He had located his target again. The woman had left New York and found a nest of American relatives in southern New Jersey. The task of taking the witch home was going to be a bit trickier. The woman remained under the curse his healer had placed on her, still unable to use her powers, but she was smarter than he’d given her credit for.
“Tupa Shmara,” he cursed. Woman witches.
The world would be better if they could keep them strapped to a gurney with their legs open wide, ready to take in sperm, and spit out babies. As he pictured that pleasant thought, he opened his computer and began to check the progress of the rest of his plan.
Most of his young drug mules were in Europe being prepped for a wonderful trip to the US, courtesy of a small Baptist church in Pennsylvania. Do-gooders! Ha! Ivar chuckled. How horrified would those little old women and milk-toast men be to know he’d stuffed those Afghani girls full of grade ‘A’ heroin?
He made a mental note to tell the girls again what would happen to their families if they tried to speak a word to anyone. After their very holy retreat, he would decide which ones to sell as prostitutes, and which to use again. It was all a matter of profitability and that’s what kept his clan alive.
Some of the poppy growers in Afghanistan were quite desperate when he’d called in their debts. Was it his fault the farmers had let the Americans burn their fields? They were lucky that his clan had allowed them to pay their debt with daughters instead of death.
“Uncle Ivar?” A girl stood by the door holding a tray of food. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, making her look younger than her thirteen years.
He needed to find a buyer for that one before his cousin found out. He’d no idea how she happened into the group of mules, nor did he care. He was not one to check the teeth of a horse that fate had bestowed upon him.
“Erina, come in.” Ivar stopped what he was doing and spoke to the girl in her native tongue, ushering her forward. He took the food, then patted her on the head. She gave him a dimpled smile before scurrying off in the direction she came from.
Ignorant fool, he thought, shoving a kalduny in his mouth and turning back to the computer.
But why would she not trust him? Hadn’t he fed her well, and given her new American jeans to wear? Soon her body would be full and ripe for the taking, and he would find a needy witch to take her off his hands. If he could be patient, he might wait for a few years, until she reached puberty, to see what level power she possessed.
Ivar picked up his phone and dialed the New Jersey number. It was pure luck that he had contacts so close to where his target had taken up residence. He could, as the Americans say, kill two birds with one stone.
“Are you ready to take on our product?” Ivar said, when the snotty-wanna-be-drug-dealer answered.
“We can take whatever you can deliver. We have a pipeline in place–”
Ivar cut him off before the cursed little idiot could say more. “Phones are insecure. Mouth shut. Look for me. I am coming.”
He laughed as another plan began to take shape in his head.
Chapter 5
Present day
Jack turned the corner and met Stan and Luke at the ocean’s edge. He tried to dispel his anger. After all, he had finally found his match. It was only a matter of time before she was his.
As soon as the solstice was over, he’d make nice. Take her to the movies. Dinner. Together they’d work on her training. Maybe by next year she’d be ready. Better that, than the bleak future he’d envisioned before tonight.
Damn that he’d said the oath, though. Waiting for solstice to end was going to be hell on wheels. What was he thinking? He wasn’t acting much better than Luke in that regard. Like the itch of poison ivy, the urge to mate was driving him mad. God help him. He might need to be handcuffed before week’s end.
Although numbed by Olivia’s tea, the nasty headache lingered. Jack got in Stan’s car and they took Luke home.
Luke’s parents doled out a litany of punishments at a decibel level that was probably illegal in the quiet beach community.
Jack winced when a couple of the points they spouted hit home. Something about never giving the oath to an unknown witch. Taking your time. Acting like an adult. Crap.
“They’re laying it on pretty thick,” Stan said, when they were back in the car.
“Better than getting arrested. She was only fifteen.” Jack’s voice came out more irritated than he meant.
