WarlocksAngel

by Marly Mathews

  “You are a vile man, Master Ackerman.”

  “And you a vindictive bitchy little witch,” he returned, before she sighed heavily and threw herself at him. She mashed her lips hungrily against his. She had to sate her ardor, and with Raymond unavailable, she had to outsource for men. Ackerman was just as good as any. He was a fine specimen of male warlock. His powers might not be as great as Raymond’s but he did know how to use his little prick particularly well.

  “I just love it when you’re nasty. You’ll come with me to Earth, won’t you, Johnny?” she purred.

  “I don’t know. The Bloodbayne Coven has been hit hard in the last two years. They might not be able to make do without me.”

  She pouted her thick lips and hissed at him through her teeth. “If you don’t come with me to Earth, you won’t be coming with me here, either…”

  Her threat was all the motivation he needed as she could feel him already hard for her. He soon would be putty in her hands—pun intended—and she’d have everything she ever wanted, even if she had to sacrifice Johnny in the process.

  He was a means to an end, and though sex with him was diverting, he was not what her heart wanted and when the heart wanted something, it had to have it. She would have her Raymond shortly and everything would be the way it was supposed to be…she might even consider having a little brat for Raymond if she had to make that sacrifice in order to get rid of Oliver.

  She was about to teach that little fuck what happened to a boy who dared to turn his stepmother into a pig, and he wouldn’t even see it coming.

  “I want you to bend me over my desk, push my skirt up and fuck me hard,” she said, kissing his neck. She sank her teeth into him and tasted his blood.

  “It would be my pleasure.” He briskly turned her around and pushed her over the desk. She grunted with the roughness of his actions. He pulled up her skirt and discovered what she already knew, that she was wearing no panties.

  “Well you little slut,” he whispered, feeling her cunt wet with her cream. “I’m going to ride you so hard you’ll have a difficult time walking tomorrow,” he promised, as she heard his pants unzip. His cock thrust into her forcefully, filling her deep and making her grunt once more. Her cat made a loud snoring noise and woke up suddenly. She stared over at the panther’s gleaming dark-green eyes.

  “Go back to sleep, my darling girl. I’m having my fun now. Your time will come, my dear little pet…” She gasped as he pulled out of her and slammed into her again. She sighed happily as he continued to pound in and out. She needed this after hearing his frustrating report about the Hyde witch.

  She settled her gaze on Raymond’s smiling holographic image and imagined that it were him fucking her senseless instead of Johnny. She’d have to make sure that Johnny met an untimely demise because Raymond didn’t like to share with anyone who might usurp his power in the bedroom. He was okay with having another woman in their bed, but he didn’t like sharing her with men.

  The loud sound of Ackerman grunting as he rammed into her jarred her out of her reverie. She did wish he could be a quieter lover instead of making such unseemly noises while they fucked. He moved his hands from where they gripped her waist and rested them on her breasts, squeezing hard. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had finger marks on them in the morning.

  “I’ll hand it to Raymond, no wonder he was able to move on from Angelica. You are one hell of a woman. I only wish I’d been able to fuck Angelica too so I would know who was the better one to screw.”

  Her body went rigid at his words. She loathed the mention of that slave witch’s name. “Get off me,” she ordered, before he could find his release.

  “I don’t think so,” he grunted, driving into her even harder. She winced as pleasure began mingling with pain. “I think I’ll fuck your ass too.” He slapped her bare ass with his hands, making her inhale sharply.

  “We never discussed ass play.” He brought her to a shuddering climax with his second slap. She had to admit, though he had irritated her by mentioning Angelica’s name, she did like it rough and he once again had her attention. Not many men had the guts to give her what she wanted for fear of what she might do in retaliation.

  A purplish-black light lit up the room. “What the fuck was that?” he asked.

  Rebecca smiled. Her pet had shifted back into her human form.

