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Enspelled

Page 4

by Samantha Stone


  “I can tell you I don’t want this moment to ever end,” she told him, having to stand on her toes to reach his ear with her mouth. She whispered the song’s lyrics quietly, aware of his sensitive hearing.

  He looked down at her, his tender expression showing his agreement.

  All too soon the song ended, and the world around them came back. In a wildly different change of pace, “The Wobble” came on amid feminine squeals of approval.

  “You going to join them?” Sebastian jerked his head at the mass of women, mostly friends of Mary or Leila, getting into neat lines, their moves choreographed.

  Briony felt her eyes widen. “I don’t do…whatever that is,” she finished lamely.

  Sebastian chuckled, and they walked over to where Alexandre sat, his attention rapt on Leila. She was easily the best dancer in the crowd. Her every movement was sensual, especially a few moments after which she looked over at Alexandre with a wide grin and a wink.

  “I don’t know if I should pry some of these men’s eyes out or just thank my lucky stars that’s my woman.” Alexandre shook his blond head.

  “I don’t recommend anything that macabre in this setting,” Briony said lightly.

  Sebastian clapped him on the back, shooting her a wry smile over his shoulder. “I think you should listen to the witch, man.”

  “I will, but I don’t think she’ll be able to reason will Cael.” About ten feet over from them, the man in question had a murderous gleam in his eye. His teeth were bared at the men obliviously gawking at Aiyanna as she danced. She didn’t quite have the rhythm and grace Leila possessed, but she made up for it in personality. Briony could see why the men were gaping at her, each of them practically drooling.

  What she couldn’t comprehend was why Cael cared, considering his staunch refusal to return her feelings. His aura annoyed her, with all of his repressed, muted feelings covered by self-loathing and fury.

  Now the fury reigned supreme, growing around him in the directions of the offending partygoers.

  Briony was about to talk to Cael—if she could keep Leila and Mary’s parents at bay, she could prevent the werewolf from bringing a bloodbath upon them—when Sebastian gently took her arm. “Leave him,” he commanded softly. “We don’t like how he is with her, either, but it’s better than the alternative.”

  “What alternative?”

  Sebastian’s lips thinned slightly, but his eyes remained soft. “Trust me, you should only become worried if he decides to pursue her.”

  Poor Cael.

  She nodded, feeling her lips tug downward. This was another conversation she was dying to have with Sebastian, but now wasn’t the time. As if conjured by Sebastian’s revelation, red streaks of pain shot through Cael’s aura.

  Briony stood, ignoring Sebastian’s questioning look, and walked onto the dance floor, where she planted herself next to Aiyanna, right in the men’s line of sight.

  Wiggling her hips a bit, she tried to emulate the moves of the others’ around her, but she became hopelessly lost when everyone started a complicated combination that turned them to face the “beer garden.” So she completed a few twirls, loving the feel of her lace-hemmed skirt swinging around her, until everyone was gyrating without moving their feet so much.

  Glancing up, she saw Alexandre laughing, with Sebastian smiling next to him. Even Cael’s lips were twitching, the rage emanating from him much more muted now that Aiyanna was only in his direct line of sight.

  It was fun, dancing along with everyone else. Briony knew most of her steps were wrong, but she didn’t care. She was relieved that soon, her betrothal would be a thing of the past.

  She’d be able to free spirits again and defend herself when she needed to. Before the hex, she’d loved playing magical pranks. Now, she kept a notebook full of ideas for the day she could carry them out. Maybe I should cross out the one with Cael and that color-changing hair spell.

  The werewolf never had a hair out of place, unlike Sebastian’s short, constantly unkempt locks.

  Most of all she was happy for Mary and Raphael, who were sitting “The Wobble” out. They sat in a corner of the room with Mary in Raphael’s lap, her eyes closed as her head rested against his chest. She was smiling, unaware of the tear escaping Raphael’s eye.

  The song ended, and the couple jerked, Mary moving to her feet as if their short break had ended. Their fingers stayed entwined.

