“Wow. All that?” Lisette put her hand on Michael’s and wove her fingers through his. “There is no other man. Sean is Marisa’s brother. He helped me research my parents’ scrolls. He’s a linguist.”
“So, you’re available?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re pissed. And you should torture me for a while.” His eyes crinkled when he chuckled. “Hey, I’m a guy.” His voice grew light with the laughter. “Our needs are a little more concrete. Innuendos don’t work with us. We tend to miss less than obvious signals.”
“How come you didn’t feel our connection before? I had an excuse. I was untrained, ignorant about my gifts.”
“I did sense the connection. Your dormant power was benign. It buzzed like a beehive when we were together. I passed it off to wishful thinking, my imagination.” The resonance of his voice rumbled through her. “But now your power is at the surface, full-blown, untapped energy. Tonight, when you walked in the room, I felt it, and then when I touched you, your energy ripped through my soul like a windstorm out of control. I felt it all right.” He winked those lush black lashes at her. “You can’t be subtle with us guys, or we miss all the cues.”
“Okay. I’ll try to remember that in the future.”
She stood on her toes and linked her arms around his neck, tugging his head down for a kiss. For now, this would have to be enough. Someone wanted her dead, and her one hope of protection depended on Michael and his coven—the coven that didn’t trust her and didn’t want her joined with their warlock.
Michael gripped her chin and forced her face up so he could see her expression. “You’re thinking too hard. What’s wrong?”
“Would anyone in your coven kill to keep us apart?” Lisette shivered in his arms and pulled away.
“I don’t think so,” he said, but the expression in his eyes told her he wouldn’t dismiss the question.
She rubbed her arms and glanced away. “I don’t trust my instincts, yet. Someone killed my parents and thought the fire killed me, too. Since I’ve been practicing the craft, I’ve sensed a sinister presence. I’m afraid.”
“Here? Now?”
When she nodded, Michael glanced through the crowd in the club, trying to get a sense of any evil vibes, but he didn’t feel evil directed at her, specifically.
“Come on.” Hand in hand, he walked her back to the table and Marisa. When Lisette didn’t sit, he handed her a water bottle and dismissed Marisa’s worried gaze with a shrug.
“Drink. Clear your head.” He lowered his voice and whispered in Lisette’s ear, “Draw your power in. Remember to wrap it around you like a cocoon for protection, and repeat the Golden Mist Shield spell. You know it?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “Uh-ha.”
He took the water bottle, placed it on the table, and gripped Lisette’s hands in his. The trembling in her lower lip stopped when her shoulders squared. And Marisa visibly relaxed when he winked at her, letting her know Lisette would be okay.
“There you go,” he said as Lisette cloaked her power around her like a mantle. “Excellent, that one is simple to call on when confronted with negative people, demons, or curses. It’s a temporary measure, but it’s effective enough. And I’m here with you—”
Her eyes popped wide open. “What happens when you’re not?”
“Not an issue.” He wrapped himself around her from behind and nuzzled her neck.
Turning her in his arms, he stared deep into her eyes to reassure her. “Are you packed?” he asked casually. Picking up the bill, he pulled out enough cash to cover the tab and a generous tip.
“Packed? No—”
“Yes. I packed for the weekend for both of us,” Marisa stood and chimed in before Lisette could answer. “Our suitcases are in my car out front.”
“You did?” Lisette turned to her friend and her brow furrowed. “What for?”
Thank goodness, Marisa was on his side. He wanted to chuckle at Marisa’s match making efforts but didn’t dare. Hell, he wouldn’t risk a smile if it meant pissing off Lisette, not after she was coming around.
“We’ll just ride with you,” Marisa said to Michael, ignoring Lisette’s questions.
“You get your things, and I’ll pick you up out front.” He rubbed at the rough shadow beard on his jaw and suddenly realized Lisette had grown rigid in his arms.
“Lisette?” He cupped her nape. “You okay with coming to the estate, tonight?” He dipped his head and drew her mouth toward his. As her eyes shuttered closed, he murmured against her lips, “I want to keep you safe.”
