mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate
Page 9
“What’ll you have?” the bartender asked, wiping her hands on a towel. Her gaze lingered on Malcolm and Sofia had to stop herself from sneering.
Of course she didn’t care if the hot bartender gave Malcolm an I-would-bone-you-immediately look. Why would she?
“I’ll have a coke,” she said. “And tuna water for my familiar.”
The bartender nodded and looked at Malcolm.
“Pint of porter, if you have one on tap.”
“We do.”
She filled their orders and Malcolm paid her, then turned and headed toward a table in the back corner. Sofia grabbed her Coke and the saucer of tuna water and followed.
“You don’t drink?” he asked as they sat. They each took a chair in the corner. Kitty sat on a chair of her own, facing out toward the room so that she could watch the going’s on.
“I do. But I’m not as big as you. One beer can make me a little lightheaded, and since I don’t know what’s coming at us tonight…” But Malcolm clearly wouldn’t have that problem. It’d probably take a lot more than a few beers to dull his reflexes.
“Of course.”
They eyed the patrons. Sofia tried not to focus on how close Malcolm was to her. His arm was only a few inches from her own. If she really focused, she imagined she could feel his heat.
Oh, how she wanted to feel that.
She started and almost smacked herself. What a damned stupid thought. It didn’t matter how handsome he was, or how powerful he’d looked when taking care of those demons.
Or how skilled he’d been with his hands last night.
The memory sent a shudder through her that she barely repressed.
No matter how angry she was with him for leaving her and how much she didn’t trust him now, she wanted him. Even if it was only for one night. Which was all it could be. He couldn’t keep an oath. He couldn’t be in any kind of real relationship.
He’d ensured that when he’d become a warlock.
She scowled at him and asked, “Is your plan to just approach the first person who walks in alone?”
He nodded.
“No. Too obvious. I’ll make them come to us.” She conjured a cigarette—magic that was small enough to not require her wand—then got up and headed to the door as if she were going to have a smoke. Kitty hopped off her seat and followed. “I’ll be right back.”
She wound her way through the tables and patrons, ignoring a few appreciate glances that were tossed her way. The door swung open easily and she stepped out into the frigid air and lit the cigarette. She didn’t particularly like the thing, but if one was going to be hovering in doorways, it was good cover.
Once she’d determined that the coast was clear and she stood near enough to the door that people couldn’t see her through the pub’s windows, she drew her wand and ran it around the door frame. Satisfied, she stubbed out the cigarette and went back in, Kitty hot on her heels. She dropped the butt in the trash and found her seat next to Malcolm.
“What was that all about? You don’t smoke.”
“Know me so well, do you?”
“I once did.”
True enough. But she ignored it. “I charmed the door. The next individual to walk in alone will be attracted to me. They’ll come sit with us. Then you’ll ask the questions. It won’t look so strange.”
“No one would have noticed us approaching a loner. I’d have seen to it.”
She didn’t know how, probably with some sort of enchantment, but it wouldn’t be a problem for him. “My way is easier.”
“Perhaps.”
“You’re such a bastard sometimes, you know that? You steal my dagger, kidnap me, and are generally a jerk. Yet you throw yourself in front of lightning for me. What’s with that?”
He glanced at her, his expression closed, then back at the door. It opened and a man walked in. “He’s got potential.”
“No he doesn’t. Someone’s behind him. And you’re changing the subject.”
“Now’s not the time.”
She scowled. But he was right. She needed to keep her eye on the room. They were outsiders here. Though she’d heard of tourism even in Salem’s Hollow—Mytheans loved going places where there were no mortals—she didn’t know how well they blended. Tight-knit communities were always wary of outsiders.
“We need to have some kind of lighthearted conversation. So we look normal, not like vultures waiting for our prey.”
He huffed a laugh. “Fair visual. Fine. What are your hobbies?”
“Don’t have any.” No time.
“All right. I suppose you’re too busy taking care of Bruxa’s Eye.”
“Nailed it. Not that you’d know anything about that. Loyalty isn’t exactly your thing.” She kept her gaze focused on the crowd. If she looked at him, she was afraid he’d see how much that hurt her. The barb had sounded acidic, but it tasted bitter.
“I’d like it to be. With you.”
“Don’t exactly have that choice, now do you? You’re stuck. A warlock. Can you even—”
Her words stopped when a woman walked through the door. Young and pretty, with golden hair and a red dress, she was alone. Her gaze went straight to Sofia and she walked toward them, her stride intent.
“Women, too?” Malcolm asked.
“I’m not a homophobe.” Sofia smiled at the woman as she neared.
“May I?” The blonde asked. Her tone was slightly confused, as if she wanted to sit near Sofia, but she wasn’t quite sure why. But she didn’t even glance at Malcolm. The spell was working.
“I’d be delighted,” Sofia said.
Kitty had smartly arranged herself in the seat next to Sofia, so the woman sat next to Malcolm.
“I’m Caroline,” Sofia said. “What’s your name?”
