The Wedding Spell

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The Wedding Spell Page 13

by Donna Fletcher


  “Though I must admit, I have heard only good things about them and the work their foundation does,” Pierce said.

  “I must agree with you there. The Wyrrd Foundation has helped many a needy person, family, and institution. So I can count on you being discreet?”

  Pierce smiled. “I’ll knock on their business doors, and they won’t even know I’m there.”

  They finished discussing the matter and Pierce promised he’d have something for him by the end of the week.

  Finally alone, Sebastian sank back in the chair and closed his eyes. He had barely slept last night, his thoughts shifting from Alisande to Beatrice as he attempted to make sense of a senseless situation.

  He hadn’t been drinking, so he couldn’t even blame the incident on alcohol. Of course, he had been on edge and concerned about Ali, so perhaps that could have brought on the vision.

  Vision.

  Now he was having visions. Visions of fairies.

  His first thought after returning to his house had been to pick up the phone and call Ali. He felt excited, almost as excited as he had felt as a child when he had first met Beatrice.

  He shook his head. How had that tiny imp of a creature become so real to him?

  But he knew the answer. She had become real as soon as he opened his eyes and saw her standing on his shoulder, her flower head wreath slipping down over her eye, her crooked wing fluttering, and her wide smile lighting her stunning face.

  And he couldn’t forget her voice, so soft and soothing. He relaxed as he recalled their conversation.

  “You have grown into a fine man,” Beatrice said, walking along his shoulder to tap him on the cheek with her tiny finger. “What’s this I’m hearing that you don’t believe in fairies?”

  Sebastian closed his eyes.

  “Don’ think you’ll be denying me by not looking at me.”

  He opened his eyes quick and looked directly at her.

  “That’s better,” she said and plopped down on his shoulder to sit, swinging her small feet back and forth. “Now tell me the problem.”

  “You are not real.”

  That got her dander up, and she pushed at the wreath that sat cockeyed on her head. “What am I, then, if not real?”

  “An illusion?”

  “Is that a guess or fact?”

  He had to smile. She was too precious not to smile at.

  “You believed in me when you were just a small boy.”

  He nodded. “It’s easy to believe in fairies, dragons, and such when you’re young.”

  “And have you grown so old and cynical that you don’t believe anymore?”

  “I have grown older, wiser, and more practical,” he admitted, though it sounded more like an excuse than an answer.

  “Do you want to believe in me, Sebastian?” she asked. Her tiny feet still now and her delicate little hands folded in her lap.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then why stop yourself?”

  He spoke as if reciting text out of a book. “Fairies are mythical creatures created long ago to entertain children. They do not exist.”

  “If I don’t exist, then who are you talking with?”

  He shook his head. It was useless. He had gone completely crazy. His mind had snapped. Rationality was a thing of the past.

  Beatrice stood and walked along his shoulder until she came to rest against his face. She patted his cheek softly. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe mortals are mythical creatures that the fairies created to entertain them?”

  She walked back along his shoulder, waving her hands in the air. “The woods are my home and the woods have been around far longer than mortals. I am real, Sebastian, and I offer you guidance as I did once before. Do you remember?”

  He nodded. “You told me to follow my heart because my heart would lead me to those I loved and those that loved me.”

  “You listened to me then and you found your way home.”

  “An impossible task if it hadn’t been for you.”

  Beatrice smiled. “But you listened to me. Listen to me now, Sebastian. You are lost again, but one who loves you calls out. Listen and follow, for therein lies your destiny.”

  “I’m not lost,” he argued.

  “You are lost in your pragmatic nature. Shed it and discover the wonders and mysteries of life,” she urged with a wide smile and a playful poke to his cheek.

  Sebastian opened his eyes and looked around his office. What had seemed like an all-too-real visit near twilight on a hot summer’s day faded with the light of a new day.

  Part of him wanted desperately to believe in fairies and witches, and another part warned him against such illogical reasoning. He was no longer a little boy with a childish imagination; he wondered if he ever was.

  A gentle knock on the door brought him fully to his senses as Ms. Smithers quietly entered his office.

  “I tried the intercom, but you didn’t answer,” she said as if apologizing for the intrusion. “You have an urgent phone call from Sydney Wyrrd.”

  Sebastian shot out of the chair and grabbed for the phone on his desk as Ms. Smithers quietly shut the door behind her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked ignoring formality.

  “You must come to the house immediately,” Sydney informed him quickly and paused, taking an audible breath before saying, “Alisande is in danger.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sebastian entered the living room of the Wyrrd house, acknowledged Sydney with a curt nod and went straight to Ali, who stood looking out of the French doors that led to the terrace.

  His arms circled her waist and before she could step back into his embrace, he yanked her gently back to press firmly against him. He needed to know she was safe wrapped in his arms.

  He leaned his head down, pressed his cheek to her temple, and whispered, “Are you all right?”

  Her answer sounded more like a whispered plea than a simple yes. And she shivered, not from fear, but from being in his arms. His strength embraced her, his warmth rushed over her, and his concern filled her heart. She snuggled against him, content in his protective hold.