  Briony turned to look for Sebastian, but Cael caught her eye. He inclined his head, and she found herself winking back at him.

  “Here,” Sebastian said from behind her. He had two beers and two slices of cake balanced precariously in his hands. “I hear this cake is half cake, half chocolate chips, so you should like it.”

  Grinning, she took her slice and beer from him. The edges of her piece had a blue stripe of icing over the white. On the white Bride’s cake, it looked as if the towering confection had been wrapped in ribbons.

  Once they sat at the same table as Alexandre, Leila, Cael, and Aiyanna, Briony dug in with gusto. There was only one thing better than chocolate, and that was good sex, the kind that makes you tingly all over and deliciously sore for hours.

  When she bit into something hard she paused, carefully taking the offending object from her mouth and wiping it off with a napkin. It was a Claddagh ring, a nod to Mary and Leila’s Irish heritage. What does the ring mean?

  Wedding cakes made in New Orleans usually had a charm in their ribbons, either real or made from icing, a charm that supposedly predicts the receiver’s future. Briony had seen pennies, thimbles, and a fleur-de-lis found in cake before, predicting poverty, spinsterhood and blooming love, but never a ring.

  “You’re going to get married next.” Aiyanna pointed her fork at the ring. “Good luck to you, and congratulations to the lucky man.”

  To his credit, Sebastian didn’t turn red at the comment aimed toward him. He only smiled good-naturedly, taking the ring from Briony’s hand. “I think this is real silver,” he murmured.

  With what they paid for that cake, it’d better be, Leila signed.

  Sebastian slipped the ring on her right hand’s ring finger. “It fits,” he observed, taking her hand in his.

  No one commented on their held hands, or the dances they shared until the band’s set was finished. Later, they waved to Mary and Raphael as the couple walked to Raphael’s car, decorated with cans. Just Married was painted on its back windshield. Mary’s parents stood behind the crowd, Piritta wiping away her tears, her husband leaning his ghostly head against his wife’s.

  When Mary and Raphael drove off, Briony saw, But they’ve been mated for a while written on the right windows of the SUV.

  Laughing, everyone said their goodbyes, and the mixed crowd of creatures and humans began to thin. “Do you need help cleaning up?” she asked Sebastian, assuming he’d need to stay at the brewery for at least a few more hours to get everything in order for tomorrow’s full workday.

  “Nah,” he said, guiding her to his G-Wagon. “I pay a few people really well to make sure Full Moon gets back in shape quickly after a party. You won’t be able to tell we were even here come tomorrow.”

  Briony twisted her ring for the short drive to her house. Sebastian was trying to hide his aura from her, but she could see what he intended loud and clear. When an emotion was strong, there was no muting it.

  Lust came off Sebastian in waves, making Briony increasingly nervous. This wasn’t what she wanted to see—she needed love, or at least the potential for it. The moment their bodies became joined, sharing pleasure, they’d be stuck together forever.

  Forever was not the vibe Sebastian was giving her now.

  When he parked in front of her house, she noticed the lights were still brighter than usual, illuminating the usually hidden crevices that sometimes scared Briony when she passed them at night. He did this.

  Maybe the potential for love was there.

  “Can I come in?�
� Sebastian asked when they reached her door. His smile was confident, and his eyes were filled with warmth for her, but he wasn’t ready for what he’d be getting himself into.

  He didn’t want to be mated to her, at least not yet.

  “No,” she said in her most gentle voice. Confusion and hurt strained his features, wiping away the confidence he’d gained throughout the night. Guilt stabbed Briony, but she continued to speak. “You asked me to trust you earlier tonight, and now I’m asking you to trust me. It wouldn’t be right for me to let you in now.”

  “Why?”

  She sighed. “I can’t tell you.”

  A shadow came down over his face. “Goodnight, Briony.” He leaned down to press a formal kiss to her cheek before he walked away, his posture stiff.

  Inside her house, she took her shoes off and sat on her bed, sinking into the pillow top mattress. A gasp escaped her, and that was when she realized she was crying.

