I was surprised by the appellation, but Sinjin seemed to accept it as he pulled his hand away and Ryder dropped to the floor. His blood marred the wall where his raw shoulder had rubbed against it. Without a word, the younger vampire fled the room.
Sinjin turned and I shook my head as he neared me, tears running from my eyes.
“I am not going to hurt you,” he said and his voice was calm.
I wasn’t. “Y … you s … stay the hell away from m … me.”
Sinjin kept coming. I tried to pull against the handcuffs and could feel them cutting my skin. I didn’t care.
“It had to be done. Ryder disrespected me and I am his elder.”
“I don’t care who y … you are. You stay away from m … me.”
He slowed and lifted his hands in a show of submission, but my attention centered on the bite in his shoulder, which continued to squirt blood until it was flowing like a river down his arm. A few seconds later, the wound appeared to be healing itself.
“Jolie …” he started forward again.
“Please!”
He stopped and his usually plump lips worried into a straight line. “I was protecting you.”
I didn’t know what to say and still couldn’t catch my damned breath, so I said nothing, but watched Sinjin take a seat on the chair next to me.
“Do you want me to heal the bites?” he asked and I realized what that would mean. His head between my thighs.
“No.”
He smiled and looked hesitant, unsure of what to say. “I will not allow him alone with you again. I apologize for what happened. He will be severely disciplined.”
Will be? I’d thought he’d just received the tail end of a severe punishment. I wondered how much more of this I could take. I hadn’t been up and about in what felt like weeks, although I imagined it was more like days. I needed to make my move sometime; I needed to get out of this situation one way or another.
“When can I see Bella?”
He seemed surprised to hear my voice. But the surprise on his face didn’t last long before his usual arrogant countenance returned. “She will come to you. I do not know what else to tell you, my pet.”
I closed my eyes against the term of endearment. How it rubbed me the wrong way. “If Ryder finds me alone, he will kill me. I know he will.”
Sinjin nodded. “I will not allow him near you. You have my word.”
“Your word means nothing to me,” I spat.
Sinjin gritted his teeth, and I wondered if I’d gone too far. He seemed to be the only protector I had here and maybe I needed to make the most of it. “I suppose actions speak louder than words.”
~
Four days later and Sinjin had been true to his word; I hadn’t had any more visits from Ryder. I did, however, have a visit from Bella. The sight of her made me want to scream. If I hadn’t been cuffed to the goddamned cot, I would’ve lunged at her to let her know exactly what I thought of her.
“What am I doing here?” I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear it.
Sinjin followed her and sat in a chair in the far corner of the room, regarding me with what appeared to be concern. Bella settled in the chair next to my bed, taking time to smooth her long, blue skirts.
“I should have won the rights as your employer a long time ago,” she started.
“You lost fair and square even though you poisoned Rand. He was the better witch.” I wasn’t going to mince words. I might be stuck here, but that didn’t mean I had to be polite about it. Her aura vacillated with purple edges, and I smirked.
Surprisingly, she kept calm. “Regardless of what you think, you are now working for me. You either do as I tell you or I will kill you.”
“Then kill me.” As soon as I’d said the words, I gave myself a second to reflect upon them and thought maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. For all I knew, maybe Bella wasn’t bluffing. She had killed her father, after all. Killing me would be like taking out the trash.
Sinjin shifted, drawing my attention. He gave a slight shake of his head. Well, screw him.
“Don’t forget I know where you live. I know how to get to Rand if need be …” she said, her eyes narrowed like a cat’s.
“Rand is way too strong for you to ever take him unaware.”
“That is debatable,” she said, trying to mask her fury. “But what of your friend … the one I met at your shop?”
My stomach dropped. Bella could and would kill Christa easily. There comes a point when you have to admit your defeat. If Christa was a pawn in this game, I’d lost. I could not and would not endanger my best friend.
“If I do as you say, you’ll leave her alone?” I asked, realizing I’d just given up all my freedom if ever I’d had any.
“You have my word.”
“Just say yes or no,” I demanded, angry that she’d even offer her word.
“Yes,” she snapped.
I nodded and inhaled deeply, preparing myself for the fact that I was now Bella’s slave. “I want out of this bed.”
“Sinjin, attend to her,” Bella said, watching him hungrily as he moved across the room and bent over me. But Bella wasn’t a bloodsucker, so the hunger in her eyes was of another sort. I smiled inwardly. So Bella was lusting after Sinjin. Interesting. Another note to file away for future reference.
Sinjin undid the cuffs around my wrists, but before I could pull them free, he massaged the inside of my wrists with his thumb. The touch was so personal and out of the blue, I didn’t even have the wherewithal to pull my hands away. I eyed Bella, but she was too focused on the comeliness of his ass as he bent over me to even notice the exchange between us.
Sinjin pulled away from me and returned to Bella’s side of the room as I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t want him so close.
“I need a shower,” I said, rubbing my wrists. Now that I’d made the decision not to fight them, I had some demands of my own. “I haven’t had one since I’ve been here, and I need some new clothes. I’d create some for myself, but I’ve learned my magic won’t work here.” I couldn’t help the anger that laced my last sentence.
