I waved one hand at her and all her bindings unraveled, slipping from her dainty wrists and from around her throat. Trixie slowly pushed to her feet, looking stiff and sore. She wobbled once and an elf reached out to steady her. My anger flared beyond my control and I lashed out, magically knocking the elf across the clearing.
"Don't touch her," I snarled.
The rest of the Winter Court backed away as Trixie crossed to my side. I roughly pulled her against me, becoming aware of the trembling that had started all over my body. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think my way through the thickening red haze. A small part of me was appalled at what I was doing, but the little voice wasn't loud enough to cut through the rage.
With Trixie in my arms, I released the elves dangling in the air, letting them fall in little heaps around the circle. My eyes remained locked on the king as he glared at me.
"This is your only warning: Low Town and the surrounding lands are mine," I said in a near growl, and then Trixie and I disappeared.
Chapter Four
TRIXIE AND I reappeared in the large clearing we'd been in earlier with the werewolves. The area was empty now. Jack must have taken his pack deeper into the woods to the north, putting some breathing room between his people and the Winter Court.
Releasing Trixie, I stumbled away a few steps before my knees gave out and I collapsed to the ground. My body was sore from shifting into a wolf and back again in the span of less than a few hours. But that wasn't what was causing the shaking in my hands or the tightness in my chest that squeezed until it was nearly impossible to draw a breath.
I had nearly given in to the urge to kill the entire Winter Court. That first moment when I'd heard that Trixie had been taken, I'd almost lost it. I'd been ready to torch the entire woods and everything in it until I got her back. And when I'd seen her tied up and bruised, something inside of me had screamed to tear the elves apart.
Spells had spun to the forefront of my mind. The energy had tingled along my skin, causing a nearly unbearable itch that could only be scratched by their screams. If Trixie hadn't said something, my control would have disintegrated and I would have destroyed them all.
I shook my head as I drew in a ragged breath and struggled to push away the thought, but there was no escaping it. For the first time in my life, I was scared of myself. Years ago, I learned the dangerous spells. I learned the deadly spells that crushed hearts, stole breath, and destroyed minds. I learned them, but I told myself I would never use them. I had been so confident that nothing could push me so far that I would be tempted.
My entire body flinched at the sound of Trixie's soft footfalls across the dried grasses. She knelt beside me and laid a hand on my shoulder, her touch so light it felt like a butterfly had landed. Her head dipped down in front of mine, sending her long, blond hair falling over her shoulder in a silken cascade. I wanted to reach out and touch those locks of starlight, but I squeezed my hands into fists in my lap. I was tainted, dirty, and I couldn't stand the idea of that ugliness touching her.
"Gage, please look at me," she said in a soft voice.
Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to her face so that I could see her worried expression. "How can you stand to be near me?" The words were rough and low when they tumbled from my mouth. "The things I thought. The things I almost did . . . I'm a monster."
"No, you're not." She put her hand against my cheek and I rolled away from her, jumping to my feet again so I could pace with my growing agitation. My knees held me, to my relief, despite the growing ache in my limbs.
"I told myself that because I chose to leave the Towers, I wasn't like them. I'm not like the other witches and warlocks."
"You're not."
I spun around. "I nearly killed them all!" I shoved my hands into my hair and stared up at the full moon as my voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "I nearly killed them. I've been lying to myself all these years. I'm a monster like the rest of them. Oh God, I should never have left the Towers. I'm too dangerous to be among normal people."
Trixie marched up to me and smacked me hard enough to jerk my head around.
I stumbled back as fresh pain shot through my jaw and exploded across the side of my face. "What the hell!"
"You gonna kill me now?"
"What?" I groaned, struggling to understand what the fuck was happening.
"You gonna kill me now?"
"No, of course not." I was appalled at her question.
Trixie folded her arms over her chest and tipped her chin at me. "Then you're not like them and you know it. If I had done that to any other witch or warlock, I would have been toast before I took my next breath."
