A white woman in a VW.
Awesome.
Thank God, in my hurry to follow him, I threw on yoga pants, a t-shirt, and flip-flops. I didn’t even bother with makeup and my hair’s a mess. Maybe no one will take notice of me.
Suddenly, I see him exit the back door of the house and drop to his knees. He crawls toward a bush and pukes.
Oh shit.
Pebbles fly as I race up the block, ignoring the stop sign. With my engine running, I dash out of my car, grab him under the arms, and help him stagger into my back seat. One guy rushes after us but I put both hands on his chest, overwhelming him with good thoughts and grace.
“Goddess bless you and you have a nice day. Can you ask the other nice gentlemen to let us go on our way?”
He smiles with a goofy look, obviously pretty high. I guess that’s why he was so easily manipulated.
He waves the other men away. “We’re good here.”
Not looking back, I jump into the front seat, leaving the back-door open. Once I get a few miles away, turning randomly at every corner, I pull to the curb.
A terrible odor comes from Mohegan, reminding me of that Halloween party and what hit me inside the store last night. At the sight of his rolled-up sleeve and needle mark, my stomach wretches.
It’s even worse when he pukes all over me.
“What the fuck did they give you?” I shake him and slap his face until his eyes open into little slits. but his chin just rolls onto his chest.
“Mohegan. Answer me. What are you on?”
“Heroin. Fentanyl. Shit. Higher than a fucking kite.” He moans and grabs his stomach.
I swear this guy’s got a death wish.
Even after I pour my healing energy into him, his heart beats too fast and his breathing is irregular. I’m not sure, he still might die. His skin color’s an awful shade of blue.
I should take him back home but what if he goes into cardiac arrest while I’m driving? My phone app says the nearest hotel is only a mile away so I park in a lot topped with barbed wire, and hurry him in. The lobby smells of mold, mildew, and God knows what else but at least it’s a place where I can watch over his recovery.
After handing the manager a credit card, I put my arm around Mohegan’s waist. From there, I half-drag him up the stairs and into the hotel room where he drops onto the bed. His open eyes dart, seeing only what the drugs put there.
Abruptly, he coughs, and stops breathing.
Shit, oh shit!
The window is nailed shut but I need fresh air. Fuck it all to hell. I pull off his boot and smash the glass. From the third floor, I’m able to summon an ocean breeze that fills the room.
Closing my eyes, I raise my arms and shout out my prayer.
Mother Goddess, Holy Father, One God, all saints of all religions, hear me. Fill me so I can fill him.
When healing power comes, I straddle his waist with my hands to his chest, sharing my healing, willing him to live.
“Dammit, Mohegan. Breathe.” Pinching his nose, I cover his mouth, and force air into him.
When he inhales a wheezy breath, I cry out and I collapse, uttering a prayer of thanks.
After sleeping for hours, I pick up the phone, and duck into the bathroom.
“Zoe?” I whisper. “Can you feed my cat?”
“Sure, but where are you? Jack is going nuts.”
“I can’t say. Just tell him I’m okay. I’ll call again as soon as I can.”
Chapter Nine
Mohegan
It’s dark and cold when I wake. Fresh sea air surrounds me and for a moment, I think I’m dreaming or on a boat. Then, I hear sweet chanting along with the dreaded smell of what can only be described as Olivia’s tea.
A cheap lamp with a thirty-watt bulb barely lights the hotel room but that’s probably a good thing. The comforter smells as if it hasn’t been washed in over a year and God knows what’s living in the sheets.
Still, I’ve slept in worse.
Olivia, no doubt sensing I’ve come around, turns, and wipes her red, runny nose with a storm brewing behind her livid green eyes. “You fucking idiot!”
She’s right but I’m not one to admit such things. “I’m fine. I’ve dealt with shit like this a hundred times.”
Her aura flares in bright oranges, lighting up the room. It’s scary-as-hell if you’ve never seen a pissed-off witch before.
“You stopped breathing. Did you know that?”
