Fire Burn And Cauldron Bubble, A Paranormal Romance (Jolie Wilkins)

by H. P. Mallory

  “Where should I take you?” I asked, forcing my eyes on the road, my elbow still throbbing like a son of a bitch. “You need to go to the hospital.”

  “No, no hospital,” Rand mumbled, his eyes closed.

  I tried to think of an alternative to a hospital. The dentist? A vet? Yeah, no. The only other option was my house. It would have to do.

  As I drove, I repeatedly glanced at Rand, noting his wan expression and the dullness of his aura. Instead of the bright electric blue, it was more of a sky blue.

  “What’s happening to you, Rand?” I asked

  He swallowed hard, his eyes still closed. “Bella … poisoned me.”

  I thought I might choke on the bile that immediately came up my throat. “She what?”

  His breathing was belabored. “When she … turned into the lion … her claws … were poisoned.”

  The telltale signs of panic rose within my gut—a tightness accompanied with unbelievable nausea. I had no idea what to do in a poison situation—call poison control? Somehow, I figured “poisoned by a witch lioness” wasn’t in their repertoire.

  “What do I do?” I asked in hushed tone, keeping my head tilted back, lest I vomit all over him.

  “Just get me to your house … how much … farther?”

  “Maybe twenty minutes. Can you make it that far?” I wondered if I could make it that far.

  I didn’t hear a response and glanced over at him. He regarded me with a question in his eyes. “Why … are you holding your … head up like that?”

  “I feel like I’m gonna puke.”

  He dropped his gaze. “Just drive quickly.”

  I couldn’t keep thoughts of Rand dying from my mind, much though I grew furious with myself for thinking them. Now that I was inducted into this lifestyle, I couldn’t afford to lose Rand. I’m sure that sounds selfish, but sometimes you can’t help the thoughts that penetrate your head. I looked at him once more, huddled on the passenger seat. It was humbling and depressing to see such a beautiful, strong man reduced to such a trembling mess.

  “Can’t you do a spell or something to get us there?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t teletransport.”

  Dammit. Well, that just sucked. What I wouldn’t have done for a little teletransportation. Where was Captain Kirk when you needed him? Apparently, Captain Kirk wouldn’t be assisting me anytime soon, so I drove like I’ve never driven before. Usually I’m a law-abiding, decent citizen, but I drove as if the devils of hell were on my heels and for all I knew, maybe they were.

  When we reached my street, it occurred to me that Rand hadn’t said a word in over five minutes. I glanced at him and noted his vacant gaze.

  Oh … God.

  “Rand, wake up.” Terror laced my voice.

  “I’m still … here.”

  Like aloe vera gel on a sunburn, relief coursed through me. I pulled into my garage and didn’t waste time in rushing to his side and ripping the door open. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed his arms and hoisted him forward, bracing myself when he fell against my chest. I didn’t need to look down to know I was covered in his blood; I could feel the wet warmth soaking through my dress. I tried to maneuver backward and felt like I was going to fall over. It was like moving a refrigerator.

  “I need you to help me get you into the house, Rand.”

  He nodded, and if he attempted to help me, I didn’t know it. I had to all but carry him up the steps. I wasn’t sure if it was adrenalin or magic that assisted me, but I was thankful all the same. I leaned him against my front door while I fumbled with my house key. Unlocking the door with a curse, I braced myself for my load. He fell into my arms, and I dragged him into the living room. Pushing him against the sofa, he tumbled back into the cushions. His robe fell apart and the angry red gash glared at me. I gave myself kudos for not looking any lower.

  “What do I do?”

  He said nothing for a minute and seemed to be gathering all his strength. I wondered if the end were close, and the thought made me force my head toward the ceiling while I swallowed the hint of vomit in my throat. I could not allow myself to throw up.

  “You can heal … Jolie, you have to focus your powers on me … and heal me.”