  “You won’t be fucking my mistress in the ass,” Precious murmured in her seductive voice. Rebecca looked over at her shifter familiar. Raymond would be lucky if he could understand Precious for she spoke with a thick native Vanguard accent. In her human form, her skin was a deep shade of amethyst, her eyes the deepest color of emeralds, while her hair was a light-violet color. All in all, she was a pleasure slave who most witches and warlocks would love to have—if they could obtain one.

  Precious had been a gift to her on her wedding day from her dear papa. He had known she would not be totally satisfied with just Raymond.

  Precious slinked over to him and exhaled the hormones she could emit onto him. He coughed as the purplish cloud consumed him. “What the bloody fuck was that?” he demanded angrily, pulling out of Rebecca.

  “That, my darling, was your ticket to being able to perform all night long without any rest,” Rebecca murmured as Precious’s naked body glistened before them. Her beautiful skin always sparkled when she was in an aroused state—it only added to her beguiling allure.

  She could see that her familiar was already wet with need. She desired a good fucking and soon, or she would get into a hell of a mighty fine tantrum. Precious didn’t like to go unsatisfied for long. Precious dropped to her knees in front of Raymond and rubbed her hand against the hard length of his cock. He inhaled sharply.

  “By the Gods, your touch is like nothing I’ve ever experienced,” he gasped. Rebecca watched as his eyes rolled back into his head. He was about to go on a ride he’d never been on before—and would never again.

  “Hold tight, Johnny. You’re in for a very bumpy ride tonight. I hope you’re not expected at work tomorrow, because, my darling, you won’t be able to function once Precious is done with you. In fact, I’m fairly certain you won’t be able to think straight for at least a week.”

  “I can’t wait,” he murmured as Precious wrapped her lips around his cock and started to suck. Rebecca couldn’t wait to see how the night progressed with Johnny—he would either live up to her expectations, or he wouldn’t. Either way was fine with her, but if he failed, she’d have to figure out how to dispose of his body.

  “That’s the way. Precious, take him to heaven,” she murmured.

  In a few days, she would have all the help she’d need to achieve what she’d always wanted.

  Chapter Seven

  Dallas woke up and climbed gingerly out of bed. Every part of her ached and she couldn’t wait to pop a few aspirin to knock out the pain riddling her head. She glanced over at her open window and watched the Priscilla curtains billow outward with the soft morning breeze. Smiling, she walked to the window and looked out. She could see the faint outline of the ocean in the distance along with the seagulls and she could hear other birds singing. It was a perfect early autumn morning. Everything was as it should be.

  Her gaze went to her mother’s prized rose garden and she gasped when she saw the familiar outline of her mother with her wide-brimmed straw hat and gardening gloves. Spooked almost out of her skin, she was about to back away from the window when the unthinkable happened. As if her mother could feel her watching her, she looked up, met her gaze and called up to her. “I’ve got pancake batter in the fridge. Your father should be home shortly, along with your brother. We can all have a good old-fashioned breakfast together.” Her mother’s words carried to her faintly on the wind. She couldn’t quite believe it but her mother looked the same as she remembered, and yet she seemed different as well. She was far older than Dallas remembered. It was almost as if she was seeing Bryony Hyde-Redgrave as she would have appeared had she not died all those
years ago. “Well don’t give me such a goofy expression, Dallas. Go and freshen up and meet me in the kitchen in ten minutes.”

  “No,” she whispered. “This can’t be real, so why does it feel so damn real? Why does everything smell the way it should and feel the way it should? I’ve gone half-mad, that’s the only explanation. It has to be the only reasonable explanation. The witch hunter’s torture broke something inside me and fractured my mind—that has to be it.” She sped through the house, marveling at the way everything looked so fresh and remarkably dust-free. It seemed as if the house had been cared for in a way she had never had the heart to do—or the money, if she was completely honest.

  The stories she wrote for the local gazette didn’t exactly keep her flush with funds. She was usually just lucky that she could stock her fridge with the necessary items, and she was extremely lucky that her father sent money back home every month to keep what he could up and running.

