by Cherie Marks
“Each evening you will come here to do whatever it takes to remove your magic from around the rose. Each day you will play in your tournament, but you will do it without the golf ball that is now in my possession until the spell blocking me from the rose is broken completely. That means, the sooner you break it, the better for everyone.”
“Well, that’s just great! I told you I need the ball to win the tournament.”
“If you hit it off the hole and into my garden, I don’t think you had a chance to win in the first place.”
She groaned in frustration. “That was a fluke. I really don’t know what happened. But, I know, without that ball, things are only going to get worse.”
With a step toward him, she invaded his space. Her hand fell lightly on one of his forearms, crossed vertically over his chest. Her touch felt like a brand on his skin, and he dropped his gaze to stare at the delicate fingers that were shooting lightning straight to his mid-section.
Her voice dropped to a whisper as she said, “I’m sure you can understand how much something like that would mean to me.”
She was inches from him now, and he let his gaze lift to meet her imploring eyes. In that moment, he felt the urge to give her anything she asked for, to give her the world, to give her what she needed and not worry about his own need. It was like...magic.
Magic? He shook his head and took a step back, her hand falling away. She’d been trying to bespell him. He was certain of it. Well, she had no idea the level of power that resided in him. It would take more than batting her beautiful eyes in his direction to get him to relent.
“Those are my conditions. If you want your ball back, you’ll come here each evening, after your round of golf, and work on breaking the spell surrounding the rose.”
Her expression changed dramatically and he watched her features harden. “And if I refuse to come back here ever again?”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You are linked to the garden now. You’ll be compelled to return again and again for all eternity until that rose is freed.”
Confusion marred her pretty face for a few moments before she seemed to come to a conclusion. “The magic you used on me this morning as I was leaving! That was why I wanted to return here so badly. It was a spell.”
“Yes. And you were lucky that was all it did. Usually my magic doesn’t play so nicely.” He pronounced the word nicely like it was a dagger slicing the air.
“This is ridiculous! I don’t care what you say, I’m out of here.”
He watched her march toward the door that led outside the wall, but just as he suspected, try as she might, she couldn’t even touch the handle. As if it weren’t even there, her hand missed it every time. Still, he had to give it to her. She wasn’t a quitter. Without a pause, she kept swiping at the door, even holding her wrist with her other hand to try to steer it in the right direction, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t make contact.
With a heaving groan of frustration, she turned to face him once more. “Open the door.”
He shrugged and moved past her to swing the door wide. The look she gave him would’ve melted steel. He swept his hand out in front of him as if to show her the way out of the door, but as she attempted to exit, she found herself running straight into the wall beside the door instead.
After a few more attempts, she stopped, rubbing the bumps she kept getting with each try. She turned toward him again. “You can’t keep me here forever.”
“I don’t want you here forever. I just want my rose back.”
Her sigh was heavy and filled with everything that she was leaving unsaid. She extended her hand as if to shake his and said, “Fine. If I’m stuck here with you tonight, we might as well officially meet. I’m Ivy Nyx.”
She waited for him to grip her hand with his, and as soon as he did, he regretted it. That fiery energy moved through him again, this time stirring parts of him he didn’t have the time to worry about. There was no denying it. She was dangerous, and he’d probably do well to let her go, but he needed her. She had to fix the rose before it began to fade. Once that began, he’d be lost to the darkness forever.
He just needed to make the best of a bad situation and avoid her as much as possible. “Zayn Gray, but introductions aren’t necessary. We won’t be spending time together.” He crossed his arms again. “You can stay out here to work on the rose. I’ll be in the house if you need me, but...well...don’t need me.”
Her face didn’t hide any of her contempt at his words. “Don’t worry. I won’t.” Without another look in his direction, she turned away and strode toward the back of the garden and the rose guarded by her magic.
He felt a little guilty for giving her such a hard time, but in his mind, it was the only way to make sure she wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. If he were a big enough jerk, she would work as fast as she could to get away from him as soon as she could.
Yet, if he were totally honest, part of him was curious about her, and he was curious about what it would be like to run his hands over her fiery, red hair. Would it be as soft as it looked? Would it curl around his finger? He wanted to cradle her head and pull her in to touch those ruby lips.
He shook his head to clear it and walked toward his house.
One thing was certain. He wouldn’t be able to stay within proximity of Ivy Nyx without losing his mind.
She was dangerous.
Chapter 7
IVY PULLED HER HAIR down from its ponytail and rubbed her thumb and forefinger in a circular motion over her forehead. The pounding in her head barely eased as she stared, completely baffled, at the glowing bubble of magic that continued to roll around the large, blooming rose. The magic was her own, so shouldn’t she be able to control it? Something about this entire situation felt so wrong somehow. It felt like someone was playing a very cruel trick on her, and nothing she could ever do would make it end.
She tried all the spells she knew that could possibly remove magic. There was the spot-remover, the countenance changer, the revealer, the liftinator, and the last resort—a spell that all witches knew they could use...well...as a last resort. Nothing worked. She even tried a few spells that had nothing to do with taking magic away but would hopefully weaken the hold the magic had on the flower. Everything was a bust.