Bella smiled, but it wasn’t sweet. “Whatever you require, we are happy to oblige.”
“The witch will room with me,” Sinjin announced.
“No,” I started.
“Why?” Bella asked, jealousy resonating in her tone. I wanted to avoid her jealousy like the wrath of God. I was in a bad enough situation as it was, and I didn’t want to add to it by fueling the flame of contempt Bella was already displaying toward me.
“Ryder is still a threat to her safety. If we lose her, we lose everything we have strived for,” Sinjin argued and eyed me as if he were purchasing a new car.
“So kill him,” I interrupted.
Fire burned in his ice blue eyes. “We need him. If we kill him, Gwynn will pull her support.”
Bella nodded. “Yes, we can’t dispose of him.”
“I want a room to myself,” I continued though no one was paying any attention to me.
“You will room with Sinjin,” Bella said, obviously annoyed she couldn’t find a decent argument against it. She faced me and issued a warning with her eyes—a warning not to mess around with her man.
I said nothing, but glared at Sinjin, and he gave me a cursory nod. I didn’t know what to think about being his roommate. He’d definitely protect me against Ryder, but who would protect me against him?
NINETEEN
The darkness of the room enveloped me, and I was overcome with the smell of something sickeningly sweet … the scent of sickness, of infection. It was the stink of a rose that had been sitting in stale water for too long—the smell of death, rotting and sugary.
I forced myself forward, forced myself to approach the four-poster bed. In the darkness, I could make out a small woman engulfed in the center, her long gray hair matted in clumps, sweat pouring from her brow.
A small lamp sitting on a side table burned yellow against the pitch darkness of the room. It ca
st strange shadows against the woman’s face, making her deathly pallor even more pronounced. I wasn’t sure if the brownish stain on her pillow was from sweat or something worse. The high neckline of her nightgown reached her chin, making her look like a turtle. The covers were strewn around her, as if she’d been tossing and turning.
I fought the need to open a window and clear out the deathly odors that hid in each corner of the room. The air was so thick with stale mustiness, I could bite it.
The old woman’s eyes were closed, but I imagined they’d be colorless. One as old as she wouldn’t have effervescence in her eyes. They’d be dull and void, life having distilled any vivacity from them.
I neared the bed, fully aware she couldn’t see me.
I was here to bring her back to life. To bring her back to the land of the living, so she could serve the undeserving person of Bella. I was here to reanimate an enemy. The irony lined my throat like mucus.
The woman wasn’t a werewolf or a ghost, so I couldn’t really rely on past experiences for guidance on this one. The woman was a prophetess, at least that’s what Bella had called her. Apparently, a prophetess was someone who could see the future. I didn’t know how that differed from a psychic, but didn’t care enough to ask any questions. I wasn’t sure what this meant for me, if bringing back a so-called prophet would make my job any different, any harder.
She was over eighty, if I had to guess, and sickness hovered around her like a fog. Being the late 1800s when leeches were considered good medicine, it wasn’t going to be long before her maker came for her. Or I intervened.
Then it suddenly dawned on me; how would I know when Death arrived? In all my other experiences, it was obvious when the time of reckoning was upon the person in question. This was entirely different. There was no gunshot, no angry wolf … this was sickness, slow and unreliable.
I moved closer to the bed, willing myself to breathe through my mouth, so the sickening scent of infection wouldn’t cause me to retch. Her eyes were clamped shut, her breathing shallow and ragged—like the sounds you hear as a kid when you’re supposed to be asleep, but you’re convinced there’s a monster breathing in your ear. I wondered how long it was going to take her to kick it. I didn’t want to wait around all day. Not like I had much to get back to—a pissed off witch and a vampire who was making it very difficult to hate him.
I angrily shoved thoughts of Sinjin away. I couldn’t deal with them now. I sighed and broke away from the bed, wandering around the barren room. It was like being on a tour of some museum house where you aren’t allowed to touch anything. I frowned and touched every piece of furniture.
“Who’s there?”
Her voice shocked me out of my boredom. I couldn’t see anyone else in the room, and it took me a second to realize she was talking to me.
“I can’t see you,” she continued, her fingers clutching her bedspread. “But I know you’re there.”
I neared the bed again and noted her old and dull eyes were open wide with fear. She gazed around the room, but her eyes never focused on me. I wasn’t sure if she was blind or what. After watching her for a few more seconds, it looked as if she could clearly focus on the door, so she wasn’t blind …
“Speak!” she insisted.
I was at a loss for words. What was I supposed to say? Hello and how is your day going? Were you planning on dying any quicker? “Can you hear me?” I said, thinking it the next best question.
She closed her eyes and swallowed. “Who are you?”
My mouth fell open as shock waged a mini battle within me. I guess this was what was different about resurrecting a prophet. She could hear me where none others could. It sort of weirded me out.
“I’m here to save you,” I said, thinking I sounded like an idiotic super hero.
She laughed. Apparently, she thought my answer idiotic too. Her laugh turned into a racking cough and my hands curled as I waited on pins and needles for her to die, so I could dive in and stop it from happening.
