by Linsey Hall
Fates, how she wanted to be close to him. To pretend that time and choices hadn’t torn them apart. But she was so close to falling for him again, and that was so damned dangerous. She couldn’t have her heart broken a second time. And he would break it. Unless…
“Give up being a warlock,” she said, desperation clear in her voice. “Take it back.”
“I can’t.” He gripped her shoulders, his gaze pained. “It’s who I am. And it’s not possible, anyway.”
Not true, part of her whispered. There had to be a way.
But it was clear in his firm gaze…he wouldn’t pursue it. This was why he was the cloaked man in her tattoo, she realized. When Corrier had asked her to picture Malcolm, she’d just received a feeling. He was inaccessible to her. Reserved.
It made her heart ache. But perhaps it was a good thing. As long as she knew he never intended to try, she wouldn’t fall for him. Right? That would just be stupid. And she still hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d done.
“I’m sorry, Sofia. I can’t do that.” His gaze met hers, devouring. “But I can make this work between us.”
She shook her head, her heart sinking. “You really can’t.”
After seeing what had happened to Laira… There was no guarantee that the same wouldn’t happen to her— if they fell back in love with one another, something would tear them apart. One of them might die or become imprisoned or they’d grow to hate each other.
“Let me try.” His gaze was so intense, his desire so strong, that she could almost feel it. “Just stay the night with me. We’ll only sleep. But I want to be near you. Now. Forever.”
It was such a bad idea, but she couldn’t help herself. For now couldn’t be so bad, could it? Forever was out of the questions. But just one night?
“No sex.” It was too dangerous. It’d make her fall for him even faster. “Just sleeping. And just tonight.”
A heart-stopping grin took over his face and he swept her up in his arms. She gasped, then clung to him, her heart pounding. A second later, they stood in his bedroom. They’d aetherwalked.
“I couldn’t wait,” he said.
“Hang on.” She drew her wand from the aether and turned her day clothes into sleep shorts and a shirt.
“Gods, you look so good,” he said.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she said, though an enormous part of her wanted him to throw her on the bed. It wouldn’t happen though.
She watched him strip down to his boxer briefs and stifled a sigh. Fates, he was big. All broad shoulders and planes of muscle. She’d never seen a man as well built and beautiful as he.
His golden gaze met hers. “In bed.”
She climbed in and turned away from him. The bed dipped, then his big arm wrapped around her and pulled her into his embrace. The most intense feeling of belonging swept over her. She hadn’t felt this in four hundred years.
Not since him.
It took her ages to fall asleep with his hard form pressed to hers, but every second was the most delicious torture.
The next evening, crows gathered on the roof of the Salem Coven’s mansion, their forms highlighted by the full moon. Malcolm kept an eye on them from where he and Sofia stood near the trees. All Hallow’s Eve had turned into a cold, clear night. The sound of waves crashing on the shore competed with the cawing of the crows.
“She’s almost late.” Sofia rubbed her arms and bounced on her feet. A dull metal band that matched his own flashed on her wrist.
This afternoon, after he’d given her some of his magical energy, he’d made her a band identical to his own. He’d given both bracelets enhanced dampening charms that would make it so that the other witches couldn’t sense them. They didn’t provide invisibility—so if they were seen, they were screwed, but at least the Salem Coven wouldn’t sense others in their home.
Sofia shivered hard.
He wrapped an arm around her to warm her. She stiffened, then slowly relaxed. Pleasure spread through him. He could make this work. He just had to convince her. Eventually, she’d see they could manage this.
You can’t escape fate. He shook away the thought, grateful when the mansion’s side door opened. Inara stepped out, clothed once again in jeans and a t-shirt. She approached.
Malcolm tensed, waiting to see if his enchantment would hold. When he saw her dark gaze, slightly confused but determined, he relaxed. She still had no familiar, which was odd for a witch, but she appeared to be under his spell.
“Are you ready?” Inara asked.
He nodded. “Are your coven members occupied? Not looking out the window?”
“They should be.”
“Good. Remember, we must not be seen by your coven.”
“Understood.”
“Lead the way.”
They followed her across the lawn, their steps quick and silent on the damp grass. The crows rustled, but they didn’t take flight or set up any greater racket. Up close, the mansion was unsettling. White paint peeled off the house siding and snakes slithered in the bushes. Not all witches were creepy—the ones at the university were downright charming if he recalled—but many were exactly as mortals envisioned them. It was mortal belief that had created them, after all, so it made sense.
Inara opened the side door. It creaked loudly. They followed her into a small antechamber. Black and white tiles covered the floor and ornate black wallpaper peeled from the walls. A chandelier burning real candles gleamed above.
“We go down the hall to the main stairs, then into the basement,” Inara whispered. “Keep behind me. This wing is used less, but if you hear anyone, duck silently into a room.”
They set off after her, Kitty in her smoke form, drifting along beside them. Sofia gripped her wand.
Portraits of witches watched them from walls hung with deep purple silk. Electric lights from another century lit their way.
Malcolm’s ears strained. He focused all his wulver senses on the house. If they were caught, it was over. They’d have the fight of their lives to escape and there was no way they’d get the book.
