Logan strode into the room with the graceful simplicity of a natural talent honed by training—the grace of a warrior, a killer.
“Don’t you know what’s at stake here?” he said.
I gave him a false smile. “No. I thought it was all rainbows and butterflies. Faris and I were just about to go out and celebrate the ‘end of days’ and get wasted. Care to join us?” Logan was wearing different clothes, a pair of dark jeans and a dark shirt, and the faint smell of soap coming from him told me he’d taken a shower. I hadn’t. I’d been too busy trying to figure out ways to locate the book, so I still smelled like a men’s locker room.
Logan looked at me like I was crazy. It just added more fuel to my fury, and I nearly let out a growl. Very unladylike. Good thing I wasn’t a lady.
“I think I’ll head downstairs and fetch myself a drink, give you two some… much-needed space,” said Faris, a smile on his face. He moved past Logan and mumbled. “You’re so dead.” And with an added hop to his step, the mid-demon disappeared down the stairs to the lower level. I swear I heard him laugh all the way down.
Logan stared at me. “What’s your problem? You’ve been acting weird lately.”
I pointed to myself to add to the overall effect. “I’ve been acting weird?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
Logan inhaled through his nose and nodded. “See what I mean? What’s gotten into you? One minute things are going well… at least that’s what I thought… and the next minute you ignore my calls, and you ghost me. You keep giving me your ‘angry eyes.’”
“My angry eyes.” That’s it. He was going down.
“You’re doing it right now.”
I eyed him, my face flaming. “I don’t know… why don’t you tell me? It seems like you have all the answers.”
Logan let out an exasperated breath and rubbed his face with his hands. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Right. Because all I’ve been doing is snoozing and hanging out with Faris. I’m not the one who took a shower and got all dressed up like he was going out on a hot date.”
The angel-born narrowed his eyes, his expression twisted up in shock and surprise. “You’re mad because I took a shower?”
No. Yes. “You’re acting as though I haven’t been working my ass off to try and find something to locate the book. I didn’t take a shower. I would have loved to step into a nice hot shower, getting all soapy and smelling nice… maybe even condition my hair and shave my legs. But no. I have to embrace my inner Sasquatch because there’s a world that needs saving. Hairy legs, here I come.” Yeah, I really was losing my mind.
He frowned. “You’re being irrational.”
Oh, he did not just say that. “Am I?” My anger soared. All the emotions from before came crashing down on me. Before I had a chance to think about what I was doing, I tapped into my rings and growled, “Vento!”
Logan was hit by a gust of wind. The angel-born shot across the room, hitting the wall and falling to the floor.
“Ooops,” I said. “Is that being irrational enough for you?” Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have done that, but the idiot really pissed me off. And I hadn’t hit him that hard. Not really.
Logan got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head as his shoulders moved in laughter. “I deserved that,” he said, his smile genuine, surprising me.
“I think you hit your head a little too hard.” I let out a breath, letting go of some of my magic. My hair settled around my shoulders as my magic subsided along with my spurt of anger. But I kept it there, holding it around my core, just in case.
Logan closed the distance between us. He slipped an arm around me and pulled me against him. I found myself letting him, letting myself go for a moment. The comfort of a man’s strong arms around me, the feeling of being protected, was nice. Really nice.
“I’m sorry I said that,” said Logan, his voice a deep murmur, and his dark eyes piercing into mine. My stomach fluttered. He leaned closer. “I was upset. I’ll admit it. Because… because I felt you pulling away from me,” he said, the faint light a glimmer in his eyes. “And it scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know what to do about it. I’ve been a mess. And I haven’t been able to tell you how I feel.” His voice was sincere, and his words rang true. I could see the emotion on his face. He couldn’t fake that. He cared for me. He cared a lot.
My anger bubble burst and then melted away. My arms hung loosely at my sides, and I couldn’t look away from the intensity in his eyes.
