A Witch Among Warlocks: The Complete Series Box Set

by Lidiya Foxglove

  On the last night, once everyone had gone to bed, I crept down the stairs around three am, after everyone was sleeping but before any maids got up to work. I opened the door beneath old Rudolf. A steep stairway led straight down to a windowless room that was permanently lit like a museum, with that dim, soft lighting that places all the emphasis on objects. Necklaces, rings, bottles, knives, rosaries, books…there was even a snuffer for putting out sacred candle flames, and baby shoes that were said to have belonged to Princess Julia of the shadow Hapsburgs (the magical line which had been born in secret and hidden away while witch hunters were particularly active in Europe).

  This was, certainly, the creepiest room at Ladyswald besides maybe the private chapel which had more remains of dead family members. My sisters used to tell me that ghosts lived down here.

  Initially, I was terrified of the treasure room. Then, I realized all my sisters were equally afraid of the treasure room. That was when I started spending time there. I could actually get some alone time away from the chatter of six older sisters (often doubled, when they had friends over). It was an early lesson in steeling myself against instinctive fears, and I knew every object in the room like it belonged to me personally. No one in the family had looked at them so often.

  My target was a simple reliquary ring. It was a powerful charm, and my mother even used to wear it on her finger sometimes when I was young, but as she got older and more sensitive about her beauty fading, she was no longer satisfied with an odd ring. It was very simple and had a little glass capsule on top that contained a shard of bone surrounded by tiny carvings of vines and flowers. Legend was that the shard was from the bones of St. Columba, patron saint of witches, and could also break curses. I carefully opened the back of the case and took the ring from its perch, holding my breath.

  The house remained quiet as I slipped it in my pocket.

  The most sacred relic was the water of the holy grail. This vial had its own story, as it was poured from the agate bowl of the holy grail that was still held in a museum in Vienna, to my mother’s chagrin. Only a magical person could glean water from the grail, so it was useless in a Fixed Plane museum, but there it was. This water would do a number on the Withered Lord.

  I had done what any sensible person would do and brought a decoy vial. How often did my parents actually take out the relics and test their magic? Never. I knew that much. The old grail water was swapped out for an old bottle of healing potion, and the sacred waters went in my pocket as well.

  I was moving slowly and carefully so I wouldn’t make any noises, and it was going without a hitch.

  And then…the doorbell rang. In the middle of the damn night? Oh, shit. That could not be anything good.

  I hunched behind one of the cases as I heard someone rush to the door. Then more commotion.

  “What is it?” I heard Father say. “Come in, sir!”

  “It’s de Brigue. He—he was killed by the faeries. I thought you should know.” I didn’t recognize the voice, but the young man was probably a courier for the council.

  I was edging closer to the door to hear.

  “What?” Mother cried. “Killed? How? How could he be killed?”

  “The gruagach killed him.”

  Well, that wasn’t good. How long had it been since a faery killed a member of the council? And if I remembered my history, the last time, it didn’t go that well.

  My stomach was turning, wondering what we might have unleashed. My family had been fighting for the Ethereal realms for centuries and I was the first one to toss it all aside and align myself with faeries. They always said you couldn’t trust faeries. What if Stuart had actually infiltrated warlock society and used Ignatius? Maybe I was about to wreck the world. I imagined the burly gruagach killing frail old Councilman de Brigue.

  But weirdly, no matter how I tried, I felt more sorry for Orson than the old man. De Brigue would have done something terrible to Stuart.

  And I wondered why my family never told me about Wyrd, if all of this was so important and faeries were so dangerous.

  “What is a gruagach, anyway?” one of my sisters asked sleepily.

  “They’re Scottish fae who work on farms,” my mother said. “How could one of them kill a member of the warlock council?”

  “Protecting his master. They’re strong,” Father said.

  “They are not as strong as a high warlock. This is absurd,” Mother said. “This gruagach must feel the wrath of our order.”

  “Oh, we’ll have trouble with the faeries now,” Father said. “They don’t forget things like this.”

  “No, they’ll have trouble with us,” Mother said, sounding annoyed at my father. Sometimes she felt he was a little too weak for a Nicolescu because he didn’t go around slaughtering vampires, or anyone else for that matter.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to try and kill a faery, then,” my sister Helena said. She would be the one to defend me, if anyone did. What would happen if anyone started looking for me?

  “We weren’t going to kill him, we were going to capture him.”

  “Oh, well then!” I could imagine Helena, her hair disheveled with sleep but her eyes alert, throwing up the sleeve of a silk kimono as she expressed exasperation.

  “Go to bed, girls,” Mother said.

  “Like we can sleep now.”

  “Well, go be quiet, then. Your father and I will talk about this.”

  They all started to leave the room. I listened for the various footsteps, my sisters pattering up the stairs, hitting the one that creaked. My parents went into the library; the heavy door shut.

  It was still a while before I dared to open the door.

  The door almost hit one of the oldest maids, a Austrian hedge witch whose ancestors had served my family for five generations. “Master Harris?”

  “Yes—” I had managed not to make any sounds of surprise, but I was briefly frozen.