They passed half a dozen closed doors and two open ones, which revealed nothing more than dusty sitting rooms with empty hearths.
A noise sounded ahead. He grabbed Inara and Sofia’s arm to alert them and jerked his head toward an open door. They slipped inside and pulled the door closed. Heart thudding in his ears, he listened to footsteps approach.
Two sets.
Closer.
The doorknob turned.
He tensed.
“Wait, I forgot the book,” a woman said from the hall.
The doorknob turned back and footsteps receded down the hall.
Once the sound disappeared, Inara nodded and they crept out of the room, making their way more quickly down the hall.
At the end of the passage, a great foyer spread before them. The ceiling soared two stories above, a wrap-around balcony marking the second floor. A sweeping staircase with a blood red carpet was framed by mahogany bannisters.
Inara led them around the stairs to the back wall and pushed open a gleaming wooden door. A narrow staircase led down into the darkness. Inara raised her wand. It glowed at the tip. Light spilled down the passage, revealing stone stairs that looked centuries older than the house.
They followed Inara down, Sofia also using her wand for light. The stairwell opened into a dark, narrow hall. They followed it to the end, ignoring the closed doors on either side.
Inara paused at the end of the hall, then laid her hand against the door and recited an incantation in a language Malcolm didn’t recognize. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he watched her hand begin to glow. Once it was fully immersed in orange light, she pushed.
The door disappeared.
She walked through. Malcolm grabbed Sofia’s arm before she could follow. The door opened onto blackness. No floor or walls were visible. Just Inara, standing several feet away, her wand illuminating her form but nothing else. The light seemed to be suck
ed into the darkness, leaving nothing but black.
“It’s fine. Just the nature of the room. The portal to our afterworld makes this room look strange.”
Malcolm studied her. His skin tingled in warning, but she looked sincere.
“Wait here,” he said to Sofia. “If something goes wrong, just leave.”
“We’ll see,” Sofia said.
Muscles tense, he stepped into the room. Once inside, he could see that there actually was a bit of light. It emanated from a great stone archway that led through the wall to his right. It illuminated the large stone blocks that made up the floor and the ceiling. In the middle of the room sat a basin on a pedestal.
“See? It’s fine,” Inara said.
Malcolm turned to Sofia. She was already stepping inside the room, ignoring his orders as usual.
“Now what?” Malcolm asked.
“We pay the toll to have access to the portal,” Inara said. She approached the basin in the middle of the room. Her wand transformed into an athame. She dragged the ceremonial blade across one palm and let the red drops spill into the bowl, then glanced at him.
He stepped forward and held out his hand. She sliced his palm. Pain flared briefly as the blood dripped into the basin. After a moment, she pushed his palm away, then pushed on his arm so he turned to face the archway. White light pulsed within.
Inara went to stand before the arch. He approached and she handed him her athame. “I will separate my soul from my body and retrieve the book. If I begin to collapse from lack of power, you must stab me with my athame. Only someone of equal power to me can wield my athame. It will call my soul back to my body.”
“How likely is that?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never crossed here before. But you must do it or I will die.”
He nodded. Sofia had joined him. Inara turned back to the arch and closed her eyes. Malcolm could feel the energy change in the air as she grew deadly still.
Suddenly, a white light separated from her body and drifted toward the arch. It took the form of Inara. A small, ghostly cat walked at the soul’s side. Her familiar.
The pair disappeared into the archway. Malcolm waited, his breath held. The house around them creaked, the archway buzzed with power. His skin tingled with awareness and anticipation.
After what felt like hours, Inara returned, her ghostly form drifting through the archway. A large leather book was clasped in her hands. She held it out to him and he took it.
As her soul rejoined her body, he transformed the book into a small coin and slipped it into his pocket. Easier to carry and quick to change back.
A noise sounded from the stairwell. Inara jumped and whirled toward the door. Her gaze was no longer dreamy and confused as it had been.
His enchantment had worn off? That made no sense. He hadn’t removed it.
“You need to leave!” Inara hissed.
Footsteps sounded down the stairs. What the hell was going on?
“You have the book you wanted. Go now!”
Malcolm glanced between her, Sofia, and the door.
“What the hell, Malcolm!” Sofia said. “She’s not enchanted.”
“I helped you for my own reasons, now go!” Inara whispered. The enchantment had clearly never worked, but Inara had helped them anyway. Or had it been help?
The footsteps sounded closer. Malcolm grabbed Sofia’s hand. Kitty pressed up against his leg. It was safer to get out of here than stay and fight a dozen witches on their home turf. He closed his eyes, envisioned his home, and began to aetherwalk.
He hit a wall. The aether was blocked. His eyes flared open.
“A trap?” he asked.
Inara shook her head. “The others have blocked the aether, I think. You can no longer aether—”
The door melted away and witches surged into the room. Malcolm tore off his cuff and threw a blast of flame at the door. The witches stumbled back. Several stayed down, but the rest surged forward.
Sofia threw her cuff to the ground and flung out her wand, throwing bolts of lightning at the two witches in the front. Their bodies lit with an unholy glow and they shrieked. Sofia kept the current strong until they collapsed, then transferred her lightning to the next two.
