by SF Benson
“W-why here? Why now?”
I move away from Delaney so fast I almost stumble and fall. It’s Antoinette. Her father, a permanent scowl on his face and fire in his eyes, is behind her. His hands grip the wheelchair’s handles tightly. A victorious smile, however, spreads across the lips of the siren.
No amount of words will change what Antoinette saw. When the elevator dings and the doors slide open, Matt wheels her away. No words spoken. No punches thrown.
Whirling around, I face Delaney. “What the fuck was that about?”
“Get over yourself, Uraeleus. You enjoyed it.” Her manicured finger points to my throbbing dick.
“Not the point!” I rasp and start to walk away when she grabs my elbow. “What the hell do you want now?”
She tugs me close and lowers her voice. “It wasn’t my choice. A certain witch doesn’t want you spending time with that girl. She paid me well for that kiss.”
Glaring at the siren, I yank my arm away. Slowly, my head rocks side to side. Cherina wouldn’t do that, would she? Friends don’t pull shit like this with each other.
“What did she pay you?”
“She restored my powers. If I do anything to help you, she’ll take them away from me.” The siren shoves her hands into the pockets of her violet scrub top. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t like being reduced to mere flesh and blood.”
With those words, Delaney strolls around the corner and out of my life. Fixing this ugly mess requires a little expertise and a helluva lot of help. Pulling out my phone, I jog toward the exit.
Victor meets me at Balls Up. I order a steak and whiskey neat but can’t find the appetite to finish the food. It’s probably not a wise move, but I’m on my third drink.
“That’s all Antoinette said?” Victor asks.
“She didn’t have to say anything else.” I swirl the amber liquid in the glass before taking a healthy swig. “I fell for the oldest trick. It’s a stunt I used to pull back in my days—guaranteed to make any woman run for the hills.”
Victor gestures to the bartender, a member of the Romero pack, for refills of my whiskey and his crimson. “Did any of the women ever forgive the men?”
“Not a one. There’s no way Antoinette will think it was one-sided. Not after what she saw.”
Narrowed eyes land on me right before Victor’s mouth drops open. “Oh shit, Old Man. You are screwed.” He covers his mouth and then rubs his chin. “Okay. Maybe we can fix this with a little female intervention.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I think I’ve had enough intervention for one day.” I toss back my drink and reach for the next one.
“Just listen for a minute.” Victor pauses with his glass in mid-air. “We need someone Antoinette will listen to. Someone without an interest in whether you succeed or not.”
“Hello? Remember me?” I point to my chest. “The wraith without friends?”
“You’re wrong, but you don’t need a friend right now. You need your allies. Who else is a powerful witch in this town?”
I rest my head in my palm. My allies are as few as my friends.
Victor taps his fingers against the polished wood counter. “I swear, Old Man, there are times… You’re letting humanity beat the shit out of you. Have you forgotten about Elsbeth? Same coven as Cherina? I think she owes you one for making things right with the Blue Moon Witches.”
Lifting my head, I realize he’s right. The coven requested permission to use the Club for a special event—Witches Night Out is what Elsbeth called it. I gave it without hesitation. “Let’s go find her.”
Elsbeth, one of the oldest residents of Falls Creek other than myself, lives in a cabin on the other side of Crucifix Island. The only way to reach her property is by boat and special invite given twenty-four hours in advance due to the wards surrounding the three-acre lot. Because neither Victor nor myself wanted to jump through any hoops, Elsbeth agreed to meet with us at the park’s mausoleum.
Heels click on the concrete outside the structure. Crunching gravel along with the swish of heavy fabric comes over the threshold. A dark shadow casts in the doorway as Elsbeth steps into the Gothic structure, dragging her dirty, tattered black dress behind her. The Red Witch, as she’s more commonly known, brings with her a slew of dust and her eight-legged pets. Her ancient hideousness is masked behind the attractive face of a much younger woman, but she maintained her piercings—one below her bottom lip and one anchored at the corner of her right eyebrow. Elsbeth tosses her fiery-colored hair off her slender, bare shoulders while her bright blue eyes dart around the space until she finds me. Folding her arms over her slight chest drags down her top and reveals the word “Incarnate” seared into the flesh above a breast. In a grating voice, much like the creaking wrought-iron gate on this enclosure, she asks, “And why have you summoned me, Uraeleus?”