“Luke didn’t know that. You saw her. She looked a lot older. They should’ve carded her at the bar. ”
“What was Luke doing there in the first place? Drinking age is twenty-one in this state.” Better to grouch at his cousin than continue to think about the healer with the big brown eyes. She was probably asleep by now, maybe even naked, with that mass of hair all tangled around her head.
“And we never did anything like that when we were his age?” Stan said with a smirk.
“That’s different.” The corner of Jack’s mouth twitched but he managed not to smile.
“Right. We were perfect.” Stan rolled his eyes and pulled out of the parking lot. “So, what happened back there? You didn’t try anything with Olivia?”
“God, no. She’s like my sister, and a healer to boot.” He shrugged and looked out the window. “There’s nothing worth recounting. Find a bar that’s still open. I’m buying and I intend to tie one on until I can’t feel anything.”
Stan chuckled in approval and sped off towards their destination.
Jack adjusted himself and squirmed uncomfortably. He was still fucking hard. The woman’s essence lingered on his clothes, her scent more intoxicating than Absinthe. Shit, he was so screwed. He called his brother, Josh, and told him to meet them at the small Irish pub.
The drinks numbed the migraine, but at the same time, it intensified his lascivious thoughts. He couldn’t get the raven-haired witch out of his head. Who was she? How the hell was he going to convince her that she was the one? Especially if she wasn’t trained.
The look of fear on her face when he’d slammed his fist into the wall stayed with him. Shit. I’m such an ass. He’d be lucky if she ever spoke to him again.
Stan and Josh watched him closely from across the table.
“What’s going on with you?” Josh asked. “You never drink like this, especially not during solstice.”
Jack shrugged, lifted his half-empty glass, and motioned to the bartender for another round.
“I think you’ve had enough.” Josh pulled the glass out of his hand and shook his head at the bartender. “Let’s get you home. My place is only a couple blocks from here. We can walk.”
Stan leaned on Josh as they staggered out of the bar and onto the street. He groaned, “I’m going to feel like shit in the morning.”
Josh laughed. “Serves you right.”
“Shit.” Stan stopped abruptly, grabbed Jack by the shirt, and stared down the street. Clouds of fog cleared for a moment and dark shadows appeared. “That’s my brother, Kyle, isn’t it?”
Jack tried to focus his drunken brain on the gang of swaggering young men.
“Look. It’s our fucking leader, all fucked up.” Kyle laughed, and his tattooed gang followed suit as if it was the funniest joke they’d ever heard. “Someone get you in the gut tonight? I heard you had to find a healer for a baby-boy hit. Time you retired, old man.”
Jack’s chest tightened and his insides went cold. That poisonous blast had come from Kyle? He shook his head. No way. It wasn’t in the nature of the cowardly drug addict to fight for leadership. What had changed in the equation? Holy Goddess. He should never drink like this. Couldn’t connect the dots. Jack started to raise his hand to blast the little twerp into oblivion but Josh caught his hand.
“What do you want?” Josh moved forward.
“I wanted Jack to meet my, mate.” Kyle grabbed a girl’s ass with one hand, her tits with the other, and kissed her roughly. He hung his arm over her shoulder and smirked. “S
he augments me. Perfectly.”
Bloody hell. The little shit was serious. Jack glanced at the girl. She didn’t look old enough to drive, let alone be someone’s mate.
Jack didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t Iesco, so where the hell had she come from?
“Things are going to change around here.” Kyle pointed at Jack and laughed. “I’m going to kill you. You’re lucky you’re too drunk and your family is with you, or I’d take the clan from you right now. C’mon, let’s get out of here. The stench of old people is depressing.”
Josh removed his hand from Jack’s shoulder when the gang turned back the way they came.
“And here I thought I’d already had the worst fuckin’ day of my life.” Jack sighed, his brain amazingly sober.
Stan seemed a lot more sober, too. “You think he meant it, I mean about the girl being a match? If so, he could have a real go at you.”
