To Wrangle A Witch (Southern Sanctuary Book 3)

by Jane Cousins

“There.” Serena raised a shaky finger and pointed to the exact spot. “Right there… it’s monstrous.” So much pain she could barely breathe, her chest too tight.

  “Okay, stand back a little.” Locke pushed Serena back out of the way before moving forward to where she’d indicated, yanking up a long wooden garden stake holding up a drooping salvia as he went past. At the last moment he hesitated, then taking a deep breath he stepped barefoot onto the dirt. Goddess he doubted his heroic deeds would ever make it into song but if anyone deserved accolades it was him as the dirt pushed up between his toes… yuk.

  Opening his senses wide to the truth, he knew instinctively when he was over the blight, the wrongness that should not be near his house, in his garden. Raising the stake high he took one deep breath and then punched the stake down hard through the earth, pain roaring up through his gut as he used muscles that would have preferred bed rest and another shot of whiskey rather than all these demands he was making.

  The stake slid through the dirt like a needle and with a quick sudden thump a man sized, or should he say, vampire sized, depression formed in the dirt as it collapsed down into the space where the vampire had thought it could find sanctuary during daylight hours.

  Behind him he heard Serena release a long drawn out relieved sigh.

  “Earth… you did it Locke.” She jumped up behind him wrapping her arms tightly around him, causing him to groan. “Oh the Stars, Locke, I’m so sorry.”

  The world spun and Locke wondered whether there were clouds passing overhead or whether he was on the point of blacking out. His next thought was about heaven and angels. He found himself lying on the softest of pillows and an angel with white gold hair was massaging his temples and saying his name ever so softly.

  “What happened?”

  “I think you might have over exerted yourself killing that vampire.”

  “Where am I?” He looked around and then groaned.

  “Are you in pain?” Serena’s worried pansy coloured eyes stared down at him in frantic concern.

  He swallowed hard. “No I’m fine.” How could he explain that the concept of finding himself sprawled out on the grass in his garden was tantamount to him going down and making trash angels at the local garbage dump. At least he had Serena’s soft warm thighs to pillow his head and her gentle fingers caressing his temples. And now he came to think about it the sun felt kind of nice on his face and the fresh air really did seem sweeter out here.

  “I want to thank you for what you did earlier… the kiss… distracting me so we… you, could remove the taint.” Colour rose in Serena’s cheeks, though there were still dark circles under her eyes from her sleepless night.

  “Take off your shoes.” Goddess he was tired, drained and yet strangely content, he had the distinct feeling he was picking up that last emotion from Serena’s garden, weird.

  “What?” She blinked at his request.

  “Your shoes. Take them off.”

  “I…” She looked at him perplexed. “We’re back to your previously undiagnosed foot fetish?”

  “Off.” He lifted his head, visibly wincing at the effort that small movement cost him.

  Quickly Serena toed off first one tennis shoe, then the other. Rolling her eyes she reached over gently pushing his head back down to rest in her lap. “There. Happy?”

  He turned his head slightly, drinking in the sight of her delicate feet and adorable toes. Something inside of him unfurled and relaxed. Funny when he saw Serena with shoes on it made him think she was leaving and every particle of his being, no matter how sore and torn had loathed that thought. Now that she was barefoot again he could relax.

  “Immeasurably.” He sighed, closing his eyes.

  “Locke? You can’t go to sleep out here.”

  “Hmmm… why not?”

  “Well you need bed rest and… medicine.”

  “I am resting and don’t they say sunshine and fresh air are the ultimate medicine?”

  “Please, you don’t believe that.”

  “Today I’m a convert.” He gave one last sigh as his whole body relaxed.

  Serena stared down at his gorgeous face unsure whether to laugh or groan. The man was infuriating, arrogant, tricky, gorgeous, brave, maddening, sexy, funny and unpredictable. And Earth and Sea she was half a breath away from falling in love with him. What was she going to do?

  Lying back she stared up at the blue sky, her mind drifting back to the memory of their kiss. Instinctively she lifted her fingers to touch her still tingling lips. Mother Earth help her, what was an Earth Witch to do when she found herself falling for a slick corporate truth crusading lawyer?