Logan’s hands moved around my lower back and stopped. He hesitated. “I thought we had something. Something real. Was I wrong?”
My heart thrashed in my throat at his nearness, at the honesty in his voice, at the emotions playing on his face. I didn’t want to tiptoe around what I was feeling. I was tired of making excuses. Why shouldn’t I be honest about what bothered me? Why should I feel guilty? Why should I be afraid of his reactions? Why are we women always saying everything is fine when it’s not?
I was going to come out and say it.
“You weren’t wrong,” I said finally. “At least, not for my part.”
“So… then what’s the matter?” Logan whispered, his fingers tracing the middle of my back.
“What’s the matter is that you’re embarrassed to be seen with me. That’s what,” I said, mildly embarrassed of what I’d just said.
Logan narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
It looked like I was going to have to spell it out for him. “The human restaurants,” I answered, my voice rising. “You took me to those three restaurants in Manhattan. Never once did you take me somewhere here in Mystic Quarter. We have restaurants just as fancy as theirs. But no. You didn’t want your angel-born buddies to know about us. Why are you smiling? Stop that. Stop that right now.”
“You’re really beautiful when you’re mad. It makes your dark eyes pop. It’s really sexy.”
Waves of heat rushed to my face and I had to try really, really hard not to smile. I was going to hit him again with my magic.
Logan never stopped smiling. “I took you to those three restaurants because they’re the best in the city. Better than anything in Mystic Quarter. I wanted only the best for you… for my witch.” His eyes dropped to my lips. “You have it all wrong. I’ve already told my parents about you. My mother’s expecting you over for dinner soon. She’s very excited to meet you.”
“You have? She is?” I didn’t know what to say. “You and me,” I continued, wishing I could spell away the flush on my cheeks. “It was never going to work. You’re the Head of House Michael. You have responsibilities. You have people to take care of, who depend on you.”
“So do you.”
“You’ve always known I was a Dark Witch. And, trust me, I’m no angel.”
Logan shrugged. “It’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”
“What? The fact that I’m no angel?”
“No,” Logan came closer, a wicked gleam in his eyes—the kind that was a mixture of desire and wanting to do something wicked. “The fact that you could be bad… but aren’t.”
Was his voice getting lower? “I don’t care how hot you are. I’m still pissed at you.”
Logan fumbled with the bottom of my shirt, and then his hands moved lower and cupped my butt. “We belong together. I know it. You know it.”
He’d better stop that. “You’re an insufferable ass,” I told him. “You always think you know better. You’re a control freak. It would never work between us.”
I breathed deeply, taking in his scent of a mix of musk and aftershave. Yum.
“Is that all?” Logan’s expression pulled into a whole smile, transforming his handsome face to drop-dead gorgeous.
“What do you mean, is that all?” I said, very aware of his hands massaging my butt.
“That’s really what’s been bothering you?”
“Yes.” Saying it out loud now sounded stupid. I was wrong. It wasn�
��t the first time, and I seriously doubted it would be the last.
He drew me closer until my breasts were pinned against his hard chest. His arms around me tightened for an instant and then relaxed. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“If you leave now,” I said, “I think I might kill you.”
His gaze was heady. “I don’t care how different we are. It works. I’ll never be able to cast a spell or understand magic, and I don’t care that you can do something I can’t.”
“Good to know.”
His hands felt good around me, and his eyes held passion, desire. I felt myself move my arms up to slide around his waist. They felt nice there. Natural.
His lips parted and he breathed in my scent, his eyes widening as they traced my face, my mouth.
“If you don’t kiss me soon,” I said, remembering how good his kisses were, “I’m going to have to spell you again. It won’t be my fault if you end up naked.”
Logan’s breath came and went, and his hands tightened around me. I felt his desire and his need in them. He leaned closer and kissed one corner of my mouth. Then the other side, pulling gently on my lips.
Oh, God, what is he doing? His kisses made me ache for more.