“I have no idea. It’s possible. I didn’t recognize that blast that hit me. I would’ve recognized Kyle’s energy unless it’s changed. We’ve fought often enough. If Kyle found a perfect match…” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “We’re screwed.”
“He’s what? Nineteen?” Josh shook his head. “Finding a perfect mate already? Highly unlikely. Besides, he’s so drugged up all the time, how would he even know?”
Stan smacked Jack on the back. “Whatever happens, you’ve got my support.”
Jack didn’t voice his doubts. “You know how it goes. If he calls me out for leadership, it’s just us, one-on-one.”
“You always win.” Josh kicked a stone on the pavement.
“I’ve never had a serious challenger. If that was his new power that zapped me”–he shook his head–“I’m a dead man. You might want to think about getting your families out of town. Our clan may be shifting back to darker ways.”
“I could shoot him for you.” Josh tilted his head as if he was considering the option.
Jack almost laughed. That was one way to deal with the little bastard. If it didn’t go against clan rules, he might take his brother up on his offer.
“Isn’t there anyone else, even remotely related in the clan who could beat him in a duel?”
“Shit, Josh. I just don’t know. You and Jase are the next most powerful. Either one of you ready to take him on?” Jack wished he could take the words back, but really? A man could endure only so much pressure, especially while inebriated.
Both Stan and Josh grimaced and walked the rest of the distance in silence.
When they reached the door to Josh’s house, Jack said in a more conciliatory tone, “Let’s sleep on it guys. Maybe we can think of something in the morning.”
Jack already knew what he had to do. He fumbled for his cell phone and called the familiar number.
*
Zoe had just fallen asleep when Olivia’s phone rang. She glanced at the clock and cursed into her pillow. It was three in the morning and she’d only been asleep for a couple of hours.
Through the thin walls, she heard Olivia’s side of the conversation.
“Shit, twice in one night, Jack? Where are you? I’ll be right down.” Olivia let out an exasperated breath. “Then why the hell are you calling me at this fucking hour if you’re not almost dead?”
Silence.
“…Shit, was she really that right for you?”
Zoe wished she could hear the answer to that question.
“…She’s my friend, Jack, and some kind of remote cousin. She already has some serious emotional issues from childhood. I really don’t want her to get hurt.”
Wow. That was way too personal. Emotional issues? Zoe was going to give Olivia a piece of her mind in the morning. Her cousin made her sound like some kind of basket case. For all the crap she’d gone through as a kid, Zoe figured she was pretty fucking normal. At least she wasn’t making shit up about witches and solstice.
Maybe it was time to pack up and go back to New York. Screw these guys.
She missed some of what was said next because Olivia had taken her voice down yet another notch.
“…And I will collect. I mean it. Don’t mess with her. Ah huh. I know. G’night.”
As soon as Olivia settled down, Zoe reached for her phone and whispered, “Call Nan.”
The phone rang with that odd international ring, and then she heard Nan’s voice. “Hey. What’re you doing up so late?”
“You got a minute?”
“Sure, just a sec. Getting ready for work. London office expects me there by nine, but it’s just a short walk. So what’s up?”
“Are you sitting?”
“No…but I can put the seat of the john down.”
“Do it.”
A clatter was followed by a chuckle. “Okay, I’m sitting.”
“I think I’m a witch.” Even as it came out of Zoe’s mouth, the words sounded downright insane.
There was a silence, which might just have been the connection, then a little giggle. “Not always. Just when you’re PMS-ing and even then–”
“Not bitch. I said witch.” Zoe tried to keep her voice to a hiss.
“Which one? Glinda or the wicked one?” Nan laughed so hysterically the phone distorted.
“Stop. This isn’t funny. I’m not joking.”
Her tone changed and the laughing stopped. “You’re serious? What kind of shit were you into tonight? We’ve talked about the hard stuff–”
“Nothing. I promise. There’s some weird shit going on here. And tonight something happened…”
Nan’s voice grew tighter. “What’s going on with you?”