“Lucy.” Her blue eyes were riveted to Sofia.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sofia saw Malcolm slip the cuff off, then reach up and touch the woman’s temple. He quickly slipped it back on and glanced around. Sofia did as well, but no one looked at them. He’d been quick enough that they hadn’t noticed his power when the cuff was off. It would have felt like electrical tension, or a tickling on the skin, to be near someone as powerful as he for the first time. But they felt nothing, thank fates.
“Lucy, look at me.” Malcolm’s voice was low and commanding.
She looked his way immediately.
“What are you? fae?” he asked.
She nodded and slipped her hand into her hair, drawing it back. A pointed ear showed.
“What sort?”
“Melusine.”
“Water fae?”
“Yes.”
Good. They were powerful, but not overly so. Sofia doubted their new friend would be able to break Malcolm’s enchantment or remember it if he told her not to.
“Are you meeting anyone here?” Malcolm asked.
“Yes. But I’m early.”
“How early?”
“About thirty minutes.”
“Do you know anything about the Salem Coven?” Malcolm’s voice had dropped so low it was nearly a whisper.
“Some.”
“How many are there?”
Lucy’s brow crinkled. “Thirteen, I think.”
“All right. Good. Are any here right now?”
“No,” Lucy said immediately.
“Where do they live?”
“Near the shore. By the park. Halibut point. The land is enchanted so mortals can’t see it. Some Mytheans can’t either. But when I’m in the water, my vision is better.” She shivered. “It’s terrifying.”
“Are there any patterns to their movement? Do they ever leave the house?”
“No pattern that I’ve noticed, but I don’t go close very often.”
“Good. Can you take us there?”
“But I’m meeting my friend tonight. He’ll come looking for me.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Yes, I think so. As long as I’m in the water. That’s the only way I can
find it. And where my vision is best.”
“Excellent. We’ll meet you at Salem Harbor. We’ll be in a boat.”
“All right. But we need to do it at night. I can’t let them see me.” Her eyes went a bit wild with fear.
“Of course, Lucy. Of course. We’ll meet you an hour before dusk at the marina. Then you’ll take us.”
“All right.”
“Thank you, Lucy. If you’re asked, you thought you recognized us. You were wrong. We’re just here on vacation. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and stood, still slightly dazed, but it was only visible if you knew to look.
“That was good,” Sofia said.
“It was. Let’s go.”
She followed him out into the cold night air, Kitty at her heels.
“We’ll head back to my house,” he said.
“Shouldn’t we get a hotel? Scotland is far.” The magical energy required to aetherwalk that distance was pretty large. It’d take her nearly a day to recoup and she’d rather have it on hand for spells and the like.
“Distance doesn’t matter for me. I’ll aetherwalk and take you with me.”
Of course. He could recoup whatever he spent directly and immediately from the aether.
“Fine.” She didn’t want to wander the streets looking for a hotel anyway. She held out a hand.
He ignored it and pulled her into his arms. His warmth suffused her immediately. The strength of his arms was impossible to ignore, as was the hardness of his chest. Her annoyance at his heavy-handedness made it easy to stifle her sigh of pleasure.
Sofia glanced down to see Kitty pressed up against Malcolm’s leg. A second later, they stood in his library. The fire was bright and cozy and she broke free of his embrace to rush toward it.
She soaked in the warmth as she rubbed her arms, grateful that the fire was enchanted to burn continuously. Kitty had sprawled out on the floor and was trying to toast her belly.
“I’ll get us something to eat. You can stay there. Get warm.”
She glanced over her shoulder to see him leaving the room. He’d bring her food while she waited in front of the fire? That was nice. Was he taking her words to heart?
Or was she crazy for seeing kindness where there was only more machinations?
Idiot. It didn’t matter how nice he was about the little things. He’d stolen her dagger. Kidnapped her. When it had counted, he’d left her. He’d chosen power over anything they could ever have together. That choice made it impossible for them to have a future. So what did it matter if he cooked for her and saved her from danger?
He returned ten minutes later with three heavy bowls full of fragrant stew. He handed one to her and put one on the floor for Kitty.
“Thanks.” She inhaled. Fates, this was just what she wanted after a long day. She ignored him and went to a big chair that sat to the right of the fire. It enveloped her in heavenly softness and she ate while staring into the fire. Kitty made contented purring and snarfing noises at her feet.
Malcolm took the chair across from her, but she ignored him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Malcolm watched Sofia eat, entranced by the way the firelight gleamed on her skin and hair. She was so bloody beautiful.
And so pissed off at him.
This wasn’t going to be easy.
He realized that he’d forgotten his stew and started eating. He barely tasted it as his gaze continuously returned to Sofia. When she finished, he took her bowl and his own to the kitchen. By the time he got back to the library, she was standing up to leave.
“We should plan what we’ll do tomorrow,” he said.
“What’s there to plan? You’ll get us a boat. We’ll leave from the nearest port. And we have all day tomorrow to sort that out.”
She was right. But he wanted an excuse to spend time with her. Just being near her after so long filled a dark hole in his chest. He knew he was botching this—she was right, kidnapping was no way to woo a woman—but it was the only hand he knew how to play.
He went to the whisky sitting on the far shelf and poured two glasses, then brought one to her.