  “Aren’t you a little old to be hiding in the treasure room?” She smiled, and seemed to interpret the expression on my face as fear of a war with the faeries instead of anything more insidious. “Well, I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Thank you, Heike.”

  “The family will be fine,” she said. “The council will take care of this. You’ll be safe at school. You’re going back tomorrow, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I’m sure I will be very safe there.”

  The next day, I left with the relics, and so far, no one was the wiser for it.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Charlotte

  Judging by the smug look on Harris’ face when he came strolling up to me the evening after I returned from the holiday break, I knew two things right away.

  One, I was getting Firian back.

  Two…

  “You owe me now, Chosen One,” he whispered as he passed me a ring. When I tried to take it from him, he snatched his hand back. “No. You have to earn it. Remember the deal?”

  I blushed hard. I blushed like someone had smacked me. “You’re not going to hold me to that,” I said.

  “You bet your boots I am.”

  My eyes darted back and forth, but he had caught me alone walking back from the library. “You…want me to…”

  “I know what the rings on your fingers mean,” he said huskily, his blue eyes just as intense as they were in our first year. Harris was part of the group, but a part of him remained aloof—a maddening mystery. “Let me put one on your finger.”

  “I—”

  His fingers reached for my chin, pinning me in the air, his fingers cool against my hot skin. “Do you know what I risked to get this ring? All for you. All to make you happy, so you could have Firian back. But not just Firian…”

  I squirmed. “Harris, you’re the one who is always acting like you don’t care. If you wanted me so badly, you should have just said so.”

  “Unlike my friends, I’m not a horny moron,” he said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  �
��I bide my time because I know the cost. I’ve finally decided that you’re worth paying the cost.”

  My mouth flapped open and closed stupidly before I said, “Why?”

  “You’re not like other witches. You’re not like other humans either. You’re somewhere in between, and you’re—” His hand still gripped my face, but now the other hand joined the first, cupping my face. “You’re mine.”

  I mean, really, I had barely unpacked my travel bag and I had all this to process, but was any of it really news to me? I had known long ago that I wasn’t like other witches, and that Harris was drawn to me. He was competitive with me, and attracted to me, and he held back because that was how he was. Cautious. Proud. Ruled by his head.

  And it wasn’t like I needed another man interested in me. Four? How greedy was I? How many ingredients did that HAM sandwich need?

  I mean… was he really talking about having sex with me tonight? I ought to tell him to take a hike, but instead my heart was pounding and I couldn’t breathe as he pressed his lips to mine. He might be cold in personality, but his lips were warm and pliable and I found myself responding like I had been craving him for years. Our last kiss wasn’t bad either, but this one was better yet. When I reciprocated, his breath quickened and he put a hand around my waist, holding me closer.

  “Can’t help yourself, can you?” he said. “Alec and Monty still aren’t enough for you…?”

  “Um, speak for yourself. I’m not the one bribing you. That’s the only reason I’m doing this, you know.”

  His thumb ran across my lower lip, the sensitive skin tingling with the memory of his kiss. “Don’t lie,” he said. “Not if you want to impress the fae.”

  “You can’t hold a candle to Alec anyway,” I said.

  His eyes flashed. He took my arm, dragged me into the stacks, and tore open the button of my pants. “Oh yeah?” His hand went right to work on me, thrusting down my panties, fingers fucking me while the knuckle of his thumb brutishly rubbed against my clit.

  My temperature rose by like a thousand degrees. “Harris—no—not—not here.”

  “No one is on this floor but us.” He said, “I can give you something no one else can.”

  I clenched his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles as he worked me hard and relentlessly. “Is this—how you treat Daisy?”

  “Hell no,” he said. “I’m not interested in doing this to Daisy. Only you.”

  My wetness soaked his hand.

  “Putty in my hands,” he whispered. “That’s what I’ve dreamed of.”

  “You’re still an ass, even now!” I snapped.

  “I know. So why haven’t you fought me off? Haven’t heard the word ‘stop’ escape your lips once. Alec’s nice. Monty is charming. Firian is your best friend. What are you missing? An ass.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “You’re my asshole?”

  “I’m certainly going to get to know yours. And every other bit of you. First—tonight.” He rubbed my clit hard until I started coming on his hand, and I was coming so hard and messily that my brain was like, oh great, I’m flattering him. I couldn’t help myself. He was infuriatingly right. I was missing an asshole. Well, not really an asshole, but a guy who would just live out my dirtiest fantasies without hesitating. It wasn’t like the other guys didn’t hit some of those buttons, Alec could certainly get into it, but they were gentlemen. Harris’ hand was fucking me like he was channeling rage into lust. I don’t know why it was so exciting. I guess I knew he would never hurt me, but I also didn’t know what he would do.

  Anyway, I couldn’t help it. I was in the throes of it and he was the one who sent me there, gasping, mindlessly yanking a few library books off the shelf in an attempt to get a grip on something.

  He drew back his hand. “Go to my room and wait for me,” he said. “I made sure Monty is occupied.”

  I went back to the dorm with the most awkward post-orgasm glow, because as soon as I walked away I wanted to be annoyed. Okay, I was a little annoyed. Like, how dare he. I should just go to my own room and shut the door!

