These Arms Of Mine

by M. L. Briers

  “Interpret?”

  “I don’t think he has the magic himself – I think he’s using a warlock or dark witch to achieve his ends. I can’t see through the darkness, Morgana, and I suggest you don’t try.” Maxi warned.

  “Okay.”

  “I heard that screw you in your tone. Trust me, that his magic, and I use the term he loosely because I’m unsure – whoever he is, will destroy yours given half a chance.” She warned.

  “You can’t point me in a general direction?”

  “I can tell you to walk away from this now, before it’s too late, before you pop up on someone’s radar.” Maxi meant it, of that and that alone, Morgana was certain.

  “Nathaniel was taken…”

  “I won’t help him.” Maxi hissed back, and Morgana knew that conversation was over.

  “If you come across anything more…?”

  “I will call you.” She sounded like she meant it, and Morgana couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

  “You gonna make me pay you for your time?” Morgana grinned as she pushed up to her feet.

  “Not when that money comes from the vampire, no.” Maxi sat back against the chair. She had a sour look on her face at the very thought of Nathaniel.

  Morgana nodded and turned to leave…

  “I do this for you, Morgana, not for him. Make sure that he knows to stay off my radar.” Maxi bit out.

  “Will do, Maxi.” Morgana called behind her before she let the door close and left Maxi alone.

  “Damn fool,” Maxi pushed up to her feet and stalked towards the altar that was tucked away behind the drop of another curtain.

  “Working for the vampire is making you soft…”

  The witch rubbed her hands together over the top of the gold chalice. She’d touched Morgana and taken some of her essence, now she needed that to weave her spell…

  ~

  ~

  ~

  Morgana stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around her body. She scuffed the soles of her feet against the fluffy mat on the floor so that she didn’t skid on the wood and stylishly head-butt the wall, and headed out of the doorway into her bedroom…

  “Greetings and salutations,” Nathaniel offered from where he lay on her bed.

  His head was resting on his upturned hand, and his eyes took a slow roll down her body. Then there was that smug smile on his lips that annoyed the hell out of her the most.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ~

  Aside from the fact that she’d almost had a heart attack at the sight of him – and the fact that her magic had warned her that he was there with a ping of static against her shields that had set off the alarm bells at the exact same moment that his voice had hit her ears – she had the distinct need to kill him.

  “Oh, hell no…” Morgana bit out. She raised her hand and pointed an outstretched finger towards the window. “Back out the way that you came.” She was in no mood for him…

  It wasn’t that she hadn’t woven some pretty impressive wards around her house, protecting the entrances, of course she had. She was a witch, and not stupid to the ways of the supernatural … but … he’d been invited in, and with the best will in the world and all the magic at her disposal; not even she could uninvited a damn vampire.

  “This is a surprisingly comfortable bed, all things considered…” He bounced a little and she found herself seething a lot.

  “All things considered?” She didn’t want to bite on that remark but curiosity got the better of her.

  “Bargain basement …” he shrugged and watched her eyebrows try to reach her hairline in record time.

  “Out!” She demanded. Her voice increasing into a shrill ending…

  Morgana was well aware that he had her at a disadvantage…

  A towel … a damn towel of all things… she grumbled.

  “Aren’t you going to return the favour?” Nathaniel asked.

  “I went to Maxi…”

  “Not that favour … that was a given…” he cut her off and her eyes narrowed on him.

  “Favour?” She tipped her head to one side and as he made her wait for his reply, she kind of berated herself for asking the moment the words left her lips.

  “I showed you mine…” he grinned then. It was one big, devilish grin that spread across his face and made her want to lose her fist in it…

  Morgana wasn’t prone to physical violence without provocation – she preferred to let her magic do the talking for her – but for him, she would make an exception.

  “Call me again when hell freezes over.” Morgana craned her head on her neck towards him and pointed towards the window once more.

  “Oh, fine…” he huffed, swinging his legs around on the bed and pulling his body to a sitting position as he frowned up at her. “Tell me what Maxi said…”

  “Out.” She demanded.

  “Something I said?” Nathaniel gave her as close to an innocent look as the man could ever possible hope to get.

  “Something you did. O-u-t!”

  Morgana hadn’t dropped her arm from the last time that she’d told him to leave. She figured that he probably did better with someone drawing him a picture…

  “I’m here now, can’t you just tell me…”

  Nathaniel got no further than that. She wasn’t playing games with him, and he got that message loud and clear when she zapped him hard, harder than she’d ever done before…

  “O-k!” He ground out between clenched teeth, and he was sure that for a moment there even his fangs were trying to elongate in his jaws…

  Morgana snapped off her magic and bit down on her annoyance…

  “But, I’m using the door, and I’m waiting for you in the living room,” he went to take a step, and she took one first and barred the way to the door of her room.

  “You came in by the window, you can leave by the damn window, and knock on the front door like you, at least, pretend to have some respect for me…” She bit out, berating him with just a look.