“Calling in a debt,” I inform her.
She casts an eye toward Victor. “And the vampire?”
“Just making sure there aren’t any issues, Elsbeth,” Victor says.
Her mouth curls up, and the bolt beneath her lip bobs slightly. “Very well. Both of you have been gracious to my coven. What can we do for you?”
I side-glance at Victor. He nods, so I continue, “Only you, Elsbeth. I’m having trouble with Cherina. She’s interfering in my life.”
The Red Witch holds her head back and cackles. “This is rich, Uraeleus. You’re not supposed to have a life. Please tell me what my dear sister has done.”
“She restored powers to a siren in order to get the creature to bend to her will,” I inform. “The siren put me in a compromising position with someone—”
Loud laughter buries my words. Elsbeth’s gnarled hands hold her sides as the sound reverberates around us. She shakes her head and turns a palm out. “I’m sorry. This is the best shit I’ve heard all day. What on earth do you expect me to do? Cherina is one of my witches. She’s young and impulsive, but well within her own powers.”
Pushing the hair off my forehead, I look toward the ceiling. Reluctance I expected, not outright defiance.
Elsbeth calms down and inches closer. “My dear, Uraeleus, I sense your frustration, but this is a private matter between you and Cherina. Why aren’t you talking to her?”
My gaze swings to the witch. “Because she gave me this body and is threatening to take it away if I don’t go along with her idea for me. Because she’s blocking my chance at happiness when she said I could have it.” My voice rises, and I point my finger toward Elsbeth’s chest. “Because her interference is fucking my world up, and if she doesn’t stop, I’m going to do something I swore I wouldn’t do again!”
She takes a step back, keeping her eyes locked on mine. “I suggest you calm your ass down. You’re human now, Uraeleus. If I want, I can send you back to the afterlife.”
We sum each other up before I retreat to the shadows.
Victor clears his throat. “Elsbeth, what my friend so rudely explained is the truth. The way I see it, a promise is a promise. Cherina assured him a body and the opportunity to enjoy life. Her conspiring against my friend breaks a covenant, don’t you think?”
“I suppose,” she says. “Uraeleus, I will help you this time. As I said earlier, you helped my coven. But this gesture repays the debt. Do not ask anything else of me again, especially against my sisters.” She pauses until I come out of the darkness. “What would you have me do?”
Drawing in a deep breath, I carefully consider my words. “Nothing difficult. I just need you to talk to the girl. Let her know what she saw was Cherina’s meddling, nothing more.”
A mischievous expression crosses Elsbeth’s face. “And what did she see?”
“Me kissing Delaney,” I mutter.
Laughter starts up again. “You fell for her? Oh, this is so priceless. Please, let me take a look for myself.”
Great. The last thing I want is to open my mind to this witch. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I squeeze my eyes closed. Cherina is t
he only witch who has been inside my head—a painful, unwelcome experience. But if I want Elsbeth’s help, I don’t have a choice. “Go ahead.”
Elsbeth comes closer and reaches up, placing her thin fingers against my temple. She closes her eyes as warmth passes through my flesh. The intrusion tickles at first. Pain soon replaces it as her touch rifles through my memories. The agony is short-lived as she pulls out of my head. Her eyes open and meet mine.
“That was some kiss.” Her eyes lower to my crotch. “And some reaction on your part. If I had known you were so well-endowed, I would have propositioned you myself. Are you sure we can’t work out some arrangement?”
“Positive.” I grimace.
A shudder shoots straight down my spine at the thought. I have fucked my share of women—both gorgeous and not so gorgeous, but I’ve never laid with someone who terrifies me like this female. Rumor has it one look at her true nature will turn a person to ash.
