For the first time, Celeste’s eyes softened as she glanced at Zander. "Well, at least he did something right."
"It's not just that.” Persephone held her palms up. “He's been... different since he came back. I don't know what it is."
Celeste snorted.
Persephone gripped the talisman, feeling its warmth. "He can see the bracelet sometimes."
That got her friend’s attention. "Only sometimes?"
Persephone jerked a nod. "It isn't much, but it's better than nothing."
"Listen, Seph.” Celeste placed a hand over her own. “You can't trust him."
Celeste didn’t need to specify what Persephone couldn’t trust him with. In her friend’s mind, Zander was unworthy of the talisman and her heart.
"I know that. I do." But Persephone’s gaze strayed to him. "He still wants the bracelet. He told me that much himself. But he has no intention of using it."
Celeste’s nose scrunched in disbelief.
"I'm serious. He doesn't think either side should possess it. It's too powerful. And... and he knows..."
Celeste stilled. "Knows what exactly?"
"Not the part about why he can't see it, but I told him about the curse."
Celeste shook her head slowly. "Oh, Seph. That's dangerous."
"I know. I know. But I couldn't withhold it anymore. He could’ve taken the bracelet at any time during those two days. He saw it, knew what it was. He doesn't want to hurt me. I know that much."
"But the things he might do to obtain—"
"That's why I'm here."
The spell on the bracelet had a counter curse. If found, the talisman was vulnerable, and Persephone couldn’t allow that. Destroying the key to unlock it would ensure the charm’s safety.
Celeste pulled her farther away from Zander and whispered, "I told you I’d take care of it. I did."
Relief pumped through Persephone. "I needed to know for sure."
"I destroyed it."
"But it’s not lost?"
Exasperation filled Celeste's face. "Are any of them ever?"
She regretted her friend's burden. But right now, with what Persephone faced, she was grateful for it. Celeste had the rare gift of memory, complete and total recall. Her ability allowed her to restore every single spell she'd ever read, forever lock it in her brain.
Even though Celeste had burned the parchment which contained the counter spell, its words remained intact in her mind.
Her ability made even the most powerful mages cower. And rightly so. She was the Curator, and as such, had access to all levels of the vault.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Celeste offered.
"I'm all right. For now, anyway. Zander’s helping me guard it, and although he says he's staying until this is resolved, I can't trust that. When he leaves, I’ll let you know."
Celeste reached out to her. "You don't have to do this. Not with him. There has to be another way. If you need help, I'll be there."
Persephone wished that were true. But Celeste’s responsibilities prohibited round the clock protection of the talisman. Her job here was too important. The bracelet’s spell was only one of thousands locked in the vaults. If even one was stolen… "You and I both know that isn't possible."
Celeste's shoulders slumped. Her calling bound her to the archives for life.
"If you need me, ever, call me. I don't care what I have to drop. I'll be there."
Persephone hugged her friend. "You always have. I love you. Don't worry about me."
Celeste glared as Zander walked toward them again, but with a little less force than before. "I'll worry until he leaves."
With Zander’s track record, Celeste wouldn’t stress for long.
7
Zander’s mind reeled as he started the car. He didn't trouble himself over eavesdropping on Seph and Celeste while in the vault. He’d squashed all respect for privacy long ago.
Celeste had the counter spell.
If he hadn't gone with Seph today, he never would’ve known how to disarm the talisman’s curse.
Only one problem remained— the spell resided in Celeste's memory. No way in hell would he ever get it there. Celeste's mind was trickier than the most advanced boundary spell. Times a million. What went in never came out.
"Thank you for coming today.” Persephone smiled sheepishly. “I hope you're not too upset over how Celeste treated you."
He tossed her a smile. "Honestly, it was pretty close to what I expected. I don't blame her for hating me. I hurt you. I'd want to kick my ass too if I were her."
"Still."
Her final words to Celeste in the vault haunted him. After all he’d done, all he’d said, she didn’t believe he’d stay. Her doubt hurt, but what else could he expect? He’d abandoned her.
Zander pulled over, jerking the car in park. "Look, I know you don't believe me when I say I'm staying. But I really am. I'm here."
Persephone pressed her lips together, looking away. "Don't. Don't make promises to me, Zander. There's no need. I don't require them, and we don't know what will happen in the future. You might have to leave, and I'm okay with that. I don't resent you. We have our own lives. Separate lives."
His fingers clenched the wheel.
That was the problem. He didn't want separate lives. Not anymore. Now that he was with her again, he needed more. They’d loved each other as teenagers, but the passion firing his blood now, burned hotter than anything they’d shared in the past. She wasn’t ready to accept him, he understood that. He needed to change her mind. "All I'm saying is I'm here. I'm helping you to protect the bracelet, and with that, we'll be spending more time in each other's company. I thought it might be nice to get to know one another again. It's been a decade. I've changed, and I know you have. We could try for friendship." It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it was a place to start. If they could be friends, if she could trust him again, they could be more.
She eyed him warily.
