For some reason, though, he was determined to be the savior and champion in this relationship. It was a role I knew he could execute because I had seen him do it on several occasions. But I wanted to be his partner, his lover, his friend, not his damsel in distress.
I sighed heavily. Maybe it was just a man thing. He had said to me once before that it was his job to take care of me. That comment had resulted in our largest argument to-date and was one of the major reasons I hesitated to bring up the fact that he was shutting me out again.
“You’re upset with me,” he said, and he pulled away from me, turning me from the window to face him.
“No, not really,” I replied, feeling a bit angry with myself for letting him read me so easily.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he encouraged, and he led me over to sit on the loveseat near the fireplace in our suite.
“It’s nothing.” I smiled trying to dismiss the subject with a wave of my hand, wishing he would just let it drop.
“Portia, talk to me. If something is bothering you, then I want to know what it is,” he said softly as he squeezed my hands in a quiet gesture.
I waited for moment before I spoke, trying to compose my emotions so I wouldn’t upset him.
“I just noticed that you’re worried about something and the walls are starting to go up again, that’s all,” I said, looking down to where our hands were intertwined together and resting in my lap.
When he didn’t respond to me I risked a glance up to look into his eyes, to gauge his reaction, feeling a little bit nervous. I was surprised by the love and the hurt that I saw there.
“I’m not doing it intentionally,” he responded while he looked at me, his eyes staring straight into mine.
“I know you aren’t. That’s why I hadn’t said anything about it,” I explained to him.
“I don’t like to hurt you in any way,” he said remorsefully. “That makes this a tricky road for me. If I tell you about things that worry me, I risk hurting you, and if I don’t, then I hurt you, too. How can I change that?” he asked me, seemingly anxious for my opinion on the subject.
“You’re going to have to start understanding that you can trust me with what you have to say. We’ve been through a lot together. I haven’t run off yet,” I smiled so he would know I was teasing.
“You’ve been a trouper,” he agreed, and he squeezed my hand tighter in response.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I feel you have this need to be the super macho protector guy in this relationship. While I love everything about you that is so totally ‘guy’ about you, I tend to view this relationship more in the terms of a partnership.” I looked at him seriously.
“Well, I hope you’ll understand this,” he began. “I want to be your protector. You’re my wife, and I love everything about you. I completely consider you an equal partner in this relationship, but I won’t lie. If it came down to you or me, I’d put my life on the line to save you.”
“That’s what scares me,” I replied honestly. “I know you’d do exactly that. I don’t want a life without you. I’d rather die with you.”
“And I don’t wish to deprive the world of the most beautiful creature it has ever known,” he said, and he released my hand so he could place both of his on the sides of my face.
“Whatever,” I said, and I rolled my eyes, thinking he was completely delirious. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you or not?”
He let his hands drop away from my face then and just sat there looking at me for a moment before giving a large sigh.
“It’s about the Awakening,” he replied, and he stared off into the distance as if he were searching for something there.
“What about it?” I asked curiously, not knowing where he was going with this.
He stood then and started his pacing, the way he always did when something big was weighing on his mind.
“I’m assuming that we’ll have to actually go to the ritual to stop whichever of my grandparents from receiving it,” he said.
“That seems logical,” I replied.
“Well, in order for them to not receive it, then someone else has to, right?” he asked me.
“If the ritual has already been started, then yes, I’d suppose so,” I said trying to follow his train of thought.
“So the person with the purest blood in the circle would be you, correct?” he asked as he turned to stare at me.
I instantly understood what had him so upset. If I accepted the Awakening, then I’d become nearly immortal, subject to live for a very long time. He would not be, thus forcing our eventual separation by death.
My eyes widened in fear.
“I don’t want it. I won’t live without you,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.
“That’s the problem. If you refuse it, then it’ll pass to me,” he replied, and I realized then he would be the one living a hundred lifetimes without me.
“No!” I whispered in angst. “There has to be another way! Surely fate wouldn’t let us go through all these things just to be together for a few short years before ripping us apart again?”
My head was spinning while he held me, and I felt the tears threatening to come. His grip tightened protectively around me.
“There’s only one other way I can think of to change all this,” he said, and he lifted a hand to stroke my long hair.
“Which is what?” I asked him.
“We need to end this before the Awakening can happen,” he stated flatly.
“How can we do that?” I asked.
“I’m thinking we’re going to need to find a way into Bell Tower Hall,” he said. “I need to take a look around.”
“No! It’s too dangerous! That’s their domain, the place where they’ll be the strongest,” I argued.
“I know that!” he said in frustration. “But unless we can find some way to draw them and their entire coven out of there, I see no other way.”
“What about the box?” I asked him.
“I don’t follow,” he replied with a slightly confused look crossing his features while he watched me.