“I didn’t say I wanted that.” Her gaze met his as he held it out.
“I thought you might like it.”
“I don’t.”
“You like whisky.” She had once, at least. “And it’s an excellent vintage. Made by Cadan Trinovante’s distillery.”
Her brows rose in interest. So she’d heard of the Mythean who owned a distillery and made the best whisky in Scotland.
“Fine.” She took it and sipped, her lids lowering in pleasure. “It’s not bad.”
His gaze was riveted to her. “Not at all.”
Being with her again confirmed for him that Sofia was what he wanted. He’d missed her. More than he’d even known.
But all those lost years… And all the things that could never be now that he was a warlock.
His fist tightened on the crystal tumbler. He reigned in his strength before he shattered it and directed his gaze toward the fire.
He couldn’t let her go, but he couldn’t have her fully, either. The flame flickered before his eyes. It would take only a wave of his hand to extinguish it. Just as it would only take him falling in love with Sofia to end things between them.
Fate would know. It always did. How could it not? It was everything. Past, present, future. It saw all. And he’d seen what had happened to Oliver and Laira. That wouldn’t be them.
“When do you plan to let me go?” she asked. “The problem with my village has distracted me from your creepy kidnapping, but I haven’t forgotten.”
“I don’t know.” He couldn’t let her go. But she was too strong to hold onto forever. Not when all he could do was fuck her. He could give her pleasure, but little else. Without love, she wouldn’t stay.
But ignoring his need for her had gotten him nowhere.
It was time to craft a new fate. One in which he managed this situation, his feelings, and kept himself far enough apart from her that he could keep her without fate taking her away. If all he could have was sex and the occasional conversation, he’d take it.
But he’d have to be careful. He was half in love with her as it was. If he fell all the way, it’d be over.
“Why did you trap me with you? Not that I couldn’t get away if I really wanted to. But I do need your help. Which I hate.”
“Because I want you.”
Her gaze blazed as she looked at him. “It doesn’t matter if you want me. You made it so that we could never be together. And you got me into this mess. I’m not exactly feeling kindly toward you at the moment. Nor have I for the last four hundred years.”
“You’ll get over it.”
Rage lit in Sofia’s chest as she watched Malcolm. It heated her from the inside and made her fingertips tingle to shoot lightning at him. He was such a bastard. He thought he could have whatever the hell he wanted—including her.
“I’ve had enough.” She set her glass on the hearth and walked toward the door.
“We’re not done.” His voice was a command.
At the desk, she spun around. “What the hell do you mean?”
“Exactly what it sounded like. I’ll take my favor now.” His golden eyes roved over her hungrily.
“What?”
“The favor you promised in exchange for my help.”
“Jesus. It’s going to be just like the last one, isn’t it? Well, I’m not having any of it.” She turned to go, but before she could move a step, he was in front of her, trapping her against the desk.
That damned desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kitty leave the room.
“I want you.” His golden gaze blazed as he loomed over her.
Heat bloomed in her belly and she hated herself. She wanted him. Gods dammit, she was an idiot. But she couldn’t help it. Visions of him touching her flashed through her mind. The memory of last night made heat streak through her. Everything tingled.
She forced the thoughts away and demanded, “What, your favor is sex? You’re making me have sex with you in exchange for your help?”
He sucked in a harsh breath and clenched his fists, his gaze darkening with desire. “No. I’m making you do this.”
His hands were on her shoulders in an instant, spinning her so that she faced the desk and looked into the darkened room beyond. The wood bit into the front of her hips. He pressed hot and hard against her back, a muscular wall that trapped her. His erection pressed into her spine. A brand.
Fear and desire pulsed through her.
She hated it, but the craving was there. Strong. Pulling at her. The memory of last night only fueled it.
He was big, and dangerous, and strong. And she wanted him.
“As much as I want to have sex with you—to be inside you—” his voice roughened at her ear, “I won’t make you do anything to me. I’m not that much of a bastard. I just want to touch you.”
Just touch her? But why?
His arms came around her, one wrapping around her hip and the other around her shoulders. Her breath caught in her throat.
“And if I don’t let you?” Fear continued to push her desire higher. What was wrong with her?
“Then I won’t consider helping you.” His lips were so close to her neck that she swore he kissed her.
She shuddered hard, knowing he could feel it.
“Yes. Okay.” It was almost an easy decision. It was a bad idea and the only way out. And she wanted it even as she trembled with a strange combination of need and distress.
He groaned softly, the sound reverberating against her skin and sending a frisson of pleasure across her nerves. She stared blindly into the dimly lit library, her senses heightened to insane precision.
When he ran his lips gently down her neck, she dug her fingers into the wooden desk, trying to control her spiraling thoughts.
“Bloody hell, you smell good,” he rasped. His lips pressed against her neck, then he bit.
She stifled a cry of pleasure.
“Your skin is so soft.” He ran his tongue along the tightened tendon at the side of her neck and she shuddered. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. Dreamed of it.”
Malcolm squeezed her shoulder and hip, crushing her to him as he bit her earlobe. A small spike of pain, then a large streak of pleasure.