“You can’t save me,” she said, once the spasm of coughs escaped her. Her voice was gravelly. It sounded dehydrated. She opened her eyes again and searched for me in vain. I stepped up closer to her.
“I can save you,” I said, though not completely convinced.
“Are you a spirit?” Sweat poured from her brow, making it look like her forehead was crying. It grossed me out, and I had to look away, the need to open a window as demanding as eating something sweet when you’re on a diet.
I shook my head and then remembered she couldn’t see me. “No.”
“Why can’t … I see you?” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she was sick with. Hopefully it wasn’t airborne. Not that it mattered anyway—as a witch, I could heal myself. Apparently, such was not the case with prophetesses. Maybe she was just sick with old age.
“I don’t know.”
“What are you?” She frowned and grated a trembling, gnarled hand across her brow. Her hand was so old, you could mistake it for a tree root.
“I’m a witch,” I started. “From the future.”
As soon as I said it, I realized how ridiculous it sounded and felt like laughing myself. A witch from the future. … If it was me, I’d think I was dreaming. It surprised me that this woman didn’t consider the same thing. Course, maybe she was.
The old woman sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. “You,” she whispered.
“You … you know me?” Wait, that couldn’t be right. She was delirious. Great, I didn’t have time for this crap.
“Ah, I remember.”
I sat on the edge of her bed. But after imagining her sickness crawling along the bed, up my arm and into my nose and mouth, I quickly stood. “You remember what?”
She cleared her throat and reached for a glass of water on the side table, her hand shaking like she had palsy. “You are the prophecy. I never believed it, but it … must be true.”
My heart slammed against my chest as I wondered what in the hell she was talking about. “What prophecy?”
“We were … told that you would come. The woman who … can bring with her everlasting life. I … I never believed it.”
She looked as excited as someone could who’s nearly dead. I didn’t know what to think, but I couldn’t stop the angst that welled up within me. A prophecy? It seemed implausible that she should know about me hundreds of years ago, but it unsettled me all the same.
“I don’t bring everlasting life,” I said, trying to disprove her belief for my own sense of well being.
“Are you here to save me from dying?”
I nodded and caught myself again. It was hard being invisible. I had a new level of understanding for Pelham. Pelham … the thought that I might never see his ghostly handsome face caused me more chagrin than I wanted to admit. Of course, that thought led to ones of Rand, and I had to abandon them before I became a blubbering mess. “Yes, but …”
“You can’t save me.”
I was annoyed. I wasn’t sure if it was so much due to the situation or the thoughts of Rand which had thoroughly depressed me. “Why not?”
“You can only save those who wish to be saved.” A smile played with her lips—almost like she was pleased she could throw a wrench into my plans.
“I have a job to do, and that job is bringing you back with me, regardless if you want me to or not.”
Her smile widened, revealing tarnished and yellow teeth—four to be exact. God only knows what had happened to the rest. I could never understand why people held such a reverence for the past. No doctors and no dentists … I was very happy to be part of the twenty-first century, thank you very much.
She pointed toward the vicinity of where I sat. “I know why you … are here. I will not go … with you.”
There was no point in arguing with the old fart. Once she started to see the light, I was grabbing her and taking her with me. I backed away from the bed and stretched my arms above my head. God, she w
as taking forever.
“I won’t join Isabella,” she said in a small voice.
That grabbed my attention like Rand in a pair of tightly fitting pants, and I neared the bed again. “Why is that?”
She turned her head to the side and seemed to focus all her energy on a single rose bloom that stood in a tall vase. There was no water in the vase and the rose looked wan with thirst.
“I have looked forward to my … freedom for so long. I refuse … to be her slave any longer.”
Hmm this was interesting. “Bella seems to think you’re pretty important. You were on the top of her list.”
“She is mistaken.
I sighed. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.”
The old woman laughed, an empty sound that grated on my nerves like a Celine Dion song. “You do not serve her.”
I frowned. “I work for her, it’s the same thing.”
“No, you do not. I can sense it from you.”
She started coughing again and I inched closer, thinking she couldn’t last much longer. “I’m dying,” she said as if to validate my thoughts.
“I’m taking you with me.”
She shook her head as her breathing became very ragged. “Tell Isabella I will … see her in hell.”
I grabbed hold of her shoulder as she exhaled and her eyes popped open.
“You are no witch,” she said, her eyes wide. “You have … no idea … what … you … are.”
Then she died.
Before I could fully understand her words, I was rushing through a tunnel. A flash of light burst in front of me. I opened my eyes and found my cheek against the itchiness of cheap carpet. I peeled myself off the floor and sat back on my thighs. I shook my head, trying to shake off the after-effects of mind traveling.
“Jolie…” Sinjin said, worry gnawing at his otherwise handsome face.
Bella gave him a scowl before her eyes fell on me and the scowl turned deadly. “Where is the prophetess?”
“She refused to come with me,” I said, thinking the truth was the best response. “I grabbed her arm when she died, but it made no difference.”
Fire Burn And Cauldron Bubble, A Paranormal Romance (Jolie Wilkins) Page 28