“They have it hidden away somewhere. What if someone else is aware of the location? We’ll still have the exact same problem. If that box falls into any other demon hands, they can try to enforce the ritual upon themselves … same results, different people!”
He stood, digging his hand through his hair like he always did when he was frustrated about something.
“You’re right as usual,” he said, and he turned from me with another sigh to start pacing. “We have to figure out where they’re keeping it.”
“I’m assuming they’ve had it in a very safe place for a very long time. This ritual was put into motion before you were born. They must feel very secure about its whereabouts.”
He didn’t reply this time, only nodding his head in agreement.
I watched him as he continued on his track, back and forth.
“We just don’t have enough information still,” he said throwing his hands up into the air and then letting them fall helplessly to his side in defeat. “I just feel completely overwhelmed at times. I don’t know what to do!”
“Let’s talk to Crispin tomorrow,” I suggested to him, standing. “He’s been following your grandparents’ actions for a long while. Maybe he can tell us where they store important things or where they go and the company they’ve been keeping lately. Let’s use the resources we do have.”
He stopped pacing then and came back over to hug me, wrapping his finely toned arms around me.
“Have I told you just how smart I think you are?” he asked, and a whisper of a kiss was placed against my forehead.
“Not today,” I smiled, and I reached my arms around his waist, laying my head against his sculpted chest. “But this is why you shouldn’t shut me out. We need to talk to each other so we know what we’re dealing with.”
I could feel his chin on the top of my head as he nodded slightly.
>
“Message received, Portia,” he replied softly. “Can you ever forgive me for treating you so wrongly?”
“You haven’t been doing it on purpose, and I understand that,” I said. “It’s hard for you to break several years’ worth of habit for my benefit. I’m doing my best to try and look at where you’re coming from, which was why I didn’t want to say anything to you about it in the first place. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“So instead, you’ll walk on eggshells around me trying to keep the peace?” he asked. “I won’t have things that way either, baby. Never fear saying what you have to say to me. I want it. I need it.”
I looked up at him.
“I love you,” I said softly.
“I know,” he replied. “And I’m the luckiest person on this earth because of it.”
He tipped his head down, kissing me softly on the lips while he hugged me even tighter to him. He pulled back after a moment, resting his forehead against mine, and he slowly rubbed the tip of his nose back and forth against mine.
“Gosh, I love you, Portia,” he said softly with a sigh. “I don’t know if you’ll ever really understand how I feel about you, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to properly show you, but you make me feel things in a way that I never dreamed possible.”
I didn’t say anything in reply, not wanting to break the tender moment of his declaration while he kissed my cheek with slow deliberate movements before he moved down my neck to rest his face gently there. I could feel his hot breath feathering against my throat while he nuzzled up against me.
“I love you,” he whispered softly again, and he placed a kiss against my skin.
Chapter 17
Dad called Crispin the next day, and he agreed to come meet us at the keep early in the afternoon. When we were all settled into the sitting room, he started to speak.
“So, Sean asked me for some more information on the Cummingses’ activities. Our coven has kept tabs on them for a long time, searching for some way to trip them up and expose them.
“I can assure you that Douglas and Fiona are very careful individuals. Members of their coven extend from their household staff to corporate contacts from the community. They’re very high-powered individuals even without their magical influences.
“They have complete control over their followers. Some demon covens let their members run wild on bloodthirsty rampages, not Douglas and Fiona. They run a very refined operation that probably resembles something like being a member of a wine-tasting society.
“They prefer that their coven remains in the human form as much as possible and that they do everything possible to maintain an appearance of normalcy. They are upper crust to the core.
“That in itself speaks to their control over their powers as most demon covens operate on a more crazed and bloodthirsty level.
“Most of their ritual dealings take place in their home, so it’s made observing their practices difficult, if not near impossible. We’ve never ventured onto the property uninvited.”
“You’ve been invited before?” Dad asked with a quizzical look on his face.
Crispin nodded his head.
“Once or twice, when business dealings couldn’t afford my being slighted at one of their functions, they allowed me a visit. They were dinner parties where I was surrounded by many, many people, thus insuring my safety.”
“Did you notice anything unusual at that time?” I asked curiously.
“No. Like I said before, they were the picture of propriety. Now you say you’re looking for a certain artifact, some type of box?” he replied.
“Yes,” Dad explained. “It would be something that is, at the very least, several hundreds of years old.”
Crispin reached up to scratch lightly behind his ear while he pondered this for a moment.
“I assume that you’re aware that the son, Damien, was a very successful antiques dealer?” he asked looking back and forth between my dad and Vance.
Dad nodded.
“We’re aware of that fact,” he replied.
“Well, I wouldn’t even know where to begin searching for an antique box in that house.” He gestured toward Vance and me. “As I’m sure the two of you know, there’s hardly an item in that house that isn’t an antique.”