"It's not the same thing!"
"It is the same thing." Trixie stepped nearer and cradled my face in both of her hands, her thumb gently sweeping across my injured flesh. "You chose to leave the Towers and you chose not to kill those women from the Winter Court. No other warlock has ever done that. You chose to do the right thing and that's why you're different."
"Trix, you don't understand," I whispered, my voice shaking. "It was so close. If something had happened to you . . ."
The lovely elf placed her thumb against my lips and gave me a fragile smile. "But nothing happened to me. I'm safe and here. You didn't hurt anyone."
I pulled her against my chest, tucking her head against my shoulder while holding her tight as a shudder swept through me. Nothing had happened to her, but what if something did happen? Who would be able to stop me a second time? Could I be stopped? Tonight had been a close thing, possibly closer than Trixie knew or was willing to admit to herself.
My eyes fell closed and I breathed in her scent. Trixie was mine. I had given up my study of magic, my family, and even my identity so that I could be safe from the Towers. Trixie was the first thing in my life that I risked wanting for myself, and I wasn't about to let her be taken from me.
"I'm sorry about tonight. I know you had said that you wanted no crazy and I seem to be struggling to give you that," I said, pulling back a little so I could see her face.
Trixie lifted her head and flashed me a wry smile. "You do keep a girl on her toes."
"Wouldn't want you to get bored."
She snorted. "Not a chance."
"Sorry."
Trixie tipped her head back, looking up at the sky as if she were judging the time. "You know, it's not too late." Her smile grew as she looked back at me. "I do believe you promised me pizza and action movies."
"I think I remember something being discussed earlier this evening," I murmured. "Was that all you had in mind?"
Trixie's grin turned wicked as she rubbed her body against mine until my eyes nearly rolled back in my head. "I think I've got a few ideas about how to get back at you for tonight's fiasco."
My hands tightened on her ass, crushing her against me as my body hardened. "Anything," I groaned. "Anything you want." My mouth dropped down and captured her in a rough kiss that had her moaning before I lifted my head again. "Let's get out of here."
"Definitely," she said, her long, slender arms wrapped tightly around my neck.
As I looked up, I noticed a figure standing across the field directly in front of me. He hadn't been standing there seconds ago, but he had appeared with a slight shift of magical energy in the air. My body tensed and I clutched Trixie tightly against me. While I couldn't see the warlock's face in the darkness, I knew it was Gideon.
The warlock had been assigned to watch over me and make sure I didn't cast any spells beyond the occasional act of self-defense. Luckily, Gideon was open to negotiation, because I sucked at keeping that promise. Of course, Gideon also liked to knock the shit out of me when I stepped out of line.
The warlock didn't move, didn't speak. If he was going to kill me, he would have done it already. He just stood there as a warning. I'd have to pay the piper for tonight's little display and it was going to hurt. A lot. But I could talk my way out of a trip before the Towers' council, and Trixie was worth any amount of pain
so long as she was safe.
Squeezing Trixie a little tighter, I gave a quick nod to Gideon. I'd deal with the consequences of my choices tomorrow when I was alone. The warlock was willing to give me tonight with Trixie. He might not like me or agree with my choices, but he understood the woman in my arms. She was light and love and the only one keeping the monster caged.
The Ghoul Next Door
TERRI GAREY
Chapter One
IT'S ALWAYS DARKEST before the dawn, so if you're going to raise someone from the dead, three in the morning is the best time to do it.
Cassie Calloway stood in an empty driveway on the edge of town, having left her car by the side of the road and hiked several hundred yards through an empty pasture. Before her stood a line of oak trees, gray-limbed titans draped in Spanish moss, reaching for the sky.
"You can do this," she murmured, talking to herself. "Don't be a wimp." Only a fool wouldn't be frightened; it was just before dawn on November 1, All Hallows' Eve, when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. Breaking through it, even for a moment, could allow more than just one spirit to come through, and no one knew that better than Cassie Calloway, last of the Calloway witches.