Ah fuck. I got nothing.
Her brows scrunch together, her fists clench, and she causes the wind to rush in through the broken window.
“Not so damned arrogant, now, are we, huh? What the hell were you thinking?”
You got to admit, she’s truly magnificent when she’s really angry but my head’s pounding. No doubt, she’ll go ballistic when I ask her to chill but I need to try.
“Can you calm down for a second, Olivia? Please? I’m really sorry that I got you into this.”
Note to self? Shut the fuck up when a tea-witch is being irrational.
Her aura shoots off the charts as she paces the small space in front of the double bed. “What? Got me into this. Dammit, I’m the one that got you into whatever the hell this is. I should’ve just told Jack.”
She sits down on the bed, puts her face into her hands, and sobs.
Ah, man.
Sitting, I scoot beside her and put my arm around her shoulder. I don’t want to argue with her, I’d much rather lay her down and sink into her soft folds.
“Tell me. Why didn’t you tell Fialko?”
Sniffing, she wipes a sleeve across her wet nose and eyes. “I told you. It’s mostly because he and his kind blow the fuck out of everything. I was going to do some of my own investigations, find out who that monster is, then get The Guild to take care of him. We healers need to take care of our own, not always rely on the power of the warring clan.”
Wow. I didn’t see that coming. I thought she was Jack’s lap dog, albeit a beautiful one.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her about my job but get sidetracked when she asks, “What the hell happened in that drug house, Mohegan?”
I explain as best I can from the time I left her place until I got injected. After that she’s the one who has to fill me in and I’m totally awed by how she went right into that hellish den, grabbed my stupid ass, and drove me away to safety.
I put my hand on her thigh and squeeze. “You’re right. I did underestimate them. It won’t happen again.”
Her eyes grow wide and she picks my hand off like her leg like it’s a leech. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, Olivia, I’m not. These people need to be stopped. Next time, I’ll be more careful. I’m calling in more help.”
“Next time?” She looks at me like I’ve gone off the deep end so I hand her my card.
“It’s my business to fix this.”
She moans, eyes raise at the logo, and then throws it back in my face. “Oh, fuck it all to hell. I should’ve known. You’re Guild.”
I don’t like her insulting tone so I stand. “Can I borrow your cell? I need to call my grandfather.”
“Sure thing, guild-man. Use my phone. Use me. Please do. Unbelievable. I should’ve known.” Sulking, she stands and with no other place to hide, steps into the bathroom and slams the door.
“What the hell crawled up your ass?”
“Nothing. I need more tea, that’s all.” She mumbles some more and says a nasty curse under her breath to ward off evil.
I guess sex is off the table as she’s got a serious problem with my primary source of income. I don’t get it. Generally, The Guild is considered the good guys.
Much later, she comes out of the bathroom frowning and says nothing more except to sigh a whole lot.
Too tired to fight, we pass the day in a kind of truce. However, given her unwillingness to answer any questions about why she hates The Guild, our relationship takes a dive. Luckily, we like the same movies on TV and late
r, I let her have the bed. There’s no way I want to wake up poking her with my morning wood.
I awake to bright sunlight shining through a hole in the dirty window. Both the change in the weather and my missing headache inspire me to step out for bagels and strong coffee. When I pass a thrift store, I recall how I threw up all over Olivia and buy her a change of clothes.
Back in the hotel room, almost cheerful, I throw a bag on her bed, lean over, and kiss her on the cheek.
“Time to wake up, sleepyhead. My grandfather will be landing soon.”
Her aura seems calmer today as she holds up the white underwear, the kind grannies wear, and snickers.
“Thanks, I think.”
Out comes a pair of sweats and a man’s extra-large t-shirt that says Atlantic City. I also bought her a fine-toothed comb that will never get through those curls, a toothbrush, and some toothpaste.
She scoops up all her belongings, enters the bathroom and screams. “Oh my God, you should see this huge spider.”