My skin tingled where his fingers touched my back. And then he covered his mouth with mine. He slipped a tentative tongue between my lips, and my breath came fast as he darted his tongue deep into me. He tasted faintly of coffee.
I let out a little moan and wound my fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. This was insane at a time like this, but we both needed it—a reminder that we were here for each other. That it was worth all the trouble.
He made a surprised sound, and his kiss turned more aggressive. A stab of desire went right to my core and sent a surge of heat through me, alarming and thought-provoking.
A wicked part of me wanted to rip off his clothes, to feel his hard body against my skin. Maybe we had time…
“Oh! I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?”
I pulled back, glad I hadn’t indulged in my feelings and stripped, but sad that our kiss had been interrupted.
Faris came strolling into the room, spilling his drink all over my floor. He looked from me to Logan, and his face pulled into a large smile. “Are you about to get some, Sammy? You lucky witch. You know… makeup sex is always the best.”
That sobered me right up. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, though I’d had those thoughts and then some. I moved away from Logan. If we survived this, there’d be lots of time to catch up.
If we survived…
“How’s Naomi?” I asked, wanting to distract my thoughts. My heart still pounded in my chest at the remnants of what we were about to do.
“She’ll be fine,” said Logan, shifting his weight, as his face flushed. “She’ll need to rest for a bit. But she’s in no more danger.”
“Good.” I nodded. “That’s good.” I looked around the room at the mess of books and scrolls on the floor that I’d made in my haste. “I’m still nowhere closer to finding that damn book.” Dread was coming back to me in leaps and bounds.
“Can’t you do a locator spell like the one you did to find the Greater demon Vargal?” asked Logan, his brown eyes worried and his posture shifting to an uncomfortable apprehension.
Motions stiff, I walked over to my table. “You need a piece of whatever or whoever you’re trying to track for the spell to work. I don’t have that. I don’t have anything.” I let out a long breath. “If only I had…”
“What?”
I laughed, feeling foolish at the thought. “Well, if I had something from one of the first witches who wrote the damn thing, for starters, I’d be in business.”
“Well, that’s easy enough to arrange,” said Faris and we both turned to look at him.
I wrinkled my brows. “What do you mean?” If he was going to say something silly or if this was a joke, I was going to strangle him.
“Would bones work, my little Sammy?” said Faris, a smile hovering over his features.
My lips parted. “Yeah. Yeah, bones would work.”
“Good.” Faris took a sip of his drink, smacked his lips and said, “Because I know where the old bags are buried.”
CHAPTER 22
Nothing like digging up a thousand-year-old grave to make you appreciate the little things in life, like hygiene and not being dead.
Now I could add grave digger to my list of achievements as a Dark witch. Or was it called grave robbery?
Turns out, the spot where the witches were buried was right here in New York State, up north in Westchester County, in the village of Sleepy Hollow—yes, that Sleepy Hollow. Coincidence? I think not.
I’d never been to the town of Sleepy Hollow before. I was so excited, I would have jumped out of the car to push it if it meant we’d get there faster.
Visiting the town was a dream come true for me. As a Dark witch I couldn’t ask for a more supernatural environment, though we weren’t exactly here as tourists, and we didn’t have time to visit the town properly. Nope. We had a one-way trip to the cemetery.
The sun was setting, the golden sunset giving way to twilight as we drove in Logan’s car and made the one-and-a-half-hour trip north to the quaint village.
When we hit the town, my face was practically plastered to the glass window as I tried to see everything at once and wished I had another pair of eyes, just so I wouldn’t miss a thing.
The drive wound in and out among thick, tall trees and rolling hills. The properties were well spread out, and most of them were fenced in with gates, nestled in a spacious, pastoral setting. It was quite beautiful.