  I did what had to be done. She couldn’t sleep with Sebastian when he might not want to be mated to her.

  Then why did she feel as if she betrayed him?

  Chapter 4

  THE next day, Sebastian tried to keep his thoughts of Briony at bay while he went over the day’s itinerary. He didn’t mind being rejected—she had every right to tell him to take a hike. What bothered him the most was the fear he could smell on her, a scent he should’ve recognized in the car for what it was.

  He’d been so sure she’d welcome him into her bed, he hadn’t considered that he could have been scaring her.

  It didn’t make sense. At the reception, the witch had been nothing but soft touches and warmth, molding her body to his for as many slow songs as they could catch.

  And then, like a flipped switch, her view of him changed. What happened?

  Footsteps sounded from the hall, too light and graceful to belong to Harry.

  Briony.

  She swept into his office, her form fitting dresses from the past couple of nights replaced with a floor-sweeping skirt and lace-trimmed sweater. Her chestnut-brown curls hit the curve of her waist, held back from her face with a pink ribbon tied into a bow, making her look like a gift.

  Just for me.

  “Now that the wedding’s over, need to talk about Radburn,” she said, coming to stand on the opposite side of his desk.

  Sebastian moved the itinerary his secretary had created for him aside. The bottling company he worked with could wait, as could the new bar on Magazine that wanted to put Full Moon on tap.

  “Tell me what I need to know,” he commanded, moving to take one of the seats in front of the glass bay window that overlooked the brewhouse. Briony took the other chair, her eyes fixed on the employees checking on beer and making precise measurements. Some were sipping from small cups, smiling as they tasted the newly finished brews.

  “About five and a half years ago, I went on a date with a man named Radburn,” Briony began. She didn’t look at him, keeping her gaze on the people she’d befriended over the past month.

  Sebastian cringed. Was she still afraid of him?

  “He was nice at first, and it was fun to date someone who was also a witch. He understood so much of my life, and dating him was easy. I should have known it was too easy; he knew more about me than he should have. It took a few months for me to realize what he really was—a warlock, and a powerful one.”

  Her pained gaze flicked to Sebastian. “I tried to stop him from hurting people, entire families, but it only amused him until I began to actually prevent him from doing the harm he needed to gain power. He’s a part of this group of warlocks called—”

  Her speech cut off suddenly. Sebastian felt his every hair stand on end as the window in front of them cracked, and walls shook. Something malevolent was in his office, and he wanted it out.

  But he couldn’t kill what he couldn’t see or feel. He could only vaguely sense its presence, and whatever it was latched itself to Briony. Silently, her eyes wide and pleading, she began to slide off her chair.

  Sebastian caught her and carefully laid her on his carpeted floor.

  Her arms were straight by her sides as if bound, but her hands were desperately groping. “Briony. Briony, what’s going on?”

  She only blinked in response.

  His heart beating wildly, frustration tearing him apart, he put his ear to her mouth. His anger rising, he moved up so his ear was level with her pert nose.

  Briony wasn’t breathing.

  He tried pumping her chest and breathing into her mouth, promising himself he’ll tear apart whatever was choking her, but nothing worked. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her hands went limp. She’d suffocated, and there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it.

  Ignoring the warning voice in his head that told him he’d only scare her more, he slid so his back was braced against one of the armchairs, and pulled her so her back rested against his front. He touched her neck gently, and felt the welts rising, soon to become bruises.

  He didn’t care that she feared him. His adrenaline flowing freely, the leash he kept on his animalistic tendencies snapped. She’s mine. She was immortal, and this wouldn’t kill her, but suffocation was extremely painful. No one could hurt her this way and live.

  He’d hunt down those responsible.

  Holding her to him with one hand, he pulled out his phone and called Aiyanna. “Please tell me you’re about to offer me a gratis beer-tasting,” she said in lieu of greeting, her voice wary.

  Too often, members of his pack called the healer for particularly gruesome injuries. She always came to their help, never asking for a thing in return. “Briony just suffocated in front of me.” Careful not to make her injuries worse, he felt for a pulse. Nothing. “It’s as if she’s dead.”