  When she entered the kitchen she noticed the fresh lavender in a vase on the middle of the dinner table. She looked to the calendar that hung on the fridge. It was the same date as it should be and yet…she felt as if she’d stepped into another dimension.

  She moved to the fridge, opened it and gasped again as she saw the bowl with her mother’s famous pancake batter, covered with plastic wrap. “No, this can’t be happening.” Where were Finley and Oliver? Nothing made an ounce of sense.

  The front screen door banged shut and she heard her mother removing her shoes. “We’re having lovely early autumn weather, Dallas. I can’t wait until the fall colors are at the height of their beauty.”

  She backed away from the sound of her mother’s voice. Someone had put another whammy on her. Somehow those witch hunters had come back and they’d figured out the very worst way to torture her.

  “It’s a little hard to believe that your brother is getting married tomorrow. I just don’t know if we’re ready for it… The time has just flown by and the fact that you are not included in the wedding party still galls me.

  “I wish I could put a hex on Adrian’s bitch of a bride. I also don’t know how Lacy is going to fit in with us. She’s always looking at me like I’m going to turn her into a frog. I guess I just hoped that Adrian would find himself a nice little witch to settle down with. Lacy just isn’t like us at all. I can totally understand why Anya isn’t going to make it. Damien wouldn’t be able to handle her attitude. He probably would turn her into a frog—or something worse.”

  “You know who Damien is?” Dallas asked, her heart drumming loudly in her chest.

  “Of course I know who Damien is,” her mother said, going to the sink to wash her hands. “And so do you. We were all at the wedding, remember, you silly goose?”

  Dallas shook her head. No, she didn’t remember at all. She had never been away from Earth.

  “I wasn’t at Anya’s wedding, Mom. She got married on Vanguard Prime, and I never leave Earth.”

  “Are you feeling okay, sweetie? Do I need to call Patrick and have him come over here and check that bump on your head again? I knew you knocked your head harder than everyone thought last night at the barbecue.”

  “We didn’t have a barbecue last night. The witch hunters came for me last night and I thought I was going to die—until he came and rescued me.”

  “I think you’ve really gotten confused, Dallas. Stop talking like that. You’re scaring me out of my wits. The witch hunters have stayed away from us for years. They only tried to come for you once, and we fought them off…don’t you remember, honey?” she asked, walking over and reaching for Dallas’s hand. “And who rescued you? Damien?”

  “Damien isn’t on Earth, Mom. He couldn’t possibly rescue me. Oliver rescued me.”

  “Oliver? I think you’ve created a knight in shining armor for yourself, sweet baby girl.”

  “No, I haven’t,” she said desperately. “If you know about Damien then you should know about Oliver. He’s Aunt Angelica’s firstborn.”

  “Oh darling, her firstborn didn’t survive infancy.”

  She broke away from her mother. She had to get out of this torturous reality. She wanted to throw her arms around her mother and savor having her back in her life, but it wasn’t real, therefore she couldn’t get attached to a figment of her imagination or someone else’s sickly twisted spell.

  “Now give me a hug and then we can start flipping those pancakes. I also think I’ll ring up Patrick and ask him to come on over. You don’t want to be having these episodes tomorrow at the wedding. Lacy would never forgive you if you did something to mess up her big day, no matter how diverting it might be. I would vote for having some magical mayhem at the wedding but Lacy made us all swear off the craft for the day.” She drew Dallas into a tight hug, and Dallas sighed as she inhaled the scent of roses and orchids.

  She wore the same perfume her mother had worn and yet, it never smelled the same on Dallas. Her mother’s scent wrapped her in a comforting cocoon and for one brief moment she forgot about how wrong this scenario was—and how she would have to leave it soon to return to her real life.

  “Mom, this isn’t real,” she said, after a minute or two of holding her close. “You are dead. I’m sorry but you are.”

  Her mother’s eyes widened and it looked as if she was going to start crying. “I know we had a disagreement yesterday but I thought you’d gotten over it. I don’t know why you have to say such cruel things, Dallas.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I’m not trying to be mean. I’m trying to tell you that you’re not real. You’re a figment of my imagination, you are a nightmare or you are something that a witch hunter is doing to me in order to torture me.