She pulled back, suddenly fidgeting with nervous energy he could feel pouring off her. “I need to get a costume. And a group of us were going to visit the voodoo shop and get a commemorative tattoo—”
“Shh, shh. I’ll bring you back into town in the morning. If you want, you and Marisa can pick up your cars, then. Don’t worry about the tattoo. We’ll take care of that tonight.”
“I can’t shake the danger.” She trembled in his arms. “A grizzly-looking man the size of a bear—”
“What?” Recalling his vision, tension gripped Michael’s soul. He glanced around and held her tighter. “Where?”
“A vision.” Her skin felt like ice. “He’s a warlock with a pentacle tattoo on his chest. A tattoo like...yours.” She put her hand to her lower back as if thinking about her own mark. “You do have one on the base of your spine, don’t you? I’ve seen it, but when?”
The exact instant the memory spell exploded, it jarred the old mistrust she’d been holding back. “The woods!”
Her anger hit him like a slap in the face, and because he deserved it, he let her rage beat at him like a whip.
“The Blood Moon. Beltane…” He helped her remember it all.
“Y-you...put a memory spell on the drink you gave me.” Disbelief and fear clouded her expression.
“I was responsible for the safety of my coven, and to my soul mate, don’t forget.” He half laughed. “You realize the irony of all this? The soul mate I was protecting is you.”
She waved her hands and tried to back away from him, but he’d have none of her resistance. He tugged her closer and whispered. “My heart knew before my mind did that you were the one. I kept fighting the idea for the sake of the coven. No more.”
Lisette inhaled rapidly. “You had a disturbing vision...a warlock turned into a bear. It attacked a wolf...me. A panther...you. You fought the bear. The warlock in my vision is the bear in yours. I think he’s the one who killed my parents, and tried to kill me...for this.” She gripped her pendant.
“That settles it. Stay with me tonight—”
“Yes,” she quietly acquiesced, and her lashes fluttered closed in defeat.
“No argument?”
“No. I’m more afraid of a murdering warlock who can turn into a bear than I am interested in keeping my pride. I’m not stupid enough to risk my life because I’m disappointed in you.”
“Don’t be, please. I’m so sorry.” He brushed his lips against hers hoping, in time, he could make her understand. “I need you to believe in me.”
When her head tilted up, she gave him a worried little grin and blinked away the dampness from her eyes. Her emotion hit him like a punch to his chest. The emotion gripped his heart and squeezed.
Oh, she was the one all right. What they’d had between them before was nothing compared to this. With each day since she began practicing the craft, her power had grown, and so had their bond. How much more could he stand?
He bent to kiss her and to his surprise, she dove into the lip action with more enthusiasm than he expected, or could handle in public. She opened her lips and explored his mouth, her tongue passionately tangling with his. He was aching, hard, and ready when her breasts pressed into his chest and her hips brushed his groin.
Above the bar chatter and music, a few cat calls shouted, “Get a room.”
Reluctantly, Michael broke the kiss, exhaling a long r
agged sigh. “O-o-okay. Ah, great.”
She had no idea what she was capable of sexually or magically. The glazed look in her eyes told him at least he could still affect her, too. Influenced by her magic, the sexual desire in the club built to a dangerous level. Everyone in the vicinity would be driven into an erotic frenzy if he didn’t get her out of there soon.
Pressing his forehead to hers, he touched the pad of his thumb to her lips. “Don’t forget where we left off, cher.”
The trembling in her body started again, and this time Michael felt the dark magic slide like a snake, weaving its way around them, sniffing and searching, probing her protective shell. Instinct demanded he shield her.
Someone didn’t want them together. Someone wanted the power. Someone he knew. Someone he trusted.
Protect her. Damn right. But how? If anything happened to her, he’d never survive the loss.
The tattoo first.
Lisette’s commemorative tattoo would be more special than she anticipated. He would arrange for her birthmark to be completed. The sooner she had the power, the safer she’d be. Tonight, he’d make the arrangements. There wasn’t time to explain.
