Wytchcraft: A Matilda Kavanagh Novel

by Shauna Granger

  I turned, shifting under the covers, to face him, pressing my forehead to his. Even in the half-light, I could see his cheeks were fuller, the pinched skin around his eyes smoother. He had fed, and I hadn’t even heard the door. I traced his face with my eyes, stalling on his full, red lips, stained with a stranger’s blood where once my blood had given him that flush.

  He brushed my cheek with the back of his hand, tracing a line down my chin, lifting it. Our lips met, parted, breathing each other. His kiss was light, tentative, expecting me to push him away. My fingers found his neck, slipping around to tangle in his hair, remembering the silky feel of it. He whispered my name and I swallowed it, pressing my lips to his again, harder this time, hungrier, giving over to the need to taste him again.

  I felt the prick of a sharp fang nick my lip, flavoring our kiss with my blood. It was so familiar, so comforting it made my head swim with memories. His arms pulled me closer, pressing my body to his, and I realized the only thing separating us was my shirt and the pants he still wore. I closed my eyes, a tear spilling over, running down my cheek and slipping between our lips as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  Time didn’t exist for us then. The world was lost in lips and hips and the bite of our hunger as we filled each other. Blood and love blossoming between us again, as if we’d never missed a beat. I clawed at his pants as he ripped my shirt. Wrapping my legs around him, I had a moment to breathe before he rocked forward and filled me. We both cried out for the other, nails raking a path of passion and need in pale skin before the day slipped away in a whirlwind that stole my breath.

  Hours later, I woke in a tangle of sheets and limbs. My legs were twisted with Owen’s and my cheek was resting on his chest. My heart thudded against my chest as relief washed through me and I admitted to myself what I’d been afraid to think earlier as I clung to him with his fangs buried in my shoulder as he drank from me again. I had expected to wake up alone again. But he was there, his arm around me, asleep and dead to the world.

  I traced a pattern on his chest with my fingers, reveling in the warmth of his body, knowing it was my blood in him giving him that warmth. It was a strange intimacy knowing that your blood gave life to another.

  Owen shifted in his sleep. A small noise of contentment rumbled low in his chest. I smiled, remembering that sound, not realizing how much I had missed it.

  “Hey, girl,” he whispered, drawing my attention away from his chest to look him in the face. He was smiling down at me. I felt a renewed heat flush my cheeks and I buried my face in his chest again to hide it.

  “No, let me see your face,” he said, reaching with his hand to lift my face by the chin. He pressed his lips to my forehead. I closed my eyes, trying to memorize the feel and shape of his lips on my skin. “Hungry?” he asked, and almost as if his question had caused it, I felt a small ache in my stomach.

  “Actually,” I said and nodded. He smirked a little and winked at me before he slipped out of bed, grabbing his jeans and slipping them on, cutting off my view of those long, lean thigh muscles.

  “Nutella and peanut butter on wheat, right?” he asked over his shoulder. It was the same thing I always craved after one of our love making sessions if he’d taken enough blood to make me hungry, which was pretty much every time.

  “Right,” I said, sitting up in bed, holding the sheet to my chest as I pushed my tangled hair out of my face. He smiled at me again before walking out of the bedroom. I scrambled out of bed, found my discarded shirt across the room, and pulled it on, finger-combing my hair as I hurried after him.

  The apartment went sideways for a moment, and I had to brace myself on the doorframe until it righted itself again.

  “Slow down, girl,” Owen said with a chuckle. “You forget you need to be careful after donating?” Donating had been our inside joke about him drinking my blood. The sandwich, calling me girl, the inside joke; Owen was slipping into old habits so easy it made me a little nervous.

  When I felt steady enough, I pushed out of the doorway and joined him in the kitchen. Artie padded after me, jumping onto the kitchen table to keep an eye on us. Owen had the bread and out and was spooning out a heaping amount of the chocolaty goodness, remembering I liked more of that than the peanut butter on my sandwiches.

  He cut the sandwich diagonally and set it on a plate, bringing it over to me with a glass of milk. Before I could sit down, he grabbed me by the waist and spun me around until he was sitting in the chair and I was in his lap, fitting perfectly. It surprised a giggle out of me, which was mortifying.

  I groaned and shook my head, hiding my face in my hands. Owen chuckled and picked up one half of the sandwich and waved it in front of my face so that the tempting aroma of chocolate and peanut butter overwhelmed my embarrassment. I took the half from him and took a bite, a very large, unladylike bite.

  I was starting in on the second half when the air in the apartment shifted, and it was suddenly harder to breathe. Artemis hissed and jumped to all fours, his back arching as his fur stood on end. Owen went eerily still under me.

  “Well, isn’t this just precious,” Theo hissed as smoke filled the apartment, swirling into a mass, forming slowly until she stood in the center of the apartment. We had been living on borrowed time.

  “I see you’ve found my pet,” Theo said, narrowing her bright blue eyes at me. She looked almost identical to how she had looked the last time she’d snuck into my home: a gown of shadows drifting around her lithe body, her golden blond curls tumbling behind her bare shoulders. But her eyes were alive and wild with hate. I could see my death in those eyes.

  “He is not your pet,” I said, dropping the uneaten sandwich and laying my hands on Owen’s wrists.

  “Oh, but he is,” she said. “Isn’t that right, Owen?” Theo snapped her fingers and Owen jerked under me, making a sound of pain.