"What have we got to lose?" His easy tone hid the fact that he knew exactly what they had to lose. Their hearts. “Let’s spend some time together, go somewhere.”
She blew out a breath, fingers twisting in her lap. Her struggle was palpable in the enclosed space, but she finally turned to him, her eyes steady. "All right. Friendship might be nice. Where do you want to go?"
"Leave that to me."
He pulled onto the road and hoped his plan worked. He took a chance bringing her back to the lake. To their spot. She'd either soften toward him or old memories would drive her further away.
When he pulled onto the dirt road leading to the pond’s shady bank, she stiffened, but remained quiet.
He parked the car in silence, the front window showcasing the sun's reflection off the lake. "Is this okay?" He wouldn’t push her into anything. If she asked to leave, he’d back the car up without arguing.
"It's fine." She stepped out of the car, closing the door hard. She never looked his way.
Scents and memories flooded him as he stepped onto the soft shore. It hadn't changed a bit since he'd left. He could still picture them, both young and in love, meeting here in secret. Their haven. The place of their first kiss.
Their first everything.
He trailed to the water's edge, careful the mud didn't give way, and dipped his hands into the smooth, cool water. "It looks just the same." He glanced back at her.
Arms folded, she gazed at the view. "It is. Pretty much anyway. Teenagers still come here at night." Her cheeks pinked, no doubt remembering them as teenagers doing the same thing, seeking privacy. Her arms dropped to her sides as her shoulders straightened, and he knew she pushed away intimate memories of them together. "So, what are we doing here?"
He stood, drying his hands on his pants before bending over for a smooth stone. "As I said, we're here to get to know each other again."
Her eyes shifted toward the car. "I thought you'd want to eat or go shopping or something."
He laughed. "No dou
bt burgers at Moody's would’ve done the trick, but no. No distractions. I want to talk. I want us to be open with each other. What better place to do that? We've always been honest here, haven't we?"
He swallowed hard, remembering the first time he'd told her he loved her. They’d stood ten feet from here. It was so long ago, and yet, it felt like yesterday. Being here, with her, it flooded back. The scents, the feelings, the time.
Please, let her remember too.
They weren’t two strangers any longer. They were two halves of a whole.
She stepped to the water, a stone in her hand, and let it sail. It skipped three times before sinking.
"So?" He tossed his stone in the air before catching it. "You up for a round?"
Her eyes lit on his. They'd played this game many times in the past. Each threw a stone, and whoever got the most skips asked a question.
"Rules?" She bent down, selecting another smooth, flat rock.
"None." He let his stone fly for practice, garnering five skips.
They were both rusty.
"So, all questions are okay and we both have to answer?"
"Yes. Although, if you want, we can have one veto. If there's a question you don't want to answer, you don't have to."
She shifted the stone from hand to hand, mulling over the rules. "That's fair."
Anticipation welled in his chest. There was so much he wanted to know, and skipping stones would give him the answers he needed. "All right. First round."
They took position, studying the water, feeling the stones for the smoothest surface before casting them off. His skipped five times. Hers, six.
She smiled. The kind she used to give him when they were kids. Bright, full, with no traces of lingering sadness. It took his breath away.
She was so beautiful. How had he forgotten all these years? How had he lied to himself for so long, telling himself she didn’t matter, that he only felt close to her because of their magick?
Idiot.
"I believe the question is mine." She sashayed before picking her next rock.
"Yes."
She raised a brow, her eyes lit with challenge. "Whatever I want?"
"No rules."
"Where have you been the last decade?"
His gut clenched. So, they weren't wasting any time on mundane topics. He should've expected that. Seph didn't waste time on things that didn't matter. "Around. Mostly Los Angeles. I have a condo there as a base, but work keeps me traveling."
Her lips thinned. "Ah, yes. Your business."
He'd never felt ashamed for what he'd done. Acquiring items for his clients challenged him, pushed him to grow, to develop. Tracking was a pleasure.
He never agreed to contracts that hurt others. Most of the time, he'd repossess items stolen from their rightful owners. He made it his business to know who he was dealing with, what they wanted, and more important, why they wanted it. It all mattered to him. "I'm not ashamed of what I do, Seph. I never steal from original owners. I only recover what was lost."
"And that makes it okay?"
"None of it’s okay. But it's not wrong either. Those people, the ones I took things from, didn't deserve to have them."
"And your clients did?" She spat.
"Yes. When a family loses something they've had for generations, it belongs with them."
Her mouth fell open, then closed. "You're telling me you stole things back for the original owners?"
He shrugged, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He wasn’t a hero by any means. He didn’t consider himself a Robin Hood. "Yes. I've only taken one thing that wasn't for the original owner, and never attempted it again. Not until recently anyway."
She frowned, glancing at the bracelet, but didn't say anything.
"Another round?" he asked.
She tossed her stone, but it sank after two skips. His sailed for seven.
"What’s your question?" Her body shifted in choppy movements. She didn’t relish divulging information. That much was obvious.
There was so much he wanted to know, so much he needed to ask. He finally settled on the most important. "Did you miss me?"
"That's not fair."