  She sensed that he had no intention of letting her go, and she didn’t want him to. She fit so perfectly with him that the thought frightened her. They had been made for each other. Two pieces that fit as one.

  He felt her shiver, the slight tremble of her body running along his own and his arms tightened around her, wanting to chase away her fears.

  She fits so perfectly.

  The thought flashed like a message in his mind. A message he didn’t need to be reminded of—he already knew all too well that she fit with him. If he was honest with himself he would admit that she had tempted his sensibilities from the first day she had walked into his office and cast her strange spell.

  If a love spell it truly was, then it had worked, for at the moment he could think of nothing but how very much he loved her and would do anything to protect her from harm.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” he said.

  “Perhaps I best explain,” Sydney said, walking up beside them.

  Neither Sebastian nor Ali made any attempt to separate and their tenacious clinging brought a smile to Sydney’s face.

  “Whether you believe in the existence of witches or not, I expect you to listen with an open mind,” she said and waited for Sebastian to agree to her terms.

  Sebastian nodded. He had faced many strange and frightening situations during his time with The Department. He had no doubt he could handle this one.

  Sydney continued. “Ali had a visit from an old friend, a powerful male witch named Dagon. He is looking to mate and has chosen Ali. She rejected his proposal, but he refuses to take no for an answer. He is adamant, stubborn, and entirely too used to having his way.”

  Ali almost laughed at the accurate description of Dagon.

  Sebastian remained silent for a moment, digesting the information. How was he to handle two women who believed themselves witches with
a warlock on their heels?

  “This warlock, Dagon—”

  Sydney immediately corrected him. “Dagon is no warlock. Warlocks practice the black arts. They are evil in thought and deed, and true witches will have nothing to do with them.”

  “Forgive me; I’m not familiar with all the particulars of witchcraft.”

  “You will learn,” she said as if she had just decreed it. “Now I think what would be best is for Ali to stay away from the house for a few days, someplace where Dagon won’t be able to find her. He will grow weary of searching since he has no patience and will leave to go find another more agreeable witch to mate with.”

  Sebastian offered a different solution. “Why don’t I have this Dagon thoroughly checked out.”

  Ali stiffened in his arms, and he turned her around to face him, his long lean fingers resting intimately on her narrow hips.

  “My suggestion disturbs you?” he asked.

  “No,” she reluctantly admitted, for if Dagon discovered that Sebastian intended to research his background, Dagon’s temper would flare. “I just don’t think you’ll find anything worthwhile.”

  “It will provide me with a better understanding of the man,” he said. He would never place himself in a situation he had not first thoroughly investigated. That would be giving his opponent the upper hand, and that he refused to do.

  “By all means, Sebastian, check him out,” Sydney agreed to Ali’s surprise. But then Ali realized that her aunt must have been prepared for this turn of events or she would never have agreed.

  “While I’m investigating this man, I will have one of my top men assigned to protect you,” Sebastian said, already calculating in his mind who he would use and a safe place to take her.”

  “On, no, no, that won’t do at all,” Sydney protested vehemently. “You are aware of our unusual background, and we trust you. But a stranger protecting Ali unaware that she is a witch, or that a powerful male witch is after her,” —she shook her head— “no, no, that will not do at all. You must protect her yourself; you must not let her out of your sight.”

  The thought had crossed his mind but briefly. The consequences of being in close proximity to Ali day and night could not be ignored. And while he had no doubt he loved her, there was still this issue of her being a witch that needed to be addressed and settled once and for all.

  Ali ran her hand slowly up his shirt getting his attention quickly. “No mere mortal is a match for Dagon. His powers transcend mortal strength.”

  Sebastian laughed. “Are you telling that I’m no match for this man?”

  “Witch,” she corrected. Say it, please say it. Admit that witches are real. Admit you believe.

  “Whatever,” he said annoyed that she should think so little of his own strength and courage, and sounding as though she actually admired this man who was on the hunt for her.

  His hurt drifted over her and made her stomach clench. It pained her that she had caused him to suffer. Her love for him was growing strong, so strong that she was attuned to his every emotion.

  “You are a strong, capable mortal, but he is a witch,” she said, attempting to make him understand and openly admit that there was a difference between them.

  Sebastian held his tongue. Witches didn’t exist. They weren’t real. So why all this high drama? What were these two women really up to?

  Sydney finally interrupted with a demand. “I must insist you take my niece home with you at least for one night and protect her. I will pay you for your services.”

  Sebastian sent her such a scathing look that she actually took a step back. “Don’t insult me, Ms Wyrrd. I will protect Ali because I care for her, not for money.”

  Ali beamed with joy and hope. Perhaps things would turn out all right after all.

  “Forgive me,” Sydney said sincerely and with a knowing smile. “I did not mean to offend you.”

  “Your niece is welcome to stay at my home tonight. In the meantime, I will personally run a background check on this Dagon. But tell me, are you safe form him?”

