tight. Iridescent energy spread, healing their wounds as it encompassed them whole, but pulled back when it swept toward Lane.

  “He’s stopping me from helping her!” With a snarl, Gareth ratcheted the surge, the intensity nearly bringing Caitlan to her knees.

  “Save it, cowboy. Now is not the time for a power pissing match. Find another way!”

  Lane whimpered, her veins straining in her throat as she tried to breathe.

  “Show me what you see, Lane,” Caitlan reassured. “Project the images like I taught you when you were a child. We can’t help if we’re fighting blind.”

  The encouragement was for Lane, but the arbitrating message was for Gareth. Don’t poke the bear until cocked and ready.

  “The bastard is using his power to—”

  The supreme shot him a look, cutting off his words. “Brace yourself. I’m opening the channels!”

  Caitlan withdrew the inner wards keeping the Fae magic at bay. They had to reach Leith before he reached them. It was the only way, if they wanted a shot at saving Lane from his grip.

  Anger and dark lust flooded the open conduit to her mind, and the same cold, black tendrils clawed for her, but she was prepared.

  Gareth gritted his teeth, fighting the attack as well, as Caitlan braced against the strike. Using all her skill, she isolated the intrusive sensations, redirecting to back-mind chambers.

  The onslaught ebbed, and Gareth’s relief was palpable. “Holy mousetrap, Batman, how did you do that?” He relaxed his grip, checking that Lane felt the temporary reprieve as well.

  “Later. Right now, I need your power to help fight this bastard before he figures out my detour.”

  Gareth nodded, scowling. “I can taste his menace.”