by Fawn Lowery
“Tsk, Tsk, aren’t we the jealous witch?”
A lightening bolt suddenly smashed into the wall over Ronna’s head. A shower of red-orange sparks cascaded down from the ceiling, falling around Ronna’s body.
“I will make you wish you had never interfered.”
“It’s too late now. I’m here and I’m not leaving.” She felt her nerves quiver at the statement.
“Then you shall die.”
Drucella raised her arm and a fiery red blaze shot from her hand, narrowly missing Ronna as she lunged out of the way. Another blast shot near her head and she ducked beneath the table for cover. A loud witch’s cackle sounded in the room seconds before she delivered another fiery blast toward Ronna.
Ronna crawled beneath the table and poked her head out the other side, gauging the nearness of Drucella. Taking careful aim, she conjured up a spell to make her suddenly quite ill.
Drucella wretched and doubled over, grasping her stomach with both hands. Blood-red vomit spewed from her mouth.
Ronna crawled from beneath the table, a feeling of victory welling up inside her. It would be increasingly difficult for Drucella to hurl any more fiery cannons at her when she was too sick to stand up straight. She eyed the witch, intensifying the spell. She kept her distance, seeing the mess she was making on the stone floor. She was still dangerous, regardless of how long she commanded the spell to last.
“You only have…tiny spells…in defense…of my…powers.” She vomited again, clutching her belly and making terrible retching noises. “Yet you wear…the amulet… around your neck.”
CHAPTER 8
Ronna could barely understand the witch’s words since she was spewing vomit like a volcano. She inched her way around her, opening the door of the room to the outside.
“Get out. And don’t bother to come around again.”
The order issued, she stood at the door waiting for Drucella to leave.
Drucella raised bleary eyes and locked gazes with Ronna. Hate showed in the emerald green depths. Her face contorted, she grasped her belly, and more vomit jumped from her mouth. She swiped one hand across her mouth, her lips twisted in hate.
“I will not let this pass. I will return to Morganford Manor and—“
“And I’ll work on honing my spells in your absence! Now get the hell out!”
Ronna waved one hand at Drucella and ordered up a fierce wind. It caught hold of her dress and whipped it about her body before lifting her off the floor and spinning her through the open door.
“I’ll be back!”
Her words died on the wind as Ronna watched her body sailing across the courtyard and away from Morganford. She slammed the door and leaned her back against it, her breathing rapid as she took all that had happened in to account. Tears suddenly sprang to her eyes and she slid against the door to settle on the floor.
“How will I ever get out of this?”
Her shoulders shook as she released the anguish in the form of tears. She covered her face with her hands and cried until she felt breathless. Calmed, somewhat, she sat against the door and looked round the empty room. When the wind swept Drucella away, it took all semblance of her having been there as well. The vomit she had heaved on the floor had disappeared—the eerie feeling accompanying her presence had left. It was the same dank dreary room she had first seen last night and made love to Marcus in the early hours of morning before he had to leave her.
“It could use a bit of decorating.”
She laughed out loud.
Getting to her feet, she took survey of the room. It was large and had potential. She envisioned a three cushioned couch in rustic tones of amber and mauve, against one wall, a grouping of three over-stuffed chairs positioned near the fireplace, a dinette set in dark mahogany with chairs for twelve, lamps, dark wooden tables, a decorative vase appropriately placed—
She waved one hand and the furnishings appeared. She stood marveling at her handiwork, a small smile of satisfaction on her face. Marcus would love it when he came again.
The ugly reality of her situation suddenly returned with alarming haste. She let out a sigh and sank onto the couch against the wall. Absently, she trailed her fingers down the gold chain to the amulet nestled between her breasts. She felt its weight in her palm, fingered its multiple cut facets.
Suddenly she remembered that, between bouts of puking, Drucella had made some remark about the amulet. She tried to recall her exact words. She had said something in regards to her powers—or lack of.
She raised the amber jewel and stared at it.
“What is this thing?”
She sat quietly and waited for an answer to come—from anywhere. Minutes passed and she had received no sign—either magically or human manifested. She released the amulet to settle into its familiar spot between her tits and got on with her decorating. The bed upstairs could certainly use replacing. She levered herself off the couch and headed up the stairs.
* * * *
Ronna.
She felt Marcus call her name. She froze, her hand reaching upward to clutch the amber amulet suspended about her neck.
Ronna. I will come to you soon.
She had thought about him and the situation involving Drucella and his brothers until her head hurt. She had no idea where to start to find Marcus' brothers. And if they were somehow fortunate enough to stumble across them, she doubted whether she could actually awaken them. Surely her finding Marcus in the suit of armor and touching his genitals was a mere coincidence.
Do not doubt your powers, my sweet.
Stop talking to me like this. It scares me.
She levered herself off the couch she had conjured up and crossed the room to the fireplace. While she was in the mode of decorating the old building, she should have installed central heating and air conditioning. She grimaced and shook her head. God forbid she was there long enough to enjoy the fruits of her handiwork. She wanted to go home and wipe all memories of this episode from her mind.
She felt his presence suddenly, bold, intimidating…sensual.