A chuckle escapes, despite my best efforts. “You need help?”
I assume not because there’s a bunch of loud stomping, something about a fat-ass carcass, and the toilet flushes.
Damn, she’s awesome.
Later, when she exits the bathroom, my mouth dries and my heart stops. Wearing less than twenty bucks worth of clothes and no makeup, she’s fucking beautiful.
Erase that.
She’s beautiful and I want to fuck her.
While she sits, I turn to look out the window, willing my hard-on to subside.
Maybe discussing the job might help. “While I was out shopping, I saw a couple other healer-addicts downstairs. I think you found the place they hole up when they’re high.”
“Oh goody-goody.” She rolls her eyes.
“Listen, I know you’re still miffed about yesterday but –”
“No, miffed is when someone forgets an anniversary or tramples your herb garden. I am fucking furious.”
“Enough! Just drop it, okay?”
Her eyes go wide when I take two steps and pull her into my chest.
She takes a solid fist to my chest. “I can’t. I feel… something. And it hurts. And when I thought you were dead… and you’re a God-damned guild-man.”
When her sob bursts out, I swallow it with a kiss, and rub her back. “I’m so sorry, babe.”
I don’t even know what or why I’m apologizing but it feels right.
We just stand there hugging with me inhaling her delicious scent and she rubbing my back until my cock makes itself known. “Shit. Sorry, ‘Liv.”
“It’s okay, Mo.”
“That’s not my nickname.”
“Well, what do people shorten it to?”
“Mohegan.”
“You’re such an ass. C’mon. Let’s go get your grandfather.”
Chapter Ten
Olivia
I don’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t the words Mohegan Securities written in big red letters on the side of a white jet. Nor did I expect to see a brown-skinned man bounce down the roll-away stairs with a white pony tail resting on his suit jacket.
And what a magnificent corona! His body absolutely glows with shades of royal blue, forest green, and bright yellows.
Smiling widely, the old gentleman approaches us while loosening his tie and an arm reaching toward Mohegan. “Good to see you, son.”
“Thanks for coming, Eduda.”
They embrace, slapping each other on the back with eyes squeezed tight.
It’s not until they let go that I clear my throat. “Ah-hem?”
“Oh sorry. Eduda, this is Olivia.” Mohegan pushes me forward and I do a little curtsy.
Seriously?
“Glad to meet you, sir.”
“You can call me Eduda.” The grinning witch winks, grabs both our arms, and heads toward the parking lot. “Come on. Let’s see what kind of mess you two got me into.”
After ordering coffee at a nearby diner, Mohegan downloads everything we have to date and I only interrupt when he tries to lessen his near-death experience.
Eduda pales, making me feel like shit but it’s best not to sugar-coat stuff like that.
“So, when do you go back?” He eyes Mohegan over his coffee mug and relaxes back into his chair.
Whaaat?
I thought for sure someone older and wiser would side with me. “You don’t really expect him to go back to that house, do you? After everything that’s happened.”
“How else will we discover what they’re up to?”
“But he almost died!”
Now, I clearly remember why I hate The Guild. It’s their arrogance, they take way too many chances, and they think they’re immortal, for God’s sake.
Gray eyebrows furrow and the creases of his eyes deepen. “Now that we know what we’re dealing with, we’ll simply take proper precautions.”
Other than that, he’s overly-calm, overly-rational and sounds way too much like my father.
Is everyone in The Guild so damn infuriating?
“It’ll be alright, Olivia.” Under the table, Mohegan squeezes my hand but nothing’s all right because the longer I stay with him, the more I love his noble nature, his sense of right and wrong, his willingness to give his life for a greater cause.
And I don’t think it has anything to do with the God damned spell.
What’s more? I hate him for making me care. He’s a guild-man and like my father, he’ll never stick. The best thing I can do is go home and never see him again. And I would except for the lust spell which is driving me absolutely bonkers.
Mohegan’s grandfather stands, stretches, and drops a few bills on the table. “Let’s get a decent hotel room, have a meal, then we decide our course of action.”