  “Yes, mistress,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Theo, don’t do this,” I said, realizing that Owen was fighting the compulsion to go to Theo, away from me. Before I would have refused to ask Theo for anything, but not now; not after I had come so close to death and had been reminded about how much I used to love this man. With a little time, we might’ve found a happy life together.

  “I haven’t done anything,” Theo said, snapping her fingers again, making Owen jump. His fingers dug into my thighs as he fought to stay with me. “You’re the one playing this game. You know he belongs to me. Why you insist on breaking your heart over and over again is beyond me.”

  “Owen.” I shifted to face him and saw the trickle of blood on his chin from the corner of his mouth. His teeth were grinding together and his fangs had descended so that they pierced the inside of his mouth. The light in his eyes glowed bright yellow, but I could see the strain around his eyes. I couldn’t begin to understand the pain he was suffering.

  “Owen,” Theo said, her voice echoing with power so that even I felt it reverberating in my bones. It was enough finally that Owen slid me off of his lap, as gently as he could manage, and he stood to go to his master.

  “Mattie, I’m so sorry,” Owen said, his voice strangled and almost unrecognizable.

  “Don’t do this,” I said, turning to Theo, holding my hands out to her, begging. “Don’t you care about his happiness?”

  Theo spun to face me, her gown floating around her. She was in front of me in the blink of an eye, her face nearly touching mine as she bared her fangs, growling at me. “Of course I do,” she spat. “I care more about his happiness than you ever will. You are mortal, you insignificant little thing. You want to keep him so that he can watch you grow old and die eventually? With me, he will never face such a hard fate. Who then loves him more?”

  The power in her eyes snapped and, for one, small moment, I could feel her trying to push me with that power. My voice caught in my throat, my mouth opening, but the words failing me. Witches lived for over a hundred years, but she was right; I would eventually die, unlike her.

  �
��You will leave him alone,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. “He belongs to me.” She spun around and reached for Owen, who was quick to come to her now that she’d regained her control over him. Their fingers intertwined, hers smaller than his, making my fingers twitch.

  “Owen,” my voice broke but I had to try. “Owen, don’t let her do this. You said you loved me.” I saw him flinch as my words reached him but he didn’t fight her compulsion. “Owen, please, fight her. You said you loved me, fight her dammit!” I cried out and Theo watched us both, she didn’t seem to be holding him back, her fingers weren’t tight around his, but still, Owen didn’t come to me. “You can’t even fight her for me.” It was a mean thing to say, but it was true. This was why I had sent him away before and why I should have never let him in my bed again.

  I couldn’t look at him, but something inside of me broke, a pain blossoming in my chest as the air shifted again just before their hands faded from my sight and I was left alone in my apartment.

  I sank to the floor. Artie jumped from the table, rushing to stand on my lap. He arched his back and pressed his forehead against my face, rubbing his fur against my cheek.

  “Mrrrow?” Artemis purred after we were sitting on the floor long enough for the sun to set, casting the apartment in long, dark shadows.

  I nodded, running my fingers through his fur. “I think you’re right, Artie. I think it’s time to ward the place against that bitch.”

  Theo said I was constantly breaking my heart and maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to really let Owen go this time. He’d been able to break her compulsions before but couldn’t – wouldn’t – do it this time. Why the hell was I breaking my heart for that damn vampire again?

  “Mrrrow,” Artie said again, kneading his paws on my chest.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” I said, “If I ever see that vampire woman again, I’ll make her sorry. I’ll make her very, very sorry.”

  Acknowledgements

  Sometimes it feels as though I am repeating myself a lot when it comes to this section, but the fact of the matter is, I’m very lucky to have built a team around myself that helps me produce my books so I tend to thank the same people again and again. But that makes me feel so lucky I can’t properly express it.

  To my husband, thank you for being my sounding board. You have no idea how much just talking to you about my stories helps me figure them out. I don’t think I could write as much as I do if it weren’t for our late night conversations in the kitchen.

  To my mom, I dedicated this first book in this series to you because you gave me my first Urban Fantasy novel – The Diana Tregarde series by Mercedes Lackey – when I was a teenager. Many books stay with us, but that series burned its way into my mind, it spoke to me like no other, because that was the kind of story I grew up wanting to write. Diana Tregarde is the heroine I wanted to write. Thank you for setting me on this path. I love you.

  To my editor, Cassie Cox, who has been with me from my very first book. Thank you for sticking with me and lending me your skills. You are the bestest.

  To my beta readers, S.K. Falls, Claudia Lefeve, and Kristin McFarland, thank you for reading the painfully early pages of this book. Your help and enthusiasm was invaluable.

  To Drew Buschhorn, thank you for all your help with the Latin stuffs. All mistakes/changes are mine and are not Drew’s fault, he really did try to get me to use the proper forms and words.

  And to you, for reading this and any other book I may write. You’re my favorite.

  About the Author

  Shauna lives in Southern California with her husband and two dogs and she is still writing, fueled by coffee and plot bunnies. Having already started on the next, magical adventure, Shauna is working furiously on the third book in this series. Watch out for the second book, Samhain, coming in September 2014! You can follow Shauna on her website, shaunagranger.com, for more information on her upcoming projects.

  Table of Contents

  Wytchcraft

  Title

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Acknowledgements