Malcolm continued to throw fireballs, but more witches surged into the room. Too many. They raised their wands in unison and screamed, “Inable!”
A powerful force froze him like ice, his arm still flung out. From the corner of his vision, he could see Sofia and Kitty in the same state.
The witches who had fallen to the ground slowly found their feet. Their faces gleamed with anger. The group, eleven in all, faced them. The coven’s clothes were singed and their eyes were bright with rage.
Malcolm fought his magical binding but couldn’t budge.
They were screwed.
“Inara! What is this?” The strongest witch demanded. Her power radiated out from her, making Malcolm’s skin prickle. She was dressed entirely in black, a gloomy figure with pale skin and midnight hair.
“What?” Inara stumbled back, shaking her head. Confusion flashed across her features.
An act. It was clear now.
“I felt the disturbance in this room. Why are you here? With outsiders?”
“I have no idea,” Inara said. “They must have enchanted me.”
“Ridiculous. You can’t be enchanted.” The witch in black pointed her wand at Inara. Chains extended from the wand and wrapped around Inara, binding her until she fell onto her side.
The dark witch turned to Malcolm. “You’re strong. I don’t know what you are, but you must be strong if you thought you could get in and out of here alive. Either that or stupid.”
Malcolm opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t. Even his mouth was frozen.
“No need to talk,” the witch said. “You’ll just lie. Or try to enchant me. We can get what we want from your minds easily enough.” She glanced behind her at the ten witches who stood at her back. They stared at him, all with dark eyes and tilted heads. It was eerie as hell. “A mind sweeper spell, I think.”
The witches all raised their wands toward them. His head suddenly began to ache, pain growing until he thought he would collapse. Only their spell held him upright. He fought to protect his thoughts, but it was powerful magic. He put all his energy toward blocking the thought of retrieving the Grimoire, hoping that Sofia was doing the same. If they were going to make it out of here, they wanted to do it with the Grimoire.
The witches’ brows all rose in unison. Inara gasped from where she lay on her side. She was part of this spell? Or did she hear his thoughts because she was part of the coven?
“My, my. That is interesting,” the dark witch said. “What a fascinating history. And you thought to steal our Grimoire? For the High Witches? But did you succeed? I can’t see that in your memory.” Her gaze ran over his form and then over Sofia’s. “The book is large. It couldn’t be concealed in your jacket. If you have it, I don’t know what you’ve done with it. But we shall find it.”
She tapped her wand on her hand and stared at them. “Our High Priestess, Malifey, is out for All Hallows’ Eve. When she returns, we’ll revisit the question. For now, you’ll go to the dungeon.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The aether pulled at Sofia and blackness stole her vision. She tumbled to the ground, then scrambled up.
The dungeon was a small, stone-walled room, similar to the room they’d just been in. Kitty appeared next to her. Malcolm stood in the corner. Inara was lying on the ground, still wrapped in the chain.
“What the bloody hell was that?” Malcolm asked. “You weren’t enchanted, were you? Did you set us up?”
Inara scowled at him as she struggled to sit. “What do you think, moron? I’m chained up here, aren’t I?”
Malcolm growled, then said, “Fair point.”
“Why did you help us?” Sofia asked. “If that’s indeed what you did.”
“I had my reasons. I’m done with t
his coven.”
“Why?”
“You saw those crazy bitches. But there’s no way in hell I’m going into detail here. We need to get out.”
“We?” Malcolm asked.
“Do you want to know what we learned in your girlfriend’s mind? Because it’ll be news to her and I’m sure she wants to know it. And you’re not going to find out unless I get out of here with you.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sofia asked.
“You’re in a situation that’s bigger than you are. There’s more to it than even Sofia knows. But I’m not telling you unless I get out of here.”
“You mean there’s something in my mind I don’t know?” The idea freaked her the hell out.
“No. But you’re a bit famous. Not big time famous, but your situation is well known amongst witches. The High Witches are pulling quite a racket with you.”
Fates. Of course her life was more fucked up than she’d realized. She went to Inara and knelt down. It took a while, but she finally got the chain unwrapped. Malcolm was checking the walls.
“How do we get out of here?” She had spent too much time in dungeons lately. It was starting to piss her off.
Inara stood and rubbed her arms where the chain had cut into her skin. “We don’t. There’s no way out of here.”
Sofia glanced around. No doors. No windows.
She turned to Malcolm, her heart in her throat. The eleven witches in the Salem Coven had overpowered them once. They could do so again. Easily.
“There’s no way out from within,” Malcolm said.
“Nor without,” Inara said. “We can only escape if we’re freed by the coven.”
“Or if the building is destroyed.” Malcolm pounded on a wall. “Or even just a wall. Or the ceiling.”
“How the hell do you plan to do that if we’re locked in here?” Inara demanded. “Our magic is blocked. We’ve got nothing.”
“Not quite,” Malcolm said. “Are any of these walls exterior walls?”
Inara’s brow crinkled, but she looked around, then pointed. “That one, I believe.”
“Good.” He leaned back against the wall.