  Once the nausea retired, I leaned close to him, putting my hands just above his wound and concentrated, remembering how Rand had gotten rid of my stomach ache in such a way. I closed my eyes and imagined all of my energy going to the wound to pull the poison from it. I had no idea if this was proper magic protocol, but it was the only thing I could think of, and Rand didn’t seem to be arguing, so I went with it.

  I nearly screamed when he grabbed my hand. I looked down and had a jolting vision of two people, Rand and I, in a heated embrace. His lips were hot on mine and I could distinctly feel something inside me. It took me a moment to realize it was Rand. I gasped in response, pulling away from him. In a few seconds, it was gone.

  “What is it? What did you see?” Rand asked, his voice nervous.

  “N … nothing important.”

  He swallowed, his jaw clenching. “Was it me? Am I going … to die?”

  I shook my head, realizing I’d have to get over my embarrassment. “No.” Well, here goes. “It was you and me and w … we were … having sex.”

  He didn’t seem surprised at all and just nodded as though it were to be expected. “Well, then, I suppose I’m not going to die.”

  I smiled uneasily and with my hands shaking, grabbed a throw pillow from my wingchair, lifting his head slightly while I put the pillow underneath his neck. Then I faced the ugly gash in his chest again. I lifted my hands and settled them just above the wound. Closing my eyes, I could only hope what I presumed were my fruitless efforts were actually doing something. I opened my eyes to judge if my treatment was working—it didn’t seem to be, he still looked as pale as … me.

  My gaze moved up his chest, and had the situation been different, I could’ve appreciated the valleys and mountains of his muscular landscape. Instead, I settled my gaze on his eyes. Fear in a powerful warlock’s eyes is not something you want to witness when you’re trying to revive him. If I hadn’t thought the situation perilous before, it dawned on me now.

  What of my recent vision, though? It had appeared that Rand was as healthy as healthy could be. I had to wonder if maybe it wasn’t a vision at all but some sort of weird figment of my imagination come to visit me at the worst possible time. God, this newly awakened sex-drive thing was killing me.

  “Is it working?” I asked, scared for his response.

  “I don’t know.”

  What kind of witch was I? I’d always doubted my abilities but never as much as I did now. I had no clue as to why these beings were fighting over me when it wasn’t even warranted.

  God, I was useless.

  Tears plundered down my face and splashed against Rand’s chest, but he didn’t even seem to notice. He was pale, paler than I’ve ever seen another person, and I knew this had to mean his life was slipping away.

  There was nothing I could do.

  His face was stoic, as if he were prepared for death.

  “I’m s … so sorry Rand,” I sniveled. I hated failing him, and this was the ultimate failure. “I’m so sorry I disappointed you.”

  He shook his head, and it seemed as though it was the only thing of which he was capable—maybe he was so close to death he wasn’t even able to speak. My tears increased tenfold as I continued to focus on his wound and attempted to heal it with my ineffectual hands. My tears mixed with his blood and coursed down his side, staining my coverlet beneath him.

  I couldn’t help the sob that tore at my throat as a deluge of tears bled from my eyes.

  Keep crying, Jolie.

  I wasn’t prepared for Rand’s voice in my head and it made my tears subside for a moment as I responded to him. I’m so sorry.

  Your tears, they’re healing me.

  I wiped my eyes on my arm and looked down at his wound. The color had somewhat return
ed to his skin and the blood had coagulated. I couldn’t help the smile that stole my lips. Holy crap! It was working!

  Don’t stop crying!

  His voice brought me back to reality, and I had to concentrate on making the tears resume. I couldn’t let them up now. I focused and felt as sorry for myself as I could. I thought of the injustice of the whole situation, that I’d had no choice in the matter of my future, that I was terrified of all these creatures who were now my reality, that I still thought I was going to puke, and that I’d nearly lost someone I considered a … friend.

  The tears came and I angled myself so they’d land on Rand’s wound. The torn skin began to mend itself, as if some invisible doctor were sewing it together. The angry red receded into the growing tan of his skin. A soft pink graced his lips, and his eyes got that magic charm back. And the topper—the sky blue of his aura deepened into the electric blue I’d come to know so well.