Once the voodoo queen magically filled Lisette’s birthmark with the special tattoo, no one in the coven would question Lisette’s rightful position, and he’d bind her to him immediately. Then, when he wasn’t around, she’d be able to call on the elemental powers through the spirit animals to protect her.
Before dawn, the Pentacle of Power would be rejoined, and they would have fulfilled their function in the prophecy.
“Let’s get out of here.” Michael kept Lisette between Marisa and himself as they made their way from the back to the door, where the big bouncer stood like a sentry.
“Desmond, give us a ten minute head-start. Understand?”
The big man smiled, squeezed Michael’s shoulder, and winked at Lisette. “Be my pleasure, my friends.”
Michael cringed, considering the way Desmond would delay the evil following them, but all the same, he was grateful the fallen angel was on their side.
“Wait,” he said, and then Desmond did something puzzling. He cupped Marisa’s face in his big hands and lowered his mouth to hers. “Take care my little angel. I’ll meet you later.”
Lisette’s look of surprise matched his own. Michael asked, “Ah, when did…” He pointed to Marisa and Desmond.
Lisette interrupted, “Angel? Marissa, what’s going on?”
Marissa just grinned. “You two were dancing and I was bored. A girl has a right to have a secret or two.” She did a little finger wave at Desmond and walked out, leaving Lisette and Michael to follow, stunned.
Chapter Seven
On the trip out to Michael’s family estate, Lisette grilled Marisa, who remained unyielding through to the barrage of questions.
Beneath the waxing full moon, the estate looked especially beautiful. Tiny lights like lightning bugs twinkled in the trees, and old fashioned lampposts lining the drive, lit their way. Lisette wasn’t sure what she’d expected. A broken-down ramshackle, haunted house? A gothic fortress?
The intricate fountain in the circular driveway, surrounded with bushes and autumn flowering plants, would enhance the gardenlike atmosphere in the daylight.
She stifled a yawn, and Michael chuckled. “Long day?”
“Long year. I’m keyed up and feeling the burn out of school, I guess.”
“And…you and me and…” She touched his arm and clutched her pendant.
“I know, cher.” He nodded and squeezed her hand. “We’re here now, so you can relax.”
“Easy for you to say.” She gave her friend a dirty look. “I also just found out my best friend is keeping secrets from me.”
Marisa maintained her Mona Lisa smile as Lisette ranted.
“Well there’s a fortress of protective wards surrounding the area,” he whispered. “Let me help you ladies with your luggage.”
He escorted Marisa and Lisette to the front entry, and while they looked around, he went back to the car and brought the luggage from the trunk.
“Your home is…lovely.” Lisette yawned again.
Michael took her arm. “Don’t fade on me. We have more to do tonight to prepare for tomorrow, cher.”
She shook her head. “I’m okay.”
He leaned closer. “Can you handle a little ceremony tonight if it means your safety?”
“I guess,” she responded in the same whispered pitch. The furrow in her forehead deepened. “Now you have me intrigued.” She narrowed her eyes and glowered. “Spill it.”
“Not yet. I have a few special guests joining us in a little while. Then you’ll understand.”
He redirected his attention to Marisa. “Your rooms are just down this hall.” He pointed out the adjoining guest rooms and bath. “I’m over there—” he pointed to a door across from Lisette’s “—if you need anything.”
“Right.” Marisa giggled. “How convenient—” The sound of the doorbell interrupted the conversation making Lisette jump. Michael took her hand and wound their fingers together.
“Marisa, why don’t you get settled? Before we go to bed, Lizette needs to meet a few people who can help me ensure her safety. This shouldn’t take long.”
“I’m going to sleep. Let Desmond know where I am if he asks.” Marisa checked to see if her friend was all right with the plan, and smiled when Lisette waved her on.
“Remember, you have some splaining to do.”
****
Michael opened the front door to a woman Lisette remembered from her trip to coven headquarters. The expression in the gypsy beauty’s eyes appeared friendlier now than it had then.