“Ugh! How am I supposed to figure this out?”
A sound behind her made her turn to look at someone approaching in the dark. A small thrill raced around her abdomen that it might be Zayn again, but as the shadowy figure came closer, she realized the person was much shorter than the irritating man. Good! Despite her body’s reaction, she hoped she never saw him again.
As the figure stepped into the light that Ivy was able to whip up, using the least amount of magic as possible, just in case it made the rose situation worse, she noticed that it was a woman, and she was carrying a tray of food.
Ivy’s stomach growled, and for the first time, she realized just how hungry she was.
“I can’t believe he didn’t even think to feed you. I’ve brought you a bit of mushroom risotto. I hope you don’t mind, but Zayn ate all of the remaining pot roast.”
“Risotto sounds delicious. I’m so hungry, I could eat the blooms right off the flower stalks—if it wouldn’t get me into more trouble.”
Once the food was handed off, Ivy sat on a stone bench that lined the gravel path near the rose. She gestured for the generous woman to sit beside her.
As she lowered herself to the bench, she explained, “I’m Franny Harkins, by the way. Mr. Gray’s housekeeper, cook, and general life manager. He really couldn’t do anything without me—not that he’d ever admit that.”
Because she was starving, Ivy took her first bite before Franny had fully introduced herself, and involuntarily, her eyes rolled back in her head the minute the delicious, earthy taste of the risotto hit her tongue.
“So good.” The words were heavy throu
gh her mouthful, but she couldn’t have stopped them if she wanted to. She rolled the bite around her mouth a bit to extract all the flavor before swallowing.
She met Franny’s gaze and said, “I’m Ivy and this is exactly what I needed. Thank you.”
The tears began to roll down Ivy’s face, and she dropped her fork into the rice and laid the dish onto her lap, holding onto each side of the ceramic while she cried.
Franny’s arms were suddenly around Ivy, and with a tight squeeze, she murmured comforting phrases, letting Ivy release the confusion and sadness of the day. Ivy sobbed for the loss of her golf ball, of her lead in the tournament, but most especially, she cried for the loss of her freedom. Not only would she be compelled to continue to meet her family’s expectations, but now she was stuck here, trying to free a rose from a spell she never meant to cast. Irony wasn’t always funny. Sometimes, it was completely tragic.
“There, there, sweetheart. It’s just risotto. I can fix you something else if you’d rather.”
A short laugh tumbled from between Ivy’s lips amid sobs. She knew Franny was trying to make her feel better, and it was working. The kind woman pulled back, meeting Ivy’s gaze again.
“The risotto is delicious. I don’t want anything else.” Ivy glanced toward the rose, still trapped by magic, and sighed heavily. “I just wish I knew what to do to fix everything.”
“I know what will be a good start. You need to get some rest.”
“I can’t leave this garden until I’ve cleaned up my mess.”
Franny stood up, turned back toward the house, and motioned over her shoulder for Ivy to follow. “You can’t leave the property, but that means it’s possible to go into the house. And I’ve made up the guest bedroom for you, so you can actually get a little sleep and be refreshed for your tournament tomorrow.”
Her offer sounded amazing in that moment, but she didn’t want to get the one person who was willing to help her into trouble. “Do you think Mr. Gray would approve?”
“What Mr. Gray doesn’t know won’t hurt him...or us. Now, come on. Let’s get you settled in.”
Ivy stood and began to walk behind Franny. “Okay. Just one more thing.” She shoveled another bite of the risotto into her mouth. Through her mouthful, she asked, “Can I have seconds before I go to bed?”
Franny’s laugh was big and bold, and Ivy couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face, nor could she stop the warmth that filled her chest. If nothing else went right this weekend, at least she had a moment where she was happy and she made someone else laugh with joy.
ZAYN WATCHED FRANNY do what she did best—take in a wounded creature and begin the needed repairs. It irritated him that Ivy wasn’t working at her task anymore, but he knew she couldn’t keep at it all night. Even witches needed sleep.
Yet, as he’d looked on from his deck, he’d found he liked to watch her. She talked to herself in between spell attempts, and with a quick volumizer spell, he could hear what she was saying.
Mostly she berated herself for messing up...again. He’d been surprised she hadn’t blamed him even a little, but she seemed to focus the blame on herself solely. She apparently also had a disapproving grandmother who would give her the hardest time if she lost another tournament. And as far as he could tell, she was plotting some sort of escape. Not from his garden, surprisingly, but she wanted to run away from something.
She was looking for a new path, and for just a moment, he could relate. It hadn’t been too long ago he had wanted to break away from a life by which he’d felt trapped. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel she didn’t even know what suffering really was.
He knew her type. She’d probably lived a pampered life as daddy’s little girl, given her every heart’s desire. She’d probably never been told no, and he had a hard time believing she really had anything from which to run away.
No doubt, she’d argue, but the minute he expressed to her even a small amount of the pain he’d been through, she’d know how very lucky she’d been in her life.