  They had nothing in common… well except for the blazing heat of attraction. Okay so they laughed together. And he made her feel safe, after all he was essentially a warrior in a three piece suit, and Earth he looked hot in those suits. Not the point she reminded herself. She rode the whims of the currents and tides. She was restless and antsy when the moon moved into a new cycle and her feet itched for change when the winds swirled and became directionless. His corporate staid lifestyle of scheduled meetings, deadlines and timetables was not compatible with her restless earthy one.

  Serena watched two butterflies swirl and dance together, biting into her bottom lip as she acknowledged that her real problem was that the time for running away from her attraction to Locke Valhalla expired about three seconds after she’d laid eyes on him.

  Neither of them sought deep meaningful long term relationships. She because she didn’t want to be tied down, needed to be ready to move when the moon, wind or currents called to her. And he because he’d created his pristine, peaceful castle of perfection and loathed the mess, inconvenience and disruption any outsider bought into that world.

  But there was definitely an attraction between them, so why couldn’t she indulge in a summer time fling with the man? A few steamy nights? The occasional nooner? Shower together to save water for the good of the environment? Sure, really why not? She’d had a few short term affairs and hook-ups in the past; this would be absolutely no different from any of those.

  The more she thought about it the more the idea blossomed and told hold of her, was she really going to do this? She looked down at his gorgeous peaceful sleeping face. Was she really going to have an affair with Locke? Then again how could she not? Moon and Earth watch over her, she was going to seduce Locke Valhalla. Soak up every detail and wrap those memories around her like a blanket for when she was old, and alone. Better to regret the things she had done than to regret the things she hadn’t. It was time to wrangle with Locke Valhalla… because all too soon it would be time to walk away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Locke came awake with a start. Confused for a moment by the blue sky above, his first instinct was to check on Serena. Sprawled out on the grass next to him she looked like an incredibly sexy garden sprite, fast asleep, her head pillowed by a mound of flower petals. His second instinct should have been to get the hell off the grass but all he could think about was snuggling in closer to Serena’s warm soft body. Maybe waking her up with hot drugging kisses and then…

  “Well now I know why you weren’t answering your phone.”

  Whiplash fast he turned his head to find Hadleigh lounging only a few feet away on a wrought iron chair she’d snagged from under the veranda. Damn and fuck. He sent his sister a haughty superior look; hard to do when you’ve just been caught snoozing outdoors with your head resting in a beautiful woman’s lap. Double damn these sweats, they gave him no leverage, even if they were designer.

  “Kitten.” He acknowledged dryly.

  Hadleigh sent him a superior look of her own and raised him a smirk, holding up her phone and snapping a quick photo. “I’m thinking this photo heralds the death knell on the endearment Kitten.”

  “Now Gigantore…”

  Hadleigh began texting. “Hmmm… I know Erik’s email off by heart, you wouldn’t happen to know Fen’s would you?”

  “Had
leigh.” He folded his cards and said her name.

  “Yes big brother?” She snapped shut her phone, focusing her full attention on Locke.

  Locke bit back a sigh, family! “Is there a problem?”

  “Hmmm.” Hadleigh stretched her long legs out, contemplating her steel capped boots. “Well I came to check up on you. Didn’t expect to find you frolicking in the fields with little Miss Mary Sunshine.”

  Locke’s lips quirked up at the edges. “Trust me, after the last few days I’m an expert on frolicking and this isn’t it.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Way too many clothes on for a start.”

  Hadleigh tilted her head to the side slightly, studying her brother. “How much sun have you had?”

  Reluctantly Locke sat up, losing physical contact with Serena felt wrong somehow but she was too distracting by half. Ouch, sitting up straight was awkward, wincing as the bandages around his middle tightened. They were more annoying than they were worth. Absently he lifted his top and began to unwind them. “So the question on the table remains Hadleigh, why are you here?”

  “Well like I said, you weren’t answering your phone and I have news.”

  “Well I have some news too, but you go first, height before beauty and all that.”

  Magically a small sharp dagger appeared in Hadleigh’s right hand; absently she began to twirl it between her fingers. “We figured out what the vamps were after at Maat towers and why they didn’t trigger any of the traps we set. They played it sneaky and smart, went for the laundry. Drum tells me there are trace amounts of Serena’s blood there, on some old rags.”

  “Serena’s blood?”

  “Cut herself on the job, ruined a pair of those sparkly shorts of hers. Seems the laundