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Warlock's Charm

Page 7

by Marly Mathews


  “Keep your head down and your hands steady, Anya,” she muttered beneath her breath.

  She wanted to stamp her feet and have a hissy fit of monumental proportions but she had to hold it in—she had to keep her emotions in check. She had to forgive the man his ignorance. He’d simply put his foot it in it, that was all there was to it. She knew no malice was hidden behind it. She had to stop being so bloody sensitive.

  Maybe she had to tell Damien that she could never make a life for herself on Vanguard with him. Despite its natural beauty, the ugliness of what had happened during the Bloodbayne Terror seemed to taint everything she looked at.

  It had its benefits and it had plenty of detractors. She loved the quaintness of Vanguard Prime. She loved the old traditions and customs that they had brought back to life on this planet.

  She loved it all, and yet she couldn’t get the bad taste out of her mouth and she couldn’t help yearning for her home. She wasn’t born here like Damien was, she didn’t have it in her blood, and she found herself wanting to throw away the tranquil beauty of it for the raw rugged landscape of her home province.

  Walking back into their bedroom, she softly closed the door and the reassuring sound of the latch clicking in made her smile. She leaned against the door and took a few large breaths.

  She was about to join Damien in the shower when she saw the light on her personal communicator blinking. Sighing, she moved over to her discarded clothing and reached for the small communicator. It looked as if she had an audio-only message that had probably taken a few days to reach her.

  She looked longingly at the door that led into the en suite bathroom but instead clicked open her communicator and activated the audio message.

  Dallas’ voice filled the room.

  “Hello, dearest Anya. I’ve heard some troubling news concerning yours and Damien’s union. I pray it is nothing but gossip, and wish it was easier for us to communicate, I miss you so. I figured it was better to send this audio message than to write out a text message for you. Those always seem too impersonal to me. I long for the day that you come home with your husband in tow.

  “Please don’t throw away a good thing. We all make mistakes, Anya, remember that. You were so happy when you met him. Light and love literally beamed out of all of your orifices. I saw your joy firsthand, I know you love him, and while I don’t understand why Damien had to whisk you away so you could be married on Vanguard I’ll forgive him after a while.

  “You really should have brought him with you when you came home to tell me you had fallen in love—I know why you didn’t—you didn’t want him to see your beautiful cousin lest I turn his head.” At this Dallas chuckled, and it made Anya smile.

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for you when you married him, so don’t make me wait too long to see you again. If you can’t bear to be with him, and you think it’s absolutely necessary that you leave him then so be it, I’ll support you no matter what. Just don’t make a mess out of it, and make sure you can live with your choice. I don’t think I’ll ever get to be as happy as you are, so please don’t rob yourself of something that I would dearly love to have.

  “I’d better wrap this up as these messages are quite dear to send out, and the allowance I get to run the house barely covers the expenses as it is. I’ll see you in about six months’ time—you would do well to remember that, Anya. I see you with Damien. There I said it, I saw it. So don’t you screw it up and make me more of a laughingstock than I already am!” She fell silent for a few seconds and then Anya heard her speak once more. “I love you, Anya, and I’ll see you soon!”

  The message ended, giving Anya a sinking feeling in her gut. She couldn’t disagree with Dallas, as she was never wrong when it came to predicting the future. With her eyes tearing up, she went over to the nightstand that was on her side of the bed and carefully placed her communicator on it.

  The water turned off, and she braced herself for Damien. Was he burned? Would he be angry at her now that the water had refreshed his senses?

  He walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his midsection. The water glistening on his rippling abdomen made her almost weak kneed. He was built like a god.

  “I…” Seeing him in his current state had struck her almost speechless and, it would seem, completely senseless. She felt like a blithering idiot. “The cook is sending up some food for us when we’re ready. Apparently the staff hadn’t retired yet for the night and they had to humor the master while he made a huge mess out of the kitchen. Domesticity doesn’t seem to be your strong suit, honey.”

  He winced and grinned widely. “I can’t say I know my way around a kitchen. If conjured food didn’t taste so damn awful I would have just whipped us up something that way.”

  She laughed. “In that case, I’m happy you didn’t try the conjuring route. I would hate to eat food that tastes like paste.” She walked to him and inspected his chest and face for any sign of him being scalded. “I laughed at you earlier not thinking that the water in the teapot would have been hot. Are you okay?” she asked, running her hands over his glistening chest.

  Tingly sensations sparked through her hands upon contact. Anxiety flowed through her as she realized how close he came to being seriously injured.

  He held her hand to his chest. “I am fine. I’ve been on the other end of much worse, Anya. You mustn’t worry about me. I’m not made out of porcelain. I won’t break so easily. I’m a tough one, so don’t ever worry that anything you could do could physically hurt me. However, you do know how to wound me to the quick—my heart can’t take any more agony. Just as long as I know I will never lose you, everything is fine between us.”

  “I don’t think I can possibly leave you. I tried it once and found myself wanting to come back to you. An invisible force reached between us, pulling me back, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I knew I would fail abysmally.”