  “Fine!” He sighed, rolling his eyes in his head and huffing once more as she stood there chewing an imaginary wasp.

  A blink later and he was gone.

  Morgana rolled her eyes to the ceiling and felt her muscles finally start to unclenched a little, and as she counted to a slid ten; she relaxed a little more on the shake of her head…

  The sound of a loud tap on the front door made her close her eyes for a long moment. The man was incorrigible.

  Morgana sighed.

  Boundaries … the man needs to have damn boundaries like a child…

  Then with something of a satisfied grin; she took her own sweet time in getting dressed.

  ~

  ~

  ~

  “Firstly,” Nathaniel said; when she’d finally opened the front door and berated him with just a look, “sour puss. I do have the uttermost respect for you…”

  “I take it that you’ve been thinking while waiting,” she shot back a little too sweetly for his liking.

  “Maybe a little,” he offered back with a small begrudging shrug off his broad shoulders and a sour look on his face.

  “By climbing in my bedroom window and disrespecting my choice to let you in or not?” She countered and watched him consider that for a long moment.

  “I can see how it might feel that way…” he offered back and her eyebrows climbed up her forehead again at record speed.

  “Yeah!”

  “Secondly; please may I come in?” He flashed her a winning smile.

  “No.”

  “No?” The smile was gone.

  “No.” She shrugged. “I can give you that answer in ten different languages including this one…” She offered him her middle finger and got a frown in return.

  “I think I got it,” he assured her.

  “Good.”

  “We can talk about witches, and vampires, and shifters, and murder out here on the doorstep with your neighbours listening…” His voice got pr
ogressively louder. “Or you can let me in for a minute.”

  “Fine…” she bit out, eyeing the windows of her neighbour’s houses to see if anyone was already twitching their curtains at his arrival.

  Morgana stood aside and allowed him in. He gave her a teasing grin the moment that his foot went over the threshold, and she was back to wanting to hurt him once more.

  “Do I get a drink?” He asked, dipping his head slightly as he drew level with her, and taking in her scent. “You smell nice…”

  Morgana rolled her eyes and then her body back away from him. Walking away; she left him to close the front door as she made a beeline for the kitchen.

  He’d already been inside of her bedroom and the living room felt just as personal to her.

  “Glass…” she reached up and snagged a tumbler from the shelf… “Bottle.” She slapped them both down on the kitchen counter that stood between them. “Have at it.”

  “What, you’re not going to pour a drink for your guest?”

  The amusement in his eyes riled her a little more. Maybe as much as the black on black clothing that he wore; it might have made him look devilishly handsome, but it also made him look dark, very, very dark and reminded her just who she was dealing with.

  “Uninvited.” She bit back.

  “On the contrary. I have been invited, otherwise I couldn’t have been in your bedroom…” he offered back with another devilish grin.

  He was having way too much fun at her expense. He reached for the bottle and unscrewed the cap.

  “I like the little flowers on your shower screen…”

  Morgana’s lower jaw sagged in disbelief. She reached out and snatched the bottle out of his hands, as her eyes shot daggers at him.

  “You looked.” She ground out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ~

  Morgana was more than unimpressed by his behaviour – before or then. The man was pushing boundaries between them and she was ready to make that clear.

  “Couldn’t help it. Perhaps closing the door would be a good idea if you don’t want anyone to see in…?” He offered with so much glee in his eyes that she could have hit him over the head with that bottle and enjoyed every second of it.

  She might even have done a jig.

  “It’s not like I invited you in, Nathaniel…”

  He snatched the bottle back from her and poured the Scotch into the glass. Morgana’s hand snatched up the glass and she made short work of the fiery brew, practically pouring it down the back of her throat without much of a swallow.

  “Cheers,” Nathaniel offered back.

  He had to admit that he was a little taken aback by her behaviour. She was usually so solid in her dealings with him. Almost predictable.

  Never one to be outdone; he put the bottle to his lips and drank thirstily.

  He still had cravings for blood after being without it for two days. It was a side product of his mind’s thirst and not his body.

  Bloodlust was never a good thing and he didn’t want to get any urges for her Fae blood. That would be bad…

  He could sate that lust with the Scotch – he hoped, but if that vein in her neck started to make him lick his lips then he was out of there.

  They had a working relationship of sorts. He liked having her skills at his beck and call, and risking all of that over what would be a top up wasn’t worth it in his book.

  That and the fact that she would probably never forgive him, and he hated that thought as much as the thought of never seeing her again.

  “Now tell me what Maxi said…” he urged as she eyed him.

  “It’s a him … probably, maybe not…”

  “That’s … enlightening,” he offered with a big dollop of sarcasm. “I waited like a schoolboy on the naughty step outside for that?”

  “It could be a warlock, but there is dark magic at play.”

  “Could be a warlock, but dark magic? How does that work?”

  “Witches use dark magic too.”

  “You don’t,” he shrugged.

  “Because I like having a soul.”