  I couldn’t help the inordinate sense of pride that washed over me as I realized I’d finally accomplished something worth accomplishing.

  When it appeared the wound had healed, I pulled away from him and allowed my tears to subside. I wiped my eyes and slumped with exhaustion. I’d been through a crap-load tonight. I felt Rand’s hand on my shoulder and tried to contain the tears that threatened to break through again.

  “You did it,” he said in a small voice. “Thank you. I knew you could.”

  “I thought I’d lost you.”

  He shook his head with a chuckle. “I wasn’t going out quite so easily.”

  I stood up and walked to my bathroom, returning with my pink terrycloth robe and handed it to Rand.

  He eyed it with raised brow. “Your pink dressing gown?”

  I laughed. “It’s all I’ve got, and your robe is stained.”

  He shrugged and looking down at himself, blinked, and he was dressed in black pants and a white shirt. I’d forgotten about the handy little thing we both possessed called magic. I dropped the pink robe on the corner of the couch, thinking it would’ve been funny to see him in it.

  “What now?” I asked.

  He looked around the room, his gaze falling to the clock atop the mantel, and he sighed. “We need to book tickets to England, put your house up for sale …”

  “Can’t it wait until morning?” He’d just escaped Death’s clutches and should be in bed with some chicken noodle soup.

  “Perhaps it can wait until tomorrow. I’m not quite feeling myself at the moment.” Yeah, I thought, big Duh to that one!

  “Why don’t you stay here tonight? You can have my bed, and I’ll take the couch.”

  He shook his head. “I’m happy to sleep on the couch.”

  “I insist,” I said and slipped my arm around his waist, helping him to his feet.

  I led him to my bedroom, seeing it for the first time—the pink bedding, the lavender and white striped walls, and the five foot, white furry monkey in the corner of the room. God, could my room scream out six-year-old girl any more?

  “Lovely primate,” Rand said with a laugh.

  “Thanks,” I muttered and noticed my cat curled atop the duvet. Shooing her away, I pulled the covers aside, helping Rand into the bed. He leaned against the headboard and looked like a giant, his feet hanging off the end of the mattress. The thought of a man, let alone Rand, in my bed was so foreign, it took me a while to even register it was real.

  He looked up at me expectantly. “Do I get a bedtime story?”

  I laughed and ignored him. “So I really am moving to England with you?”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

  “I’m hearing that a lot lately.” I took a seat next to him as I thought about the immense chore that moving would mean.

  “What if my house doesn’t sell?”

  “I’m going to … encourage the first people who see it—they’ll buy it with all the furniture and your car too.”

  Witchcraft had its plusses. “Can my cat come with me?”

  “She’s most certainly invited.”

  I nodded, pleased that Rand didn’t seem to mind animals. “And Christa?”

  I guess Christa wasn’t as invited as the cat because he took a while to consider it.

  “Does she want to come with you?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t asked her yet, but I hope she would.”

  “Very well, then she’s invited also. I want to make this as easy on you as I can, Jolie.”

  I sighed, knowing this situation was not only frustrating for me, but it had to be for him as well. “I know you are, Rand, and I appreciate it.”

  He covered my hand with his and the electric current traveled up my arm, its familiarity now like an old friend.

  “About this vision you had …”

  It took me a second to realize what he was talking about. When I did, I dropped my gaze, hating the flush that was even now claiming every inch of my body. “What about it?”

  He grinned and seemed to be enjoying my discomfort. “Was it real, or did you make it up?”

  I frowned. “If you mean did I really have the vision, yes I did. As for whether it was real … I don’t know.” But I hoped it was.

  He chuckled. “Care to describe it for me?”

  I pulled my hand from underneath his. “No, I don’t. You need your rest.”

  He laughed again, but his gaze was riveted on me. “It’s easy to make you blush, you know?”

  I lifted my eyes and found his wide smile and dimples sexy as all get out. I stood up. “You’re delirious.”

  He chuckled, and I started for the door.

  “Jolie … thank you.”