She whirled around finding him crossing the room toward her. A stern look wreathed his handsome face and for an instant, Ronna’s breath hitched in her throat. His masculinity was filling her senses with total abandon. She raised one hand to her shirt and began opening the buttons.
He paused in his steps toward her, his dark eyes boring into her face as she stripped away the blouse from her upper body. His gaze lowered to encompass her breasts, heaving with her rapid intake of breath.
His gaze burned her skin. She bit her bottom lip. Her fingers lowered to release the snap on her jeans. Had she no control? Was she destined to be under the overwhelming powers of this man of the night?
He beckoned to her and she seemed to glide across the floor to where he stood. He let the smile clinging to his mouth spread across his lips. He reached out one hand and clasped her nape, curling his long fingers behind her head. He drew her forward, bringing her against his chest.
“Marcus—“
He tipped his head and nuzzled her throat, sending a chilling sensation across her skin.
“Stop, Marcus. I need to talk to you.”
He kissed the arch of her throat, tipping her head to the side so his lips could work up the silky incline to her jaw. He nibbled softly, the tip of his tongue tasting her flesh as he worked his way to her lips. He settled his mouth over hers, pressing firmly as he drew her tightly against his chest.
Ronna felt her knees go limp as his mouth took possession of hers. She moaned and closed her eyes as she settled comfortably against the rigid firmness of his broad chest. She inhaled the fragrance of him, the earthy aroma clinging to his clothes and skin. His long hair was unbound and brushed across his shoulders, fanning against her cheek as he kissed her.
Her fingers halted on the zipper of her jeans as he pressed her body into the long length of his. Thoughts of having sex with him flooded her mind as her body began to heat up. Her heartbeat increased, ha
mmering against her ribcage in a wild tattoo. Her crotch felt the first release of pre-sex moisture, dampening her bikini panty. Her nipples drew into tight little nubs that awaited his touch.
She tried to focus her mind—tried to deny her body the pleasures his attentions promised. She needed to talk to him—to tell him of Drucella’s visit and—
He drew her down on the couch she had conjured up and pressed her back against the cushions. He settled his big body atop her as he continued to kiss her lips. His tongue pushed inside her mouth, teasing her tongue and flicking across her gum.
Suddenly a slight high-pitched sound penetrated Ronna’s brain, urging her to open her eyes. Her lashes fluttered, dipped to her cheek before drawing wide open. Hovering just above her head, perched amidst a glowing ring of fire sat a tiny being.
Ronna shrieked and lurched forward, pushing against the solid wall of Marcus' body as she tried to warn him that they had a visitor. Marcus was on his feet so quickly Ronna almost fell off the couch as her hurried movements lunged her body forward to a sitting position. She swiveled her head, trying to make Marcus aware of the presence in their midst, and found she had lost sight of the tiny apparition.
“It was right there.” She pointed a hand toward the end of the room. “I saw a tiny figure sitting inside a ball of fire.” She searched the room for the object.
Marcus combed one hand through his hair. “It was Tiana. Drucella sent her fairy to scare you, Ronna. Have no fear. She is gone, carrying her message back to the witch.”
“Tiana? Drucella’s fairy?”
Ronna scrambled off the couch. The room felt icy suddenly. She found her shirt on the floor and pulled it on. Turning to Marcus, she pinned him with a warning stare.
“Drucella has a fairy?” She shook her head. “Drucella is no ordinary witch, Marcus.” She crossed the room to him. Placing her hands on his chest, she gazed up at him with imploring eyes. “Please, tell me what is going on.”
He took hold of her shoulders. “It is said that Drucella has legion with the dark prince. Tiana is his servant and does his bidding whenever Drucella summons his powers.”
“The dark prince?” She took a step back, her eyes growing wide. “The devil?”
“It’s all in the book, Ronna. I thought perhaps you could unlock the mystery of her powers.”
“The devil?” She couldn’t believe her own ears. She had read about witches being accused of having powers granted by the devil but she had never believed it. She felt shaken by the news. “Witches aren’t all bad, Marcus.” She clutched her shirt at her throat. “I’m not a bad witch.” She thought of the little tricks she had played on others, her customers, and kids at the orphanage—“I’ve never harmed anyone in my life.” For just a second the sight of Jimmy Weston chewing on that stuffed teddy bear flashed in her mind. “Aside from one tiny incident—“
“Ronna, you are a descendent of Drucella’s. Your powers are very much like hers.” He pulled her into his embrace.
“I’m so confused.” Her brows drew together. She gazed around the room, looking at all the furniture she had assembled just by wishing it to be manifested. “I have used my powers more since I met you—“
“Meeting me has nothing to do with it. You are just reaching the age when your powers are becoming stronger. You have great abilities at your command, my sweet.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Tell me all that you know, Marcus.” She felt emboldened by his words. The fear of the unknown subsided slightly, allowing her to push the dread to the far corner of her mind. She broke Marcus' embrace and led him to the couch. “Tell me because I need to know.” She swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in her throat. “Drucella came to visit me today. She threatened to kill me for waking you.”
He settled beside her, pulling her into his embrace. “I will not let any harm come to you, Ronna. I promise.” He kissed her cheek.