She focused on the trees, letting their silent strength ground her. They'd been her trees once, just like the house behind them had once been her house. She'd climbed all over those oaks as a kid, a lonely tomboy who was always in trouble for her scraped knees and dirty hands. The azalea bushes scattered throughout the yard had once been bursting with blooms and buzzing with honeybees; now they were yellowed, spindly and sad.
She was twenty-seven now, no longer a lonely tomboy, but this house, this land, continued to call to her, and remained the only place she'd ever called home.
"What the hell are you doing out here?"
Whirling, Cassie saw the current owner of the house, James T. Falco, standing beside a tangle of what used to be neatly trimmed hedges.
A tingle touched her skin, barely felt, barely imagined, but Cassie closed her mind to it, letting it slide away like moonlight. Even in the dark, Falco wasn't hard to recognize; no one else had that air of lazy assurance, that mop of dark hair that looked as though it defied any effort at combing. She'd seen him often enough, speeding carelessly past the old mother-in-law cottage where she now lived, at the edge of what was now his property. If he wasn't her enemy, she'd be forced to admit he was a fine-looking man, but war left no room for weakness.
"Cassie Calloway." He stepped forward, out of the shadows. "Aren't you a little old for Halloween pranks?" He was warmly dressed in a jacket, jeans, and boots, as though lurking in the bushes at three a.m. was a perfectly normal thing to do.
Heart racing, mind working, Cassie narrowed her eyes. His presence during the ritual would require some extra precautions, but that was all--it wouldn't stop her from doing what she needed to do. Her nervousness fell away, leaving crystalline-hard resolve in its place.
"I didn't come out here to play a prank," she told him coldly.
"What a shame," he drawled, taking a step closer. "I so enjoyed the toilet paper and flaming dog poop last year. The way you rang the bell and ran away afterward was inspired."
Cassie shrugged, holding her head high. "You can't prove it was me. Your word against mine, unless you got me on tape or something." Pure childishness on her part, of course, but she'd been so frustrated by his arrival last year in Calloway Corners that she couldn't help herself. In the twelve months since, she'd found a better way to drive him off, even if it was dangerous for all concerned.
She could do it, she had to do it.
Falco sighed, breath like fog in the air. "We don't have to be enemies, Cassie." His face was a study in shadows; the jut of his nose, the line of his jaw. "There's no reason we can't get along . . . We're neighbors, after all."
"Sure. You sweep in at auction, steal my house, ignore it for years, then refuse to let me buy it back. Real neighborly of you."
He shifted his weight, hands in his pockets. "I didn't steal it," he said quietly. "My father bought it from your father, and paid a fair price for it."
"It wasn't his to sell," she snapped, still pained by her father's betrayal. "This property belonged to my mother's side of the family, and was supposed to go to me."
"And you never let anyone in this town forget it," Falco shot back grimly. "You've convinced half the town to have nothing to do with me, and the other half is actually convinced that the place is haunted."
Above her, an owl hooted , reminding her of everything she had to lose, and the sound made her feel brave, and powerful. Falco didn't know it, but there was magic in the air, and Cassie welcomed it, letting it sweep over her like the night wind.
"It's not haunted yet," she told him, "but after tonight, it's going to be."
He took another step closer. "I think you need to go home."
"I am home. This land, this house--it's special to me." She gave him one last chance to redeem himself. "I've offered more than once to buy it back, Falco. I didn't have the money when I was a teenager--I couldn't do anything about it when my dad sold it--but now I can give you everything you paid for it, and more."
"I like it here," he said stonily. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, lifted his chin. "I'm keeping it."
Cassie looked up then, at the moon shining brightly above their heads. A ripple moved across it, a glimmer, really, almost too faint to see.
"That's what you think," she said, just before the jasmine entwined around his ankles. It was up to his knees before he noticed it. "You don't belong here, and I'm taking my house back."