  “But you’re gone. I visit your grave regularly and Dad left Earth because he couldn’t deal with life without you. Adrian left with him, and the last time I heard, he was partying it up with the women he finds on his escapades through space. He’s living it up like a space playboy, and trust me, he’s not ready to settle down. He certainly wouldn’t marry that dumbass Lacy, and if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to, since she married Edgar Royce.”

  “I am alive, feel it,” Bryony said, gripping her hand again. “I am real. I am not a figment of your imagination. I am not a spirit. I am flesh and bone and you are my daughter. All you have to do is remember that, all you have to do is remember who you are. You will be able to accept the truth that much easier if you just embrace who and what you are, Dallas. You are a witch with the ability to manipulate time. Please just remember, and remember what I taught you.”

  Dallas shook her head with tears rolling down her face. “You told me to never use my gift.”

  “I told you to never let it fall into the wrong hands. I told you it wasn’t something for the fools of the universe to have dominion over, but I didn’t raise a fool, Dallas. I raised a good, smart girl who would know exactly what to do if she just listened to her heart and remembered everything I taught her.”

  “Dallas, wake up, you have to wake up.” Oliver’s voice ripped into her dreamscape. She watched as everything started to disappear around her. Everything was vanishing except for her mother, who still held her hand. “You have to remember. You will know how to make everything right. All you have to do is use your talents to see what others can’t—even your Aunt Angelica can’t see what you can see, darling Dallas.” Her mother’s voice faded as she started to disappear in front of her. Dallas reached out for her and her hand met nothing but thin air.

  “No, don’t leave me. Come back,” she screamed as she shot upright in her bed, drenched in sweat.

  Oliver sat beside her, concern etched across his face. “You are absolutely trembling with fear.”

  “Not fear, loss.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “I just dreamt about my mother, and she kept telling me that I had to remember. I wish I knew what she meant but I don’t… There is nothing for me to recall. I know exactly what happened to her. She was killed by a traumatic vision of the future.”

>   “Maybe you don’t remember the specifics. Sometimes your memory can play tricks on you,” he mused, his brilliant blue eyes distant. It looked as if he wanted to say something to her but held himself back because he thought the truth might be too much for her. “At any rate, I think you need to have a good hot shower and try to recover from last night’s drama. You came perilously close to death, Dallas. Maybe your dreams are just a product of the trauma.”

  “No, I don’t think they were. Everything was too real. Everything felt too real. Smelled too real. It was almost as if I was in a vision except I usually don’t get premonitions when I’m sleeping. They tend to overwhelm me when I’m wide awake.”

  He looked troubled by her latest revelation. “I think you need to move on from it, Dallas.”

  “We barely know each other and yet, I feel as if I’ve always known you. I guess that’s how well Anya knows me. She knew you and I would hit it off as soon as we met.”

  He was keeping something from her because he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Guilt weighed heavily on his conscience and she recognized the look of it because she felt it so acutely every day of her life.

  “What are you not telling me, Oliver? I’ll keep pestering you until you confess. I can be very persuasive.” She moved toward him, touched the back of his hand and moaned as electricity shocked through her system. Her eyesight blurred as a vision started to lock her in its cold, viselike grip.

  She heard Finley’s voice and saw them as they both had looked the night before. She was a spirit floating around her family room. Her eyes went to her sleeping form, dead to the world on the couch. She listened as Finley started to explain everything about the real cause of her mother’s death to Oliver. Horror clutched her as her ears heard the words and her mind struggled to comprehend what they meant. As the revelation sank in, the blindfold on her memories lifted and everything came rushing back to her in a torrential downpour. Her system was about to give out from the stress of it all. The tremors rocked her body, and she felt Oliver trying to still her convulsive muscles as her limbs flailed all around her. She even punched him during her muscle seizures and distantly heard him say, “Holy crap, you’re stronger than you look.”