  I nodded and leaned against the doorjamb while I studied him. “You’re welcome, Rand. Thank you for … everything you did for me.”

  He seemed surprised and even a mite uncomfortable. It was pretty funny actually—when I removed myself from the situation. Here I was, a new witch, thanking a nearly dead warlock for disrupting my life and relocating me to England.

  Sometimes life is stranger than art.

  EIGHT

  As Rand, Christa, my cat, and I sat in the taxi that picked us up at Newcastle airport, I was overwhelmed with conflicted feelings. It’d been difficult for me to leave the safety of my life in Los Angeles. My mother hadn’t taken it at all well. When I’d told her, she’d burst into sobs immediately, causing me to feel like quite the unfit daughter. Of course, I hadn’t told her the whole truth. I’d just said I had a job offer in England that I couldn’t refuse. And I’d left it at that. Luckily, she hadn’t questioned me as to why England had better legal assistant positions than the States. I hadn’t quite thought that one all the way through. …

  With melancholic thoughts and homesickness already coursing through my veins, it was hard to find room for excitement. But that said, I was eager to face the next chapter of my life, even if that chapter was questionable at best. Thoughts of Bella swarmed through my head like angry wasps, but I forced them aside, figuring it would work itself out. Rand knew far more about the situation than I did, so I’d let him handle it.

  I glanced across the taxi at Christa who stared out the window, holding her stomach. Pain mixed with carsickness pierced her expression; she’d eaten too many frosted donuts and now reaped the rewards.

  I didn’t imagine I would’ve been capable of making such a life-altering change without Christa. In many ways, she was the oak to my sapling—having her with me gave me strength to confront an unknown future. And as for Christa, she’d been thrilled to finally see her dream of traveling abroad to fruition … and on someone else’s dime.

  “Ugh,” she moaned, her face was pale and beads of perspiration decorated her brow like ornaments on a Christmas tree.

  Rand sent an amused glance my way, then turned to face Christa. He slipped his arms around her waist and pressed his hands to her stomach, taking the sickness from her as quickly as it had come. A look of surprise paralyzed Christa’s face, and her cheeks colored. She sai
d nothing but thanked him with a small smile and a nod of her head.

  A tiny dart of jealousy landed in my stomach, but I plucked it out, thinking such a reaction was ludicrous.

  “Just up the way is Alnwick,” Rand said with a gesture toward the window. “Where I live.”

  “How long have you lived there?” I asked.

  “Sixty years.”

  I shook my head, still having trouble imagining he could be so old when he looked so young. What was weirder still was the fact that if Rand looked his age, there is no way in hell I’d be attracted to him. He’d be over one hundred fifty—yuck! I felt my nose scrunching up at the idea and forced my attention outside the window, not wanting to continue picturing the geriatric Rand.

  The view did a good job of grabbing my attention. Northumberland was a land of castles, thatched-roof houses, buildings dating to the fourteenth century, and it was right on the coast. The English coastline was entirely different from that of California—maybe more similar to Washington’s. The sky was a drab grey, the sun seemingly fighting to break through the shadow of the sky. A light rain had already welcomed us and now sprinkled the rumbling ocean, warning of more to come.

  “Hadrian’s Wall isn’t far from here,” Rand said.

  “I hadn’t realized we were so close to Scotland,” I answered and started to get excited. I hadn’t done much traveling in my life, and I did have to admit that it was pretty darn neat to see more of what the world had to offer.

  “Yes, very close.” He smiled, and an image of the Crypt Keeper crept into my mind until I violently shook it away. Sheesh! Just because Rand was over one hundred didn’t mean he’d look like a zombie or whatever that hideous thing was.

  After driving for maybe thirty minutes, the taxi climbed a long and steep drive. On my right, a rock fence lay in disrepair, speaking of times past. Beyond that, white sheep dotted the landscape and contrasted against the miles of verdant farmland.

  “Nearly there,” Rand said. I could see why he chose such a remote place in which to live. He was a private person, and one could get as much privacy as one wanted out here—his only neighbors a few sheep and some craggy trees.