  Well, I’m doing it for Firian, I thought.

  Riiight. For Firian. Aside from the fluttering inside me that just unabashedly, inexplicably, was ready to check if Daisy was right and he had a small penis.

  Spoiler alert: He didn’t.

  I went to his room and sat on Montague’s bed, and I crossed my arms, ready to bring some attitude. I looked at his side of the room and saw that he had taken down every photo of his family and Daisy that used to be there. The only thing left was a picture of him with Alec and Montague when they were younger—8th or 9th grade maybe. Figured, that Harris had actual photos. They were all so cute.

  He was really taking this seriously. It was us—and me. Or them. His family. His old life. His destiny.

  The door opened and he immediately tore the photo of HAM from my hand.

  “Harris—”

  “I don’t want to get all touchy feely about this shit,” he said. “I just want you. And you want this ring.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Hush.” He pressed me back on the bed by the shoulder. “You’re beautiful,” he said, like it almost surprised him. “You’re not a bad reward.”

  I wanted to say something sarcastic, but the way he said it was weighted with the loyalty he had shown his friends, and the risks he had taken to help me.

  He cared about us. He didn’t know how to say it.

  He really thinks I’m beautiful…more beautiful than Daisy…or any of those other wealthy witches?

  Uhhh…like I care.

  I was just fooling myself. Harris was…not so bad, himself. He was my prince. Maybe he was more like the jerk prince from Frozen than the nice princes, but…I would certainly never be bored with him around. He was a real life prince. Flawed, arrogant…

  Mine.

  Something in me just felt like…we fit. I fit with him, and he fit with all of us. Even when I was with Alec and Montague in the most intimate way, Harris’ absence was with us somehow. As he started to kiss me again, it felt so right. I really had been waiting for this forever.

  He stripped off my shirt, and there was real tenderness in the way he cupped his hand around my breast, letting out the smallest ragged sigh. How long had he been dreaming of me? Of this? How many nights had he stared at the ceiling above this very bed and told himself that he should stay away from that Charlotte? Just that sigh said it all.

  I reached for his buttons and he stiffened briefly before allowing me to unfasten them. I’m not sure anyone ever touched Harris with love. I’m not sure he even had much experience with girls.

  There was still an exciting authority to the way he stripped me down and took out his cock, taking out a condom without even asking if I was on birth control, which I appreciated. Assuming responsibility is hot. “Now you earn that ring,” he said.

  I glanced at his junk. “I guess that’s not bad,” I said, with a little sniff.

  He took my hands and smacked them down into the bed covers. “Well, I’m not as gentle as Alec.”

  “You think Alec is gentle?” My eyes flew open as he went for it. He forced himself inside me. I mean, maybe forced isn’t the right word considering I was laying under him with my legs spread and a few saucy remarks flying off my tongue, but I didn’t expect him to actually just take what he wanted. “Ungh…”

  “Big enough for you?”

  My skin heated. “No,” I managed. “Not a contest though.”

  “Hmph. You sure look flushed.”

  “Is any of this supposed to be romantic?”

  He gave me a half-cocked grin. “You get enough of that elsewhere.”

  “I think you’re a virgin.”

  “I guess you wouldn’t be a bad first, but do you really think so?”

  “Judging by the way you’re blushing, maybe. On the other hand, you do know where to stick it, which isn’t nothing.”

  He scoffed as he rocked his shaft deep int
o me, and I was kinda hot for the fact he wasn’t shy about it. There was no need to beat around the bush (a particularly apt metaphor in this case—ohmigod, is that where the phrase ‘beat around the bush’ actually came from?).

  “I’ll leave you to wonder,” he said.

  “So you think you don’t have to be romantic because your friends are romantic already?” I panted, trying to pretend that he was barely doing anything for me, just to troll him. Although, in fact—

  “I guess you won’t be doing the dishes either?” I continued, trying not to enjoy his beautiful eyes or his perfect, faintly sneering mouth.

  “Nope.”

  “What’s the point of having you around?”

  “Magic,” he said softly. “I brought you this holy spell. It will break Firian’s curse. Moreover, I brought something that will do serious damage to the Withered Lord. We will bring the faeries their head, Charlotte. My ancestors might have been famous for staking vampires…but I…will be the first Nicolescu to behead a demon.”

  “Every girl’s dream.”

  “Not every girl’s. But maybe…yours.”

  “I could pass on the beheading.”

  “You can handle…whatever this magical world throws at you,” he whispered, drawing his lips close to mine. “Chosen One…my chosen one.”

  “Mm…”

  “That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.”

  “Shush.”

  We kissed again and I let myself melt into the feel of him. Every one of my boys was so different, and with Harris…it was the edges that I craved. I arched my back as he took me like he needed me, like he’d been waiting for me, and for some reason I felt more vulnerable than I had felt with anyone else. This moment felt fragile like it was no more real that when I saw Alec in my dreams, which is to say…sort of real, and sort of not.

  When Harris hit his peak, he started driving even deeper, groaning low with satisfaction. He was breathing hard, taking a minute before he pulled out.