“You bring up an interesting point, though,” Vance said. “Perhaps my father is the one who originally came across the artifact in his business dealings.”
“I think that could be very probable,” Crispin acknowledged. “I’m less familiar with his dealings, however, since he was around the world quite a bit, until more recent years after they brought his wife to Bell Tower Hall. He visited her quite frequently, which I found interesting since we were sure they were an estranged couple. I understand the reasons now that we’ve met you.”
I saw a brief look of anger flash over Vance’s face before he successfully shuttered his emotions once again.
Crispin was a complete gentleman and pretended not to notice, though.
“So have you ever noticed anyone in my family keeping a separate or special storage space somewhere else?” Vance asked.
“I’ve never seen anything that would suggest that,” Crispin answered. “I think Bell Tower is a vast enough estate that they could store or hide anything they could possibly want and no one would find it for centuries, if ever.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Dad said. “There isn’t even really any point to trying to sneak onto the property to look for something unless we have some sort of starting point. We’d just be putting ourselves in danger.”
“I’d suggest that you stay completely away from the property,” Crispin agreed. “There’s just no need to risk yourselves. Let my coven continue to keep tabs on everything, and if we notice any activity picking up or anything out of the ordinary, we’ll contact you right away.”
We all stood when Crispin rose from his seat, shaking his hand and thanking him for his information. Dad walked him out to his vehicle.
“Well, that was completely useless,” Vance muttered to me. He reached for my hand. “He’s been watching them for years. I doubt my grandparents would be stupid enough to start revealing things now.”
“I agree with you,” I replied sadly. “I don’t know where else we could look for information either.”
“Maybe we should try following some of the demon contacts they have. You know, the ones Crispin told us about,” he suggested.
“It’s worth a shot, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “I’m sure Dad has plenty of his surveillance stuff here with him and could do something like that.”
We discussed things with Dad when he came back in, and he agreed to get a list of the Cummingses’ associates to see if we could find anything out from watching them.
Vance and I spent the rest of the day looking things up on the Internet trying to find out any information we could on his family and their past dealings. Most of the things we found revolved around his dad and the things he had been involved in on the archeological scene. Vance had been surprised to learn that his Dad had actually started out his career on quite a few digs and trips of exploration.
“Sounds like he was a regular Indiana Jones,” he commented a bit sarcastically.
“Maybe that was how he came across the box,” I suggested. “Is there anything out there in particular which says he spent any time here in Scotland looking for stuff?”
“Nothing that I’ve seen so far,” he replied. He kept on searching, moving through site after site.
I got up from my chair and stretched.
“Wow! It’s after dark already!” I said, looking out the window. “I’m going to go down to the kitchen and see if I can’t scrounge us up some food. I’m totally famished! Would you like something?”
“Sounds good,” he mumbled, his eyes continuing to skim over the page in front of him. “Hurry back.”
“I will,” I replied, going to give him a peck on the cheek before I wandered out the door, closin
g it behind me.
I walked down the large original stone staircase and made my way down the hall into the kitchen area.
Since the hotel wasn’t staffed yet, the owners had agreed to let us use the main kitchen as our own. We had enjoyed having many dinners in there together since our return to Scotland.
There were large preparation areas, just like the kitchens of five star chefs. Every kind of convenience was available. Pots and pans, of every size and in coordinating colors, hung from designated hooks on wire racks over the metal countertops. There were knives of every length and width arranged neatly into holders on every surface throughout the entire space.
The large ovens and stove tops were my favorite part because we could cook all the dishes we were preparing at once which allowed dinner to get ready in a much faster time.
Tonight, however, everyone had gone with Mom and Dad to do some grocery shopping since we were running out of things to cook. I was tired of waiting for them to get back.
Walking through the large space, I flipped on one small light so I could see to make my way to the refrigerator. I opened the door and started rummaging through the shelves, looking for something that seemed appealing.
I was bent over peering into the bottom shelf when I felt his arms slide around my waist.
He caught me off guard, and I giggled.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” I said and straightened up, shutting the door while I turned to face him.
I stumbled backward into the fridge when I stared up into the face of not Vance but Brian Fitzgerald.
Hysteria bubbled up inside me, and I opened my mouth to scream, but he quickly placed his hand in a hard grip over it.
“No screaming now,” he said quietly, and he slid his sharp double edged athame in a feigned slicing motion across my throat.
He may have stopped the scream from leaving my mouth, but it was still ringing loudly in my head.
Slowly, he removed his hand from my mouth, keeping the knife carefully placed against my jugular.
“I was so very disappointed when you escaped,” he whispered seductively into my hair, and he placed a whisper of a kiss against it, while running his free hand down my arm until he reached my hand, locking his fingers with mine. “I was looking forward to getting to know you better.” He chuckled softly.
The Trouble With Spells Page 18