  Sydney laughed. “Dagon wants nothing from me, only Ali. And witches respect age and the wisdom that comes with it. He would never harm me.”

  Sebastian had to ask. “How old is Dagon?”

  “Around three hundred years, give or take a few,” Sydney answered.

  “He should have an interesting history to track down,” Sebastian said with a tone that held a note of skepticism.

  His most interesting history you won’t find in any files or records,” Sydney said. “But Ali can tell you about him; they grew up together.”

  That statement brought a swift turn of his head toward Ali.

  “I better pack a bag for the evening,” she said and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before scurrying out of the room.

  Sebastian couldn’t help but notice her bare feet. He could have sworn he heard the tiny tinkle of her toe bell, and he knew then and there that he was in serious trouble.

  Upon Ali’s exit the housekeeper entered with a large silver tray. Mint iced tea, finger sandwiches and miniature pastries were served.

  Sebastian joined Sydney on the soft blue and ivory silk striped couch and graciously accepted the Waterford crystal iced tea glass she had filled for him.

  “The truth, Sydney,” he said calmly when they were finally alone.

  “She needs you,” she answered bluntly. “And since I am being candid, you need her.”

  “I won’t deny that, but there still remains a problem.”

  “That you refuse to accept who she is, a warm, loving intelligent —”

  “Witch?”

  Sydney was all too aware of the perimeters of the spell, and she dared not step beyond them. They were already too tenuous.

  “You said you care for Ali.”

  “Very much,” he assured her.

  “Why do you care?”

  He wondered himself since they hadn’t known each other long or were in a relationship.

  “What’s special, to you, about Ali?”

  “She’s unique.”

  How so?”

  He smiled. “She’s audacious in everything she does.”

  “Like walking into your office unannounced?”

  His smile spread to a grin. “She really threw me for a loop that day.”

  “Couldn’t get her out of your mind, could you?”

  “No, she haunted my dreams day and night.”

  Sydney nodded. “She has a way of doing that.”

  “She fills my thoughts constantly.”

  “And do you think you feel this way because of the spell she cast on you?” she asked.

  Sebastian stared at her incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. No one can make another person love them simply by chanting a few words.” Could they?

  “They why not accept her for who she is?”

  “That’s just it, who is she?” he asked, the question so simple, yet the answer so elusive.

  “You have two choices,” Sydney said. “You either believe she is who she says—”

  “A witch.”

  Sydney nodded. “Or you believe she is a crazy eccentric. The choice is yours and yours alone, Sebastian.”

  “And this Dagon?”

  “Again the choice is yours. Whatever you choose to believe about Ali, you believe about Dagon.”

  “So he could be a crazy eccentric too.”

  Sydney shrugged and reached out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Whatever you do, Sebastian, listen to your heart, for then and only then will you know the truth.”

  He almost shivered from the tingle of apprehension that ran over him. “Are you telling me to avoid being reasonable about this matter?”

  “Reason will not help you when it comes to Ali. Opening your heart is the only way you will see the truth.”

  “Love can often blind,” he said.

  She laughed softly. “True love never blinds, it reveals.”

  “I’m ready,” Ali annou
nced, entering the room with a bulging tote bag in hand.

  Sebastian stood and walked over to her, admiring her long slim legs. She wore white shorts and a cropped white knit top that was made to tempt men and damn if it wasn’t working. Her long hair was pinned up, her stunning face was clear of makeup except for a rose blush that tinted her lips, and she wore white sandals.

  She was out to get him and dressed in that battle gear she just might get him to surrender.

  He took the bag from her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You’re not going to behave are you?”

  She licked her lips with that sweet little tongue of hers. “Do you want me to?” She laughed and shook her head, several long blond strands falling free around her face.

  “That’s what I thought,” he said and grabbed her hand and wondered how the hell he was ever going to handle her tonight; with great care or great passion?

  With quick goodbyes they were off.

  o0o

  Ali suggested they stop at a grocery store so she could pick up a few things and cook him supper.

  Recalling his dream of her in his kitchen and taking another look at her outfit, he shook his head. “I’ll cook.”

  “I can cook,” she insisted, confident that she had practiced the chicken recipe well enough with Adele that she wouldn’t make any mistakes.

  “Another time, besides, I want you to tell me all you can about this Dagon fellow. Concentrate and think on it and don’t leave anything out. Even the smallest scrap of information could prove vital.”

  Ali didn’t want to talk about Dagon and had no intention of talking about him, but then she was condiment she could easily distract Sebastian, starting now.

  She casually kicked off her sandals crossed her legs, resting her foot with the toe ring near his knee. She pretended to study the passing countryside as if she had not a care in the world while she slowly bounced her foot up and down, grazing his knee every now and then.

  He knew what she was up to and he tried, lord how he tried, to ignore her slim leg, trim ankle, and toe ring that tinkled with each deliberate bounce.

  But he was a man, a mere mortal at that, and she? She was a captivating witch bent on seducing him.

  He loosened his tie and turned up the air conditioning. That brought a smile to her face, and she moved her foot a fraction closer.

 

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