  “So a possible soulless witch, or a Warlock, maybe not – good to know. Any idea’s where I’d find one or more of those around here?” Nathaniel asked and she sighed.

  “No,” she eyed the bottle in his hand.

  “You want another?”

  “Not now your lips have been on it,” she hissed back.

  “It’s almost impossible for me to have cooties … hello, vampire healing blood…” he teased back, but she still snorted her contempt for him. “Fine. I’ll buy you another bottle…”

  “Right now?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

  “Well, not right his minute, no…”

  “See, selfish…” she turned away and pulled open the fridge, reaching in for a bottle of beer and slamming the door closed again.

  “Allow me,” he said, reaching out and flicking off the cap with his thumb nail.

  “Good for something. Maxi also said you would be my downfall,” Morgana saw him wince. She wondered at that reaction.

  “Do you believe her?”

  “The question is; do you believe her.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’re the one I’m bound too until my debt is repaid. Only you can say when that will be.” She climbed up onto a stool and watched the wheels turning within his mind.

  “Not true,” he offered back with a small shake of his head. “You could always die in the meantime.”

  “Gee, I’ll look forward to it.” She offered back with an acidic tone that he’d come to know and love from her.

  “The things some people will do to get out of repaying a debt,” he offered back. His eyes were shining with amusement again.

  “Did you ever think that maybe they just want to be away from you at any cost?” She shot back.

  “No.” He offered back dryly, but then he gave her one hell of a devilish smile; at the sight of it she had no choice but to sigh.

  “Come on, Nathaniel. Time to go bug someone else,” she motioned towards the door. “You can keep the cootie bottle.”

  “Answer me this, witch … what’s the timescale of a seer’s vision?”

  “It doesn’t come with a best before date stamped onto it, if that’s what you mean.” She offered back before taking a few large gulps of beer.

  “Point me in the direction of a black magic witch,” Nathaniel narrowed his eyes on her, and she slowly shook her head just knowing that he wouldn’t let it drop.

  “Leave it with me and I’ll see what I can find.”

  “Done.” Nathaniel started for the door. “Thanks for the drink.” He called over his shoulder and she rolled her eyes once more.

  The man was a law unto himself.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ~

  Nathaniel sat back against the chimney stack with a sigh. He held up the bottle of Scotch in front of him and eyed the remaining liquid left in the bottom.

  “Well that’s not going to see me till morning.”

  The moment that he rested the back of his head against the cold brickwork; he heard the soft touch of feet against the tile, and felt the brush of the supernatural in the air against his skin.

  Somehow he didn’t think it was the one he was waiting for or the tooth fairy.

  “I thought I’d find you here…” Julian said the words like it was an accusation, and for Julian, it probably was.

  “It’s called bait.”

  “It’s called caring about someone, and you know how wrong that is.” Again; the man’s words sounded accusing.

  “Don’t mistake an opportunity for caring.” Nathaniel offered back.

  “Don’t make the mistake of caring.” Julian rallied.

  “Well this conversation became boring fast. Tell me why you’re here before I liven things up and push you off the roof?”

  The moment that Julian sat down beside him; he snatched the bottle out from Nathaniel’s hand, and the man sighed.

/>   “I did your bidding and looked into the dark magic thing that you asked me about. I came up empty…”

  “Then I ask my question again. Why are you here?”

  Julian raised the bottle to his lips, but before he could drink; Nathaniel had snatched it away. It annoyed him that Julian thought he knew what was going on.

  Even if he did then that annoyed him even more. It meant that he was becoming predictable and that could be dangerous.

  “I had a bet with myself…”

  “Good luck getting the money. I’m still waiting after twenty two years for what you owe me.” Nathaniel sneered.

  “I thought I’d paid you that.” Julian offered back without an ounce of emotion within his voice.

  “How convenient … For you.”

  “Don’t you want to know what the bet was?” Julian asked with an air of superiority that left Nathaniel with little to no doubt that he was walking into a trap.

  “No.”

  “So, I’m going to tell you anyway…”

  “I thought you might.”

  Nathaniel rolled his eyes away from the man to scan the streets below. Then up to the opposite rooftop, making a thorough sweep of the area around them.

  “As soon as you told me what the witch said about you being her downfall, I knew that I’d find you guarding her like she was your damn problem.”

  Nathaniel didn’t want to look, but it was like a car crash, and he couldn’t help himself. When he turned his attention towards Julian; there it was, a smug expression that made Nathaniel want to plant his fist in the man’s face – repeatedly, and without remorse.

  The man was nothing if not predictable when he was turning the screw and they had something of a hate – respect – hate relationship going on between them over the years that made him want to turn that screw.

  “What part of bait don’t you understand?” Nathaniel offered back.

  He knew that he should have given up then. He guessed he was protesting too hard. He also knew that Julian wasn’t buying it, and yet, it was so hard to let go of his persona.

  “Maybe the part where you have a soft spot for the witch.”