The tale of the Headless Horseman chasing the doomed Ichabod Crane popped into my head, sending my skin riddling in goosebumps. Tim Burton’s movie rendition of the tale was one of my favs. Although some might think the story was fictional, and Irving made it up, but we all knew where stories and tales came from—real life. Yup. Irving got spooked when he visited the town, drawing his inspiration for his short story on one of his trips. The man could see the supernatural, and it scared the crap out of him, but it also made him famous. If he didn’t believe, why else was he buried here in the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery? Because it was all true.
A ten-foot stone pillar loomed down at us as we arrived at the main entrance to the cemetery, secured by a thick iron gate. The sign Sleepy Hollow Cemetery was etched on a stone plate to the left of the gate.
Logan drove his BMW to the entrance and parked there. As soon as the car stopped moving, I popped open my door and got out.
“It’s locked,” I said as I made my way to the gate, seeing the deadbolt lock and keyhole on the black iron gate doors. I wasn’t surprised. Most cemeteries were closed after dark—not because the employees were done for the day, but because of what lingered there when the sun went down. You’d be a fool to stay after dark.
Cemeteries were the breeding grounds for demons, for ghosts, for long-lost souls, and the not-so-quite-dead, especially ghouls. Ghouls feasted on the flesh of the dead. There was always a ghoul or two in a cemetery. And one this size, hell, there were probably hundreds.
That was why the humans made walls around cemeteries. It wasn’t to keep the humans from climbing in. It was to keep the ghouls from coming out. Thankfully, ghouls had the intellect of a rock, so a wall usually deterred them. Usually.
“Having second thoughts?” inquired Faris next to me just as Logan came around my other side.
“Give me a second.” I pulled out a pen from my bag, drew the “unlock” sigil next to the keyhole, which looked like an upside-down key within a five-point star, and said the spell. There was a rush of energy and then a click and sound of metal sliding. I pulled on the gate. “Open sesame,” I said with a smile and swung the gate’s door open.
“Here,” I heard Logan say, and I turned around. Two shovels swung in his hands, and he held one toward Faris. “Here. Take it.”
Faris made a face. “What do I look like? T
he help? Have you seen these manicured fingers? See how soft my skin is?” he produced his hands. “That’s because I don’t dig. Ever. Mostly, I just sit around and look pretty.”
“If we both dig, it’ll go a lot faster, Faris,” said Logan, as though it was a struggled to call the mid-demon by his name. “And I’m not asking Samantha to do it. This is a man’s job.” I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted or flattered. I opted for the latter.
Faris’s face pulled in a grin. “I’m not a man, Boy Scout.”
“For the love of God,” I grabbed the shovel. “I’ll dig.” Though the only time I ever used a shovel was to smack a garden gnome that had tried to eat my neighbor’s cat.
“Excellent.” Faris straightened and strolled past the gates. Part of me wanted to smack him across the head with my shovel, but he was out of arm’s length. I’d get him later.
With my shovel in my grip, I followed Faris and Logan down a paved lane, lined by trees and shrubs, leading to the inside of the cemetery. It was by far the largest cemetery I’d ever seen. Rolling hills of headstones stretched as far as the eye could see in a forest of gravestones, headstones, simple plots and large temples, obelisks, mammoth statues of angels and other celestial beings.
“This place is huge,” I said, staring out at all the headstones.
“Ninety acres,” said the mid-demon.
I turned and looked at the mid-demon. “Not bad, Faris. I’m impressed.”
The mid-demon beamed. “I’m so far ahead of myself, I can’t even see me.”
I laughed. Logan laughed. We were off to a good start.
We continued on the path for another five minutes, the last of the light dimming with every minute. The place was a maze. If you were unlucky enough to get trapped here at night, you’d never get out. “Where to, Sherlock?” I said, staring at a headstone with a creepy baby face carved into the granite.
Faris kept his gaze straight ahead. “Just down the next slope and to the right. The old broads aren’t ‘technically’ buried in this cemetery, per se. The Sleepy Hollow Cemetery didn’t even exist back then. They’re just on the outskirts. Not far.”
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