Zoe tried to explain, but on the re-telling, it sounded even more surreal than when it happened. How does one explain the impossible?
“Listen. I know you’re staying with your cousin who really believes she is a witch, and don’t get mad, but you’re in a vulnerable place right now.”
“I’m not vulnerable. I hate it when you say that.” Zoe sat up and stared out the window. The fog had lifted, the half-moon was bright, and the beach sand glistened like snow.
“Okay, let me put it this way. You’re dealing with being abused as a kid. Something you’ve kept secret for years. Psychology books say it’s a bad place to be. You’ll give me that much?”
“Yeah. Sure. I guess.” Zoe lay on her back, threw the pillow over her face, and wished she could suffocate herself.
“So, cults go after people like you. They smell it.”
She removed the pillow so she could talk. “This is so not a cult.”
“Did Olivia take you to a religious ceremony?”
Zoe moaned, turned onto her stomach, and sunk her face back into the pillow. She turned and said, “A celebration of the start of Solstice.”
“Uh huh…and?
“Oh for crying out loud. I did not get indoctrinated.” She almost forgot to keep her voice down.
Nan didn’t. “What am I supposed to think? That you really can conjure up a vortex of purple energy or rather that you had a serious dose of hallucinogens? Don’t eat anything else they offer you. Better yet. Go home.”
“I can’t. Remember stalker guy? Listen. I appreciate the advice. I’ll be careful. And Nan?
“What?”
“Thanks.”
“What are best friends for? Just one more thing.”
“Sure.”
“What’s this guy’s name?”
“Jack.”
“Last?”
“Fia-something. I can’t remember.”
“Get it for me. I mean it.”
Zoe promised she would and hung up the phone. She stared up at the ceiling and sighed. What was she supposed to do? Nan was right, any sane person would hightail it out of there first thing in the morning.
Her thoughts drifted to Jack. There was no denying there was something between them. He’d touched her, and for the first time she could remember, she hadn’t drawn back at the physical contact. In fact, she’d actually liked it–craved it. The ache in her chest th
at never seemed to disappear, had for the briefest moment, dissipated.
Maybe she should give the man a chance.
No. She wasn’t that insane.
Chapter 6
Jack wandered onto the height of the beach dune and sat down on a town bench. He sipped his coffee and let the morning breeze clear his hangover while the ocean churned. The sun burned through the haze, in promise of a beautiful day.
The lone figure by the ocean’s edge cast long blue shadows on the sand. Tiny running shorts and an exercise bra left little to the imagination. She stretched her perfectly toned figure into impossible poses that he surmised must be yoga.
Which of those positions would she take to his bed?
Palms to her chest, she bowed to the sun, and then turned to run barefoot down the beach. A dark ponytail bounced behind her until it faded into the mist.
He picked up his cell phone and dialed his personal assistant. He braced for the assault and she didn’t disappoint.
“My God, Jack. It isn’t even seven yet. I thought you were taking a few days off. I was counting on a few hours of peace and–”
“Good morning to you, too.” He smiled when he heard her huff on the other end. “I just have a couple things for you to take care of. First, did our guys find out anything on Zoe Burton?”
“Security put everything up on your FTP site. You can download at will.”
“Thank you. Next. Are you listening carefully? Enact Plan Juno.”
There was dead silence on the line, then a deep intake of breath. “Come again?”
“Everything you need is in that file. Most of the money transfers are set up to be automatic. Call our lawyers.”
“But, Jack. We’ve got promises outstanding. Doctors without Borders, Big Brothers, Red Cross.” Her voice rose a couple of octaves as she spoke. “We can’t just pull the plug on all those people.”
“Everything Janice. Make it safe. Now.”
“What kind of danger are you in?”
“There’s a challenger.” Acid burned in his empty stomach, enhanced by worry and last night’s booze. “I need to make sure that he doesn’t get wind of the true value of our clan’s assets.”
Dark Vortex: Mated by Magic Page 3