For just a moment, he had to remind himself to slow his breathing as it picked up with the thoughts of his childhood. He pulled himself back from the brink, knowing the recall would destroy his mental mindset for days. Instead, he focused on Franny’s support and the goodness that emanated from her. It was enough to calm him down...but just barely. He needed an outlet for his dangerous magic.
He needed the rose.
With the opening of the door, he heard them enter the house, and he slipped inside his bedroom. He listened at his bedroom door as Franny took her down the hallway, past his door, to the room next to his. He heard Ivy’s gushing about the room, and he almost rushed over to tell her it was just a room and not to get carried away. It was just a place to lay her head for the night.
But then he heard her say, “I really don’t deserve this, do I?”
His fists tightened at his side and his magic warmed in them. Was she playing for sympathy? He didn’t like the idea of Franny being manipulated. At just the thought, he started for the door. He’d put Ivy back out into the garden. She’d have to sleep on a cold, stone bench, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt the people he loved.
Yet, just as he twisted the knob and pulled the door open, he heard Franny say, “Now, now. There’s no reason to throw a pity party. Just get some rest, and we’ll talk out the rest in the morning over breakfast.”
“You’re right. I didn’t mean to go there. It’s just been a day for the record books.”
Zayn quietly pushed the door to a close. Franny wasn’t a pushover, and obviously, she wasn’t naïve. He felt the fire of his magic ease to a simmer, and he rested his forehead, dotted with sweat now, against the solid wood of his door. His breathing was heavy, and he realized he’d been close to the edge once more. Without his usual release it would get harder and harder to tell when he would lose all control and become the monster he’d worked so long to contain.
He’d have to be vigilant, and though it vexed him to ask, he’d have to make sure Franny knew to keep an eye on him. He didn’t want to be a burden to her, but clearly, he needed help.
And above everything else, he needed Ivy to fix what she’d broken by tomorrow evening. He wouldn’t be responsible for the danger he posed to her if she continued to stay under his domain. He hoped she knew just how perilous the situation truly was. If she didn’t, she’d know soon enough.
In a couple days, he’d be uncontrollable. He’d be a beast.
Chapter 8
IVY TAPPED HER FOOT nervously against the concrete of the cart path. Her spikes were soft, so there wasn’t a satisfying click like she would get with metallic ones. She glanced at her phone again. No phone calls, no texts, and as she looked around, no Flint.
He was late. It wasn’t the least bit like him, and she was worried.
“Well, what’s got you looking so anxious, Ivy? Did you catch sight of the leaderboard? It’s sad when a good lead goes bust.”
With a roll of her eyes, Ivy turned to face Prunella, wishing she could just send her flying into the bushes behind her. As of yesterday though, Ivy needed to save all the strokes she could, and bad sportsmanship would certainly be a penalty, if not a complete disqualification, even if she made it look like an accident.
“I’m just waiting for Flint.” I checked my phone again. “He’s not usually late. Have you seen him today?”
For just a moment, an actual human look came over Pru’s face as she glanced around like she was truly looking for Flint. It wasn’t like her at all to care about anyone else, especially if there was no benefit in it for her, but Ivy was hopeful that Pru wouldn’t turn into her usual, horrible self. She might actually help Ivy for once.
“Well, maybe he just couldn’t stand to watch you fall apart again today.”
Of course. That was the Prunella that Ivy knew. “Nevermind. I’ll find him myself.”
Ivy strode back toward the clubhouse, leaving Pru huffing behind her. She really didn’
t have time to waste on negative energy. And that seemed to be the only kind that Prunella Viper produced.
Maybe he was inside, getting a couple bottles of water or some crackers or something. She had to hope.
Yet, as she rounded the corner, headed toward the back door where the small bar/café was situated, she came to a sudden, jarring halt. In front of her, sat a very dejected, a very large and looming, very furry bear. She recognized Flint immediately, but she had no idea why he had shifted this morning.
She rushed over. “Flint, what is going on? Shift back and help me get ready for today’s round.” She smoothed her hands over her flouncy skort before explaining, “I haven’t warmed up on the driving range yet. My putter doesn’t feel right in my hands today, and I already had a run-in with Prunella. I need you to get with the program right now.”
With a waggle of his head, he opened his mouth, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth, and called out in a deep, heavy cry as if he was trying to tell Ivy something important.
“Stop fooling around, Flint. I need you to shift back to your human form right now.”
But his response was another vocalization that she couldn’t interpret.
“This isn’t funny! I don’t have time for this.”
He continued to make loud exclamations that only made Ivy angrier by the moment.
“Fine! If you want to play around and leave me out to dry, then do it. Some best friend you are.”
However, when she turned to leave, he stood up on his hind legs and seemed to be practically shouting at her about something. She stopped out of pure shock more than anything, but then it suddenly occurred to her that Flint didn’t even have a sense of humor. He’d never play a joke on her, especially not when he knew how important this was to her.
“Something is wrong, isn’t it?”
He nodded his big, furry head up and down.