The Red Witch waves her hand in the air. “Fine, fine. I’ll go see this Antoinette. After I’ve spoken to her, I’ll contact you.” She turns and heads toward the exit.
“Wait! How do you know where she is?” I say to Elsbeth’s back.
She pivots on her heel and taps her head. “Honey, I got all I needed while I was in there. I even know why this girl is so important to you.” Her blue eyes swing to Victor. “We’ll talk later without the audience.”
The witch finally departs, taking the dusty trail of spiders with her.
“Why couldn’t she speak in front of me?” Victor asks, standing by my side.
“Your guess is as good as mine. I just hope she can help.”
Victor shoves an elbow in my ribs and chuckles. “If not, you have your choice of strange. Either the Red Witch or a sex-starved siren.”
“Sorry. If those are my only choices, I’ll go back to being a wraith.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Antoinette
All afternoon I’ve sat and stewed in a funkiness of my own design. It’s so thick I’m sure it’s visible to anyone who looks at me.
When Dad brought me home earlier than anticipated, Mom swept in with her concern. He tried to be discreet in giving her the details. Frankly, I didn’t care who knew. I’d been a fool over a man who had no more interest in me than a fly over a brand new trash can.
Of course, Mom couldn’t let the matter be. She does what she does best whenever someone is hurting. Chocolate chip cookies are her solution to whatever ails you—colds, flu, crappy recitals, and broken hearts. Sadly, I don’t have it in me to tell her cookies won’t solve this shit. So I eat. I shove the sweet treats in my mouth and swallow them with tall glasses of milk, wishing for something stronger. Preferably a drink laced with a little arsenic.
It’s really unfathomable I could be so fucking stupid. Although I thought I was lying to Cherina, I should have realized that I was simply a charity case for Marc. Men with an agenda know how to sweet talk. No. Let me correct myself. Spirits turned men know how to get what they want. For Marc it was a ticket to cross over and maybe enter Heaven. Of course, he’d let me believe that he was interested in me. It’s probably part of the program for his kind—get humans to believe the impossible and then spirits get to go on to a happy afterlife.
Come now. Does that even make sense? Good deeds earn passages to Heaven, not pranks.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore.
Doctors claim I haven’t lost all sensation below the waist. Walking and even sex may be possible again. Just no dancing. Seriously, what kind of life will that be like?
One without Marc.
If you insist on venturing down this road, maybe you’ll find someone who’ll settle for a quickie. Maybe he’ll be a despicable ass who’ll cheat on you with someone who can bend her body in positions worthy of the Kama Sutra.
Great. Even my fucking inner voice wants to pick a fight. Am I really being so unreasonable? I thought there might be something igniting with Marc. Whenever he’s around, I don’t dwell on the breakup with Rob.
Naturally, thoughts of my ex equally morph into a replay of the accident. If I’d dumped his ass months ago, the accident wouldn’t have happened. There wouldn’t have been a phone call. There wouldn’t have been any incessant whining and begging.
And there would have never been a need for Marc.
As daylight gives over to a darkening sky, I continue sitting in front of the window. Only moving to be helped to the bathroom. Dad offered to put me back in bed, but I refused. Better to face my situation upright than on the flat of my back.
The doorbell rings, and I hear voices—Mom with someone I don’t recognize. Footsteps thud over the hardwood, and then Mom comes around the corner. By her side is a thin woman with fiery-red hair and wearing black hospital scrubs.
“Antoinette, one of your doctors sent over his nurse to check on you. They were concerned when you didn’t show up for your appointment with Dr. Rogers.”
The woman’s lips curl up. “This won’t take long.”
Mom nods and says, “Well, I’ll leave you two alone then.”
Her footsteps fade as she goes down the hall. The only noise comes from the TV blaring in the living room. The stranger dawdles in the doorway for a moment. She lifts her hand, and the sounds in the house muffle.
How in the hell?
The answer makes me grip the wheelchair’s handles. “You’re not human.”