"It's not? Then veto it," he challenged.
Her lips pressed together. If she vetoed this one question, she'd have to answer all others. He almost wished she would.
"Yes." She finally whispered. "Yes, I did." His heart skipped at her admission. Before she looked at him with haunted eyes and added, "But I also hated you."
He deserved that. They'd been in love, had made promises to each other about the future. And he walked away from it all. From her. He deserved her hatred and more.
His throat closed. He nodded, unable to verbally respond.
They both picked up stones and hurled them at the same time, all lightheartedness set aside. Hers won.
She dusted off her hands. "Did you ever think of me?"
Shock sailed through him. Did she really need to ask? She was his mate. His magick yearned for hers every hour of every day, regardless of how often he forced her from his mind. "Of course. How could I not?"
"Well, you left. Just like that.” She snapped. “You turned your back on this place, never once returning. I think it's a valid question."
Damn it! Couldn’t she see how tortured he was? How much he regretted it all? He’d cut off a limb if he could just go back and change things, but he couldn’t.
She gasped when he gripped her arms. "We're mated, Seph. Of course I thought of you. Of us. There's never been anyone but you."
Her lip quivered. "If that's true, then why didn't you come back?"
He shook her once. "Because I forced myself to believe that it, us, wasn't real. That what we had couldn't possibly last. By the time I'd left, had realized my mistake, I couldn't live with it, with what I'd done to you. It was easier to believe none of it was real than return and face your pain and hatred."
"And now? For some unfathomable reason you've change your mind?" She laughed bitterly, twisting away.
He needed her to look at him, to stare into his eyes and see the truth. If she wouldn’t believe him now, if she rejected him, what he offered, he worried he’d lose her forever.
He waited for her gaze to return to his. "Not for some random reason. But for someone. You. You, Seph. I changed my mind because of you."
She shook her head as a tear slipped from her eyes. "Let me go."
"No." He pulled her closer, flush with his body. "I'm not letting you go. Not again."
"You left."
He smoothed his hands over her face, erasing tears as he caressed. "I did. I was an idiot. Young. Stupid."
"People don't change. Not overnight."
He nodded slowly. "You're right. They don't change. But people learn. They grow. I've changed over the years but you, us... that's never changed."
She trembled in his arms, and he couldn’t hold back. Not anymore.
Swooping down, he captured her lips. Tears clung to her, mixing with her flavor. She tasted like home. Of a sweet, warm welcome after a long trip away. They fit, just like a favorite sneaker worn year after year. And even after ten years, the heat between them blazed.
She hesitated as if absorbing the feel of him, the moment, before letting go, before delving her fingers into his hair and pulling him even closer. Need poured from her and into him. The same need that mingled in his own heart.
They moved as one, breathed as one.
On a moan, she opened for him, deepening their kiss.
Darker. Richer. Everything he’d dreamed.
Memories, old and new swirled between them, binding them. He couldn't get enough. He wanted to sink deeper and deeper into her until he was blissfully taken under. He didn't want the madness to stop. Not now, not ever.
The hole in his heart slowly mended. This is what he'd missed for years. Her. Them.
Feelings from long past flooded his body, weaving tighter, stronger than ever before. He wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man.
<
br /> And as a man, he relished her. Unafraid of what they brought each other, of the passion blazing beneath the surface, the heat, the thrill, he wanted more.
He wanted it all.
"Wait. Wait." She pulled away, pressing her lips together as her hands fisted on his chest. "We can't do this."
Harsh breathing clogged his chest. "Why not?"
"Because it's not right. It's too much." Her head jerked side to side.
He eased her back into him. "It feels right."
He thrilled when she nodded her agreement. "It does, but the circumstances aren't. It's too much, too fast."
He blew out a breath, leaning his chin on the top of her head. He refused to let go. She was scared. Hell, he was scared too. The feelings she invoked decimated him.
He wanted her, desired her. He couldn’t deny that. But his feelings went way beyond the physical. He wanted to join with her in every way possible. Their minds, their hearts, their lives. He wanted to claim every part of her, every detail, and hoard it in his heart forever.
Youthful mistakes were in the past. He’d learned from them. Had grown. In the last decade, he’d managed to control his actions, had acquired the patience needed to bide his time, to not act rashly.
He knew what he wanted. But he acknowledged that she didn't. Not yet anyway.
Because he respected her, because he loved her, he’d bow to what she needed.
He slowly brushed his lips against her kiss-plumped mouth before stepping away. The broken contact lashed him, but he’d suffer through it. Soon, with patience, she'd return to his arms.
And when he got her back there, he’d never let her go.
* * *
"Jack, it's me." Zander cradled the phone against his shoulder, his ear trained on Seph's movements in the kitchen. She’d finally let him inside, and he waited in the living room that looked so much like it did when they were teenagers. Some things never changed.
"How you enjoying retirement, old man?"
Zander snorted. Jack was one year younger at twenty-nine, but for some reason, he liked to rub that in. "You're a riot. I'm calling for an update."
The Witching Craft (The Witches of Redwood Falls 2) Page 5