“But Marcus, how can you protect me if you are asleep during the day? Drucella knows of your needs. My God! She just sent her servant to snoop on us!” She remembered suddenly how she had congratulated herself with fending her off earlier in the day. She had been quite proud of rendering her arm useless and making her vomit like an erupting fountain—but had she known of the extent of her powers… She shivered in cold fear.
“I’m certain everything you need to know is in the old book.”
“But I can’t open it.”
“Perhaps when Drucella is dead—“
Ronna stared at him. Surprise wreathed her face. “If you kill her, how will you find your brothers?”
“I feel certain that my brothers are confined within her castle walls. I have scoured the countryside in search of clues, to no avail. There are no traces of my brothers in the neighboring villages. I believe she watches over them as they lie beneath her spell.”
Ronna bit her bottom lip. It would seem so simple—merely sneak into Drucella’s castle and lay a well-placed hand on each of Marcus' brothers to break the spell—but the consequences were paramount.
“My powers—“ she paused and shook her head. “I have no way of knowing what I can or can not do.” She sighed and placed one hand against his chest. “I had not thought of you as one of the living dead—until now.” Her voice was a tiny whisper.
He drew her against his chest and held her tightly. “It is the curse of being a vampire, Ronna. I am not of the living—yet I cannot die except by the stake through a heart that no longer beats with my life force.” He kissed her temple. “I am a man without emotion—until you touched me and awakened the burning desire for a mate inside me.” He pushed her to arms length and gazed down into her upturned face. “We are meant to be together and neither the powers of Drucella nor the stake of a dark hunter can change that.” He kissed her lips then inched his mouth to her throat.
Ronna felt his lips find her vein, the scrape of a sharp incisor on her skin. She bent her head, arching her throat for his bite. She felt akin to him—somehow—whether she was falling in love with him or feeling sorry for him because of the things Drucella had done to his family, she couldn’t decide.
His teeth sank into her vein and she sucked in a quick breath at the moment his teeth pierced her skin. She closed her eyes and relaxed against his body, knowing in her heart that he would not kill her.
You are my mate. You are in my soul, Ronna.
Marcus—I can offer up no power to stop you from taking my blood. Feed. For your strength will aid us both.
CHAPTER 9
Ronna chewed the bite of hamburger as she watched Marcus study the French fry he held.
“It’s a skinny triglyceride inducer.” She giggled and took another bite of her hamburger, washing it down with a slurp of malted milk.
“The food of your time is like nothing I have ever seen.”
She studied him for a moment. “Drucella cast a spell over you shortly after Darrias changed you?”
“I had been a vampire for one century when Drucella appeared in Morganford. Until that day, life was blissful. I fed at night on the people of Morganford, I slept during the day, and I had an existence that was bland. I had lost all will to do anything except exist from day to day. My brothers, however, were of a mind to travel. They left England and journeyed to Ireland and beyond. They came back to Morganford with tales of merriment and glee. They loved their existence as vampires. They liked being immortal, of never feeling the sting of death. They were anxious to experience the changing world.” He paused and heaved a heavy sigh. “Alas. If only they had known their fate when they returned to Morganford to visit me.”
Ronna finished the last bite of her hamburger and poked the last French fry into her mouth. Her strength still waned from Marcus feeding on her, but she felt better with a full stomach. She stretched out on the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table sitting before it.
“How can we get into Drucella’s castle?”
Marcus appeared to brighten immediately. His shoulders straightened, his li
ps curved into a smile, he left the chair at the table where he had been seated while she ate her fast food, and came to perch on the arm of the couch.
“We will change our appearances and infiltrate her domain while she sleeps.”
Ronna’s brows rose. “I can’t change into anything, Marcus. I can’t even shrink myself.” She stared at him, suddenly remembering that she had discovered she could levitate herself off the floor, if she concentrated really hard. “I can barely manage to get my feet off the floor—“ She paused her words, seeing the strange look he was aiming at her. “What?”
“Every witch can fly, my sweet.” He smiled widely at her.
His handsome features pulled at her heartstrings. She sucked in a quick breath, feeling the need to be in his arms again. Risking another vampire bite, she swiveled her feet round and levered herself upright. She crawled the length of the couch to where he perched on the arm. Grasping his right hand, she urged him to sit on the couch beside her.
When he was settled, she leaned across his body and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down so she could kiss him. He was an incredibly sensual man—living or not. She felt the jolt the thought brought to her insides. How could she think of him as being dead? He was vital and could turn her bones to jelly with just one glance in her direction.
She kissed him with every ounce of lust she could muster. He moaned and began tearing her clothing away, baring her body for his eager hands.
“You tempt me with your beautiful body.” He pulled his lips away just long enough to utter the whispered comment.
Her clothes fell to the floor with the speed of light. She curled her naked body around his, mewing softly in her throat. She wanted him to make love to her. She wanted to feel him thrusting into her body. She stifled a shiver of longing as his tongue pushed between her lips and his hand slid between her thighs. His fingers found her pussy and began a rhythmic stroking that soon had her straightening out her legs and opening herself up for his play.