  Aiyanna cursed. “I’m texting Heath right now.” She hung up, and Sebastian knew she’d arrive in minutes. Heath recently gained his elemental powers back and discovered he didn’t only control water, but air too. He could travel between air molecules, putting himself anywhere he wanted to be in the world in less than a second.

  Harry barged into the room, his relaxed, light purple hair turning white the moment he saw Briony. “What happened?” he asked, rushing to her side. At the same time, Heath, Cael, and Aiyanna appeared. Heath landed on a corner of Sebastian’s desk, muttered a severe oath, and managed to leap to the ground in a move that seemed almost feline.

  “She was telling me about the man she’s betrothed to, and when she mentioned some group he’s in, she stopped talking and couldn’t breathe, as if something was physically cutting off her airway.” As he spoke, Sebastian’s hands tightened into fists at his sides.

  “That’s got warlock written all over it,” Aiyanna murmured.

  Harry nodded earnestly. “She’s right—I’m sure Radburn had something to do with it. He bound her ability to free spirits who can’t pass on and hexed her. I hadn’t realized he’d gagged her, too.”

  “She can free spirits?” Cael sounded impressed.

  Sebastian ignored him. “Is there anything you can do for her?” he asked Aiyanna.

  The panther shapeshifter picked up her thick black braid and ran it across the warm brown skin of her cheek, her lips pursing in thought. “I know I can heal the residual wounds appearing around her throat,” she said, as if to herself, “but I’ve never tried to bring an immortal back to life more quickly than they would come back without my help.”

  She released her braid, the round bracelets running up her arm jingling. “Ah, hell, I don’t have anything else to do today. I’ll give it a whirl.”

  Cael caught her hand. “Are you sure? She’ll come back soon with or without you.”

  The healer nodded. “It’ll either work or not, and I’m kind of curious to see if I can do it at all.”

  Harry’s hair turned a sickly yellow as Aiyanna put her hands on Briony’s neck. Almost instantly angry welts disappeared. The shapeshifter moved her han
ds to Briony’s chest and closed her eyes.

  “Something’s trying to prevent her from coming back.” Her eyes flew open. “It’s like they put a sort of block on her.”

  “I was afraid of this,” Harry groaned.

  Sebastian wrapped an arm around Briony’s front, anchoring his hand on her shoulder. “Move past it,” he commanded, unsure of whether she could hear him or not. “The presence that was here when she spoke is gone. They can’t defend whatever they put in place,” he said to Aiyanna and Harry.

  Cael nodded. “I don’t sense anything strange in here either.”

  Harry’s hair turned scarlet-red. “I can try to move the block if you work on bringing her back.” He held his hand out to Aiyanna, who took it.

  Together they concentrated on Briony, Harry’s hand on her throat and Aiyanna’s on her heart. Sebastian couldn’t see what they were doing, but he sensed the energy they were spending. It made the air around them crackle with electricity, and he knew both of his friends were depleting themselves. Reaching out with his powers, he cranked up the voltage, hoping it would feed energy to Aiyanna and Harry.

  Instantly, Briony started to cough, and Sebastian held her firmly against him. He’d had no idea she was in this sort of danger.

  Just like that, his plan to get her out of his system evaporated. He didn’t care how long it took to eliminate whoever was trying to hurt her. He didn’t want to let her out of his arms; there was no way he’d let her out of his sight anytime soon.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked quietly, squeezing her shoulder. Once she finished coughing, she covered his hand with hers.

  “Now we know I’ve been gagged,” she offered, her voice hoarse. She didn’t try to move away from him; Sebastian wanted to growl in approval.

  Instead, he looked at Harry, whose hair was slowly turning back to one of his usual colors. “How did he hex her, and what exactly does gagging her entail?”

  The other witch frowned. “Obviously, gagging her shuts her up. There are trigger ideas, things they don’t want to get out, and if she gets close to saying them like she did today, the warlock’s powers suffocate her, preventing her from spreading something they want kept quiet. The hex—”

 

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