"WHAT THE--" FALCO felt his feet go out from under him, his butt hitting the ground painfully, with a solid thump. As quickly as it entwined his ankles, the jasmine entwined his wrists, pinning him in a seating position. He yanked and jerked, but there was no escaping it.
"The vines won't hurt you unless I tell them to," his troublesome little trespasser had the nerve to say. "You might as well sit still and stop pulling."
Incredulous, he ignored her advice, yanking and tugging some more. "What the hell is going on?"
"You weren't supposed to be out here tonight." Cassie didn't seem the least bit concerned that he'd been attacked by killer vegetation. She walked a few feet away, unslinging a leather bag from around her neck and placing it on the ground. Dressed all in black, the only bright spots about her were her hair, light blond and drawn into a ponytail, and her face, pale but expressionless. "You were supposed to be asleep."
"Sorry to disappoint you," he ground out. "A little help here?"
"No can do, Falco." She bent to gather deadwood, stacking it in her arms. "I have some work to do, and you're just going to have to sit through it."
"Work?" He gave the jasmine one last vicious yank, peering at it closely to see what kind of snare she'd used. All he could see was vines. "What kind of work is that?"
"My grandmother keeps coming to me in my dreams," she told him bluntly, dumping her first armload of wood into a pile about twelve feet in front of him. "She doesn't like having a stranger in her house, and quite frankly, neither do I." Brushing her hands together, Cassie placed them on her hips. "You wouldn't leave of your own accord, so now I'm forced to use my powers."
Falco gave a skeptical snort. "Your powers?"
Wordlessly, she held out her hands. Within moments, an eerie green glow began emanating from her palms. "Yes, my powers."
"Halloween tricks," he growled, glaring at her.
"No." Cassie shook her head slowly, meeting his fierce gaze. "I am the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, the last--and the strongest--of my line." She brought her hands together, creating what looked like a ball of green energy. "I'm a witch."
He muttered something that sounded like "witch" but wasn't, but good manners kept him from saying it too loudly.
She dropped her hands, which immediately returned to normal, the green glow disappearing. Then she turned away, letting him stew as she gathe
red more wood.
Frustrated and furious, he tugged and tested his bonds again and again, to no avail. The vines were as stubborn as she was, which he'd already learned was pretty darn stubborn. He knew more about Cassie Calloway than she thought he did, and somehow, someway, he was going to use it to his advantage.
Tossing the next armful of wood onto the pile, Cassie squatted next to it and blew, gently, willing it into flame. A red glow, a slight crackle, and it sparked to life. "Thank you," she whispered to the wood, surprising him with the gentleness of her tone; she'd certainly never spoken that way to him.
"So you're a witch." He was willing to humor her if it helped him get free. "Did you put some kind of spell on these vines?"
"I didn't have to. They sensed what I wanted them to do, and they did it."
"The vines read your mind." He tried to keep the skepticism from his voice, and failed.
"I'm very attuned to plants," she snapped, "and they to me."
He sighed. Why were the hot chicks always the craziest? Cassie Calloway was downright gorgeous, even in the dark, but she clearly had a screw loose.
And she hated his guts.
He clearly remembered the first time he saw her, behind the counter at what passed for the local grocery store. Calloway Corners wasn't a very big town, which was one of the things he liked about it. One look at that silvery blond hair and curvaceous body, and he'd done a double take. Then she'd narrowed those green eyes, turned up that cute little nose, and snubbed him dead, right there at the counter.
"We're closed," she'd told him coldly, even though there'd been several other people in the store. Then she'd turned her back and walked away from the register, leaving him stranded with a basket of much-needed groceries. The old guy who owned the place had to come out and ring him up, and when he did, Falco had found out who she was.
Cassie Calloway, the woman who'd been harassing him about the house for years. Letters, phone calls . . . she'd even sicced some lawyer on him, claiming the sale at auction had violated her family trust.
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