Single file, we walk down the crowded sidewalk where busloads of people line up in front of the Golden Nugget. Once inside, Eduda flips a gold card out of his wallet and hands it to a man behind the front desk whose nametag says manager. After he keys in some information, his eyes widen and he stands taller.
“Mohegan? Nice to see you again, sir. Is there anything I can get you?”
“We’ll be needing a cab in a few. Other than that, I’m sure everything will be fine.” His statement sounds more like a warning.
“I’ll make sure, personally. Please, give me just a minute.” A curt nod, the man hands over a set of key cards, then almost knocks people over while rushing to the elevators.
Now what was that all about?
Glad for a few minutes to spare, I make the two Mohegans wait outside a boutique while I pick up a cute, little black dress and heels. I can’t possibly wear yoga pants and a t-shirt to dinner.
Then, we take the elevator to the top floor and when Eduda swipes his card, I ask for mine.
He glances behind his back. “Sorry, dear. We can’t take any chances. Don’t worry. We have a lovely suite with plenty of room.”
The way he chuckles, he must know I’m dying to fuck the living b’jesus out of his grandson.
“It’s okay.” Actually, I’m a bit put out until I see the beautiful, honest-to-God Jacuzzi in my room.
Maybe after a good soak, I can get these stubborn witches to see the light. The others they’re trying to save aren’t worth the effort. They’re thieves and lowlifes after power, money or both. None of them is worth two guild men risking their lives. We should just call the cops and have them arrest the fuckers. Better yet, I can call Jack. He’ll fry them to a crisp, once I explain.
I just don’t get it and during dinner, I express this opinion rather vehemently.
Grandfather Mohegan chews his braised sea bass, swallows, then sips his Pinot Grigio. “I agree with you, Olivia. Most of these witches aren’t stellar citizens but they weren’t murderers or warlocks until they got hooked on heroin. We need to see how many we can rehabilitate. If we save even one, it will be worth it.”
“You can’t be serious.”
How can he sa
y such things?
We’ll save most, Eduda. I promise.” Mohegan’s mouth grows into a tight frown and I want to strangle them both.
“Why? Why is this so important?” I’m so damn frustrated.
“We need to tell her, son.” Eduda sighs and shaking his head slowly, takes both my hands in his. “Olivia, if things continue as they are, in two generations, the world will have no more healers.”
“Oh my God. I had no idea. What happened?”
“Generations of intermarriage. We need more couples like you.” After patting them, he places both my hands in Mohegan’s and my heart leaps.
The cheering between my legs now requires pom-poms and a megaphone. It’s been way too long since my special brew and Mohegan looks too fine, dressed in his expensive suit and tie.
While I stare into his gorgeous eyes, getting lost in a sea of gold flecks, his aura flares in a sexual ink as he licks his lip and his nostrils flare.
Eduda laughs loudly, breaking the moment. “What’s this? You don’t even dare touch each other? In my day, we would’ve worked this out by now.”
Mohegan clears his throat, the tops of his cheek bright. “We tried.”
“And?” An eyebrow raises?
“It was great.” I barge in before things get ugly and slide my hand out from under theirs. “So, what do we do next?”
Frowning, my stubborn biker rubs his hand across his beard. “We do not do anything. I am going back into the house. That first dose was their test. If I come back for more, they’ll think I’m addicted. The two in charge will give me orders.
“Can’t we just watch from a distance?”
Please, Goddess, let them think this through better.
“Too risky. Already they don’t trust me.”
“Argh!” I stand, stomp my foot, bringing too many eyes to our table. “Am I the only one here that sees how stupid this is?”
The older Mohegan raises his brows, about to say something but the younger holds a palm down, stands, and kisses me on the cheek. “I got this, hun.”
“Know what? You got jack-shit.” I storm out of the restaurant so they can discuss more nonsense without me.
Mohegan: A Siren's Spell Romance Page 6