  He took her hand and grazed his lips against her knuckles. “I heard another woman’s voice while I was in the shower and she didn’t sound like any of my house maids, as she didn’t have the familiar Vanguard accent.”

  Most people on Vanguard spoke with a unique accent that came from a mingling of colonists hailing from North America, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Australia and New Zealand. It had evolved into a dialect unique to only Vanguard.

  Many who lived in the technologically darkened regions of Europe, most areas of Asia, and Africa still persecuted those with magical talents and so there were few colonists from those regions, and those who came from that region adapted to the language of Universal English, either learning it themselves or using the Universal Translators that every colonist was given upon boarding a spaceship headed to Vanguard’s solar system.

  There were natives on Vanguard who had been assimilated during the colonization of Vanguard. They spoke in their own tongue and when they used the translators to speak a thick accent still clung to their speech.

  “That was my cousin, Dallas. She sent me an audio message to more or less tell me to get my head on straight and realize that I have a good thing with you.”

  “I like her already. She sounds like a smart girl.”

  “She is…and don’t let her ever hear you call her a girl. She’s two years older than me, but in many ways I feel as if she’s the younger one. We’ve always had to take care of her, my mother and I. I know she’s missing me desperately. Which brings me to something I need to discuss with you.”

  “Go ahead,” he murmured, kissing her fingertips and then flipping her hand over so he could gently kiss her palm. He started to kiss up her arm, and she knew where he was going with this. She wouldn’t have much time to ask him what she needed to ask him before she couldn’t think clearly anymore.

  “I want to return to Earth. I want it to be our main home. I can’t think of anything else but getting back there. Vanguard was never my home, and now given the ghosts of the past that haunt here, I know it can neve
r be my home. But I know what I’m asking might be impossible for you. You were raised here—”

  His eyes sobered as he raised his head to meet her gaze. “I also spent a good deal of my youth on Earth. I will go wherever you want me to go, Anya. Being with you is more important than anything else, and there are many Forsythes who still reside on Earth, so they will be quite happy to see me return. As for my dealings here, I will ask my cousin Julian to take over the business reins. All will be fine.”

  “Then, we can go back to Earth and make our home close to where Dallas lives?”

  “Indeed we can,” he murmured, kissing her again. “I love that you have family that relies on you so much. The Forsythe side loves me and all of that but they all have their own independent lives and we’re not big on family reunions. The Ashers…well, aside from my Aunt Blanche, I don’t really want to deal with any of them. Regan, my cousin, is sort of normal, but she can’t break herself away from relying on the Asher Family money and the power that goes along with it, to the detriment of her own life.”

  “Maybe she just needs someone to help her, someone like you,” Anya suggested.

  “Maybe,” he murmured. She felt his attention wandering. He should only be focused on her!

  A loud rap at the door jostled them both out of their dreamy reveries. She laughed at the struck look on his face. “Go and put your dressing robe on for goodness sake before the help gets an eyeful.”

  He chuckled along with her and bolted to do as she asked. Once he was suitably covered, she went to the bedroom door and opened it.

  “Begging your pardon, mistress, I know I told you that we’d wait for you and the master to ring for your food and we should have but the cook is tired and would like to…”

  “Say no more,” she said, reaching for the tray. “We shouldn’t expect you to stay up and cater to our whims. You need your sleep as much as we do.” The food on the tray was covered with lids but a heavenly aroma of eggs and cheese and onion wafted up to her.

  “Thank you, ma’am, have a good night,” the butler said, bowing to her and then leaving.

  “We’ll have to leave the staff behind here at Silver Gables when we move to Earth.”

  She rolled her eyes, knowing he was most likely attempting to appeal to her sympathetic nature.

  “We could take them with us,” she said, walking to the bed with the large tray, “however, I’m not really certain they’d want to come. They all seem to be particularly rooted in life here on Vanguard, and Reeves for his part loves the ideals that the Vanguard Colonists set forth when they first came here.”

  She settled herself on the bed next to him and moved the lids on the plates. Sure enough, fluffy omelets filled with cheese and onion sat on the plates in front of her.

  In lieu of tea, the cook had brewed a pot of coffee for them. She inhaled the robust aroma, not sure if she wanted to fill herself up on so much caffeine, and yet maybe she would need it as Damien didn’t look as if he was the least bit tired.

  They ate in relative silence. Neither one wanted to keep up with the subject they’d left on. The fact that Reeves seemed so attached to the old ways here on Vanguard slightly troubled Anya. She didn’t even know if she wanted such a man working in her house, so moving back to Earth as quickly as possible would make her quite content.

  * * * * *

  Damien could almost hear Anya’s thoughts. She wanted off Vanguard as fast as he could arrange transport, which wouldn’t take that long considering he owned a space yacht that was equipped for the long voyage back to Earth. He understood why she wanted to flee but he wanted to show her the beauties of Vanguard. The hidden wonder of it that had been tainted by such gruesome acts of evil.

  Her own grandmother had come to Vanguard because of that mystical beauty; she’d never known the danger that awaited her.

  This was a whole new world. The evils of the past had been defeated and if he had his way they would never be resurrected. Could he make her believe that or would she just cling to her prejudices?