She walks in and stops near the foot of the bed. “So you can see us and what we do. Delaney said as much, but I didn’t believe her. Interesting indeed.” The stranger stalks closer.
“What are you, and what do you want?” The path to the door is blocked. I wonder if I yelled over the intercom if anyone would hear me.
“No, they won’t,” answers the stranger. “Anything said or done in this room remains in this room.”
I cock my head to the side.
“Yes, I read your thoughts. So be careful of what you think.”
Warning duly noted.
She continues in a rough, ragged voice belonging to an elderly woman or a chain-smoker. “To answer your earlier questions… What I am is of no concern to you. My name is Elsbeth, and I’m here to set a record straight.”
No doubt she is another one of Marc’s friends. “Not interested.”
Elsbeth snaps her fingers, and my lips seal shut. Desperately, I try to pry them apart to no avail.
“I did not come here to listen to a whiny human. My goal is to make sure you understand what has been done.”
The stranger wanders around my room, picking up and replacing items as she speaks. “The redheaded nurse you saw with Uraeleus…” Elsbeth glances at me. “You know him as Marc… You need to know the nurse isn’t human.”
Duh!
Elsbeth’s eyes narrow, sending a silent alert my way. I swallow hard.
“Uraeleus has an enemy in this world, but I found out it’s not Cherina. The vengeful vampire conspired with the siren to trap Uraeleus. Marc’s only crime is being a man. Humans are unable to resist the charms of sirens. When the spell is cast, many souls stumble into their nets.”
Sirens… I thought they lured men with song.
“Even paranormals are forced to change their tactics to survive in this world.” She continues disrupting items, not caring if she places them back in the right spots.
Unable to speak, I simply glare at the scarlet-haired woman. Am I to believe Marc is innocent? I know what I saw. It didn’t look as if the siren acted alone.
“Uraeleus is only guilty of his reaction. What do you expect from a man who hasn’t had sex in centuries?” An eyebrow quirks up, emphasizing her point.
There are questions I’d like to voice. I point to my mouth. Elsbeth snaps her fingers again, and the seal breaks with an audible pop.
“Who is this vampire that has it out for Marc? I thought the only one not on his side was his witch friend.”
“I assure you Cherina nor any of my sisters were involved.
”
Perhaps another witch…
“The deception is all on the vampire. He encouraged the siren to lie. You, however, do not have to worry about it. I will handle the situation.”
“Whatever.” I fold my arms as best as I can with the cast. “You’ve said your piece, so…”
Elsbeth takes another step closer. Her hands fist, and the air around me crackles. My heart does its own version of a pas de chat, a quick step mimicking how a cat jumps in the air. The temperature cranks up a notch, and sweat trickles down my back.
“I’ll let your impudence slide.” Elsbeth’s voice hisses as it coils toward me like a snake. “You’re an ignorant, insufferable human.” She grips the sides of my wheelchair and leans forward. Breath like rotting flesh covers me, and I gag. “For future reference, no one dismisses me.”
My arms shake while the heat tumbling from her mouth threatens to scorch my skin. I don’t dare respond.
Satisfied with my silence, Elsbeth takes a step back and studies me like a bug she might squash. “Your feistiness might be appealing to Uraeleus. It may even be why he finds you interesting. I, however, am not amused or impressed.”
Our eyes meet as a mutual understanding passes between us.
“Be that as it may,” the witch says. “I came to deliver a message. Hear Uraeleus out when he comes to you. Outside of today, it’s been centuries since he last kissed or fucked a woman. Forgive him his weakness.”
My mouth opens. Elsbeth points her long, thin finger at me. “Your comment is not needed. Now I will leave.”
With those final words, the female steps over the threshold. She waves her hand in the air, and suddenly I hear the clink of pots and pans mingling with the blaring TV. I blink, and Elsbeth is gone. The front door opening and slamming shut is the only evidence someone has been here.
Mom appears in the doorway. “Everything okay?”
“Sure,” I lie as I look out the window. Elsbeth’s image fades as she walks down the sidewalk. Something tells me things are far from being all right.