“Giselle, thank you for coming on such short notice. Marie should be along—” Before Michael closed the door another woman, perhaps in her mid-forties, arrived with, of all people, Desmond and another man. “Ah, here she is now.”
To Lisette’s surprise, this woman smiled. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing Isaiah, my grandson.”
She didn’t look old enough to have a grandson Isaiah’s age, but the woman’s friendly greeting, and Desmond’s presence, did a lot to relax Lisette. She wondered what purpose these specific people would play tonight.
Michael held out his hand to Isaiah, but the man merely handed him the bag he’d been carrying. For a second, Michael paused, his brow pinched into a suspicious scowl. Apparently he was disconcerted with Isaiah’s action, Lisette didn’t blame him.
Desmond closed the door behind them and Michael said, “Thanks for covering our backs earlier.”
“No problem, mon ami.”
Since this whole fiasco began she’d been a target, and now Desmond hadn’t even winked at her. What was up with that? But she’d been right about the man and his voodoo eyes.
Isaiah cut her off her thoughts. “Marie Laveaux is the immortal voodoo queen. I am her descendant.” The man had an odd distant look in his eyes, but the woman dipped her chin as if accepting the extraordinary praise, so Lisette replied, “It’s a pleasure.”
“…and Giselle is queen of the gypsies in our parish.”
Queen of the gypsies? No wonder she’d been so annoyed.
“Oh, I-I’m honored.” Lisette may have been a little arrogant when she demanded to see the person in charge. “Sorry we got off on the wrong—”
The woman raised a hand. “No need to explain. I saw your future in the cards after you left. It’s why I’m here. To help you—to help us all.”
Suddenly, the gypsy with the attitude adjustment seemed quite taken with her. Giselle went directly to the couch patting the seat beside her. “Come. We’ll sit and I’ll read the cards while Marie empties her bag of tricks.”
Lisette took a seat and asked quietly, “What’s in Marie’s bag?”
“Who knows?” Giselle shrugged and waved off the question. “Everything from chicken feet to love potions I suspect. She never goes anywhere without it.”
Desmond continued to i
gnore Lisette but asked Michael where Isaiah and Marie should set up. She figured the man’s distant attitude stemmed from respect for the newly formed connection between her and Michael, so she brushed off her initial concern.
Michael turned to the gypsy. “Do you need anything Giselle?”
“A bit of ambiance wouldn’t hurt.” The wry grin made the witchy gypsy seem less intimidating.
Desmond said, “I’ll keep watch out here.” The big man by the foyer nodded and folded his arms across his chest.
Michael led Isaiah and Marie down the hall. On the way out, he snapped his fingers and the lights dimmed, the candles surrounding the room, sprang to light, and then a strange fragrant scent filled the air. Immediately, the effect relaxed Lisette as if she’d just polished off a big glass of wine.
Giselle whipped out the Tarot cards, colorfully illustrated with Celtic symbols and designs, and different from any Lisette had ever seen. The gypsy told her to pick a card from the ones she had fanned out on the table.
“Good choice. This is the symbol you’ll have tattooed over your witch’s mark.” She put the card aside.
“How do you…?” When Giselle raised her eyebrows, Lisette didn’t bother to finish her question. Of course, they all knew. It was why they’d been brought here.
Lisette glanced at Desmond who continued to ignore the women, his mind elsewhere.
Giselle began flipping cards, pointed to them and said, “Pick one.”
She followed the woman’s instructions. The scent in the room grew more pleasant by the minute.
“Your heritage destines you to Michael, even though a dark magic would prevent it.”
“I don’t want him destined to me. I want him to want me for me.” Lisette lowered her voice. She didn’t want Desmond to hear how insecure she sounded.
“Ah, I understand, cher. Don’t you feel it? His love and devotion have been for you all along.”
“Yeah, well, no. Michael managed to hide those alleged feelings.”
“Tsk, tsk.” Giselle flipped another card. “Nevertheless, you must accept him. Tonight. You cannot wait until the ceremony tomorrow. Your lives are in danger. Here. Now.” She tapped a card with her long fingernail.
Hauntings in the Garden, Volume One Page 4