  “Reeves likes the old ways but he would never do the monstrous acts that the men like my grandfather and great-grandfather participated in.”

  She didn’t look at him, seeking only to act as if she wasn’t following his line of conversation.

  “I was hungrier than I thought,” she murmured as she finished off the last of her omelet. He smiled at her.

  “I suppose I need to give you more of a workout,” he murmured.

  He took one last sip of his coffee and then noticing that she was done, he levitated the tray and moved it over to a nearby table.

  Her hand slid underneath the bed clothes and rested on his leg. He grinned, realizing her intent. She slowly slid her hand upward until she found her target.

  He let out a growl as she used her magic to open his dressing gown. She crawled over him so she sat straddling his body. Leaning down, she kissed his lips. His full mouth felt like velvet against her lips.

  He tasted of coffee and omelet. Moaning against his lips, she broke the kiss and smiled dreamily at him. The sun had long since set, and the bedroom was haloed in romantic candlelight, giving it a romantic soft feeling.

  She felt cocooned in comfort. Being with Damien made her feel so complete.

  “I love you, Damien,” she murmured. Reaching up to touch her chin, he looked deep into her eyes.

  “I love you too, Anya.”

  Chapter Five

  Anya awoke the next morning with a start. Sunlight trickled through the half-open drapes. She stood up and padded to the window looking over the valley that stretched beyond Silver Gables. The land that her grandmother had settled on looked like something taken out of a fairy tale book.

  The side of the bed where Damien should be was rumpled. He had obviously woken early and decided to go to the office to sort out things there.

  She moved to the wardrobe and opened it to find clothing there that was along her taste and in her size.

  Sighing, she closed the wardrobe and moved to the bathroom to go through her usual morning routine of showering, brushing her teeth and fixing her hair.

  She chose a peasant-style top and a long flowing skirt for her outfit of the day. Slipping her feet into sandals, she moved to the bedroom door, stopping when she creaked the door open and heard one familiar female voice mingled with another unfamiliar one.

  She waited, hearing Damien’s voice also in the mix. They were all speaking in cordial tones, telling her that he had invited his Aunt Blanche and the stranger to visit him.

  She moved to the staircase railing and listened closely to what was going on down below her.

  When she heard Damien call the other woman Regan, she decided to crash their happy little visit. She wanted to know more about the side of his family that he kept himself cut off from.

  She quickly walked down the cantilever staircase and stopped in the doorway to the first drawing room.

  Silver Gables was so massive it seemed to go on and on with north, south, east and west wings.

  “And you’re quite certain that no one on Vanguard III is influenced by my father or my old coven?” Regan asked.

  “Quite certain. The Bloodbayne Coven views them as being beneath their touch. They see them as foolish, backward pioneers. However, the town of Wolf Hole needs a new sheriff, one who is equipped with the power to stand against the Wolf Shifters that terrorize them.”

  “Well, they can’t scare me. Practically nothing scares me now. I look forward to finding a positive outlet for my frustrations and right now getting as far away from my old coven as possible is just what I need to do.”

  Anya crept forward, finally earning their attention.

  “Anya,” Damien said, his face lighting up. “You know Aunt Blanche, and this is my cousin, Regan. She’s been looking for alternative employment off world and an opportunity came my way earlier this morning, so I thought I’d contact her and tell her about it.”

  Regan smiled shyly at Anya. She looked like
Damien, except that while Damien’s hair was reddish brown, Regan’s was definitely red. Flaming red.

  “It’s nice to meet some more normal members of Damien’s family,” she said, stepping right into the room and moving over to stand beside Damien.

  “Normal isn’t something I’d call any of us in our family, but I get where you’re coming from, Anya. My father can be a royal pain when he wants to. My mother isn’t much better for that matter.” Regan laughed nervously, casting a wary glance over at her aunt. “At least I can safely say that my father and mother are not in the realm of Blanche’s brothers.”

  “Yes, my brothers were sheer evil. They committed atrocities I could never condone. I risked the wrath of all of them by being the rebel in the group. Fortunately, my father couldn’t bring himself to kill me, or I wouldn’t be here today. He was another vile bastard. A worse man never walked the ground here on Vanguard Prime.”

  She sat primly with her hands placed on top of her pocketbook, which sat on her lap. She wore a sweet little hat that was cone shaped and sat jauntily to the left side of her head. It was decorated with roses that glowed with an arcane red light whenever she smiled.

  She wore the traditional robes that witches from her generation wore. They were bright scarlet, probably a remnant of her life held over from when she was a member of the Bloodbayne Coven. Her hair was completely white and her eyes twinkled like dark stars in the sky.

  The broom she’d rode in on sat propped against the end of the sofa. Regan’s sat with it.

  Regan wore slacks, a top and a leather jacket that was black. She wore the dark color as if she was in mourning for even the hat she wore was black decorated with a simple purple flower that was only found on Vanguard Prime, and used when making mourning clothing.

  “Do you think you’ll like your new life on Vanguard III? I hear the climate there can be quite unforgiving,” Anya asked, watching Regan’s face closely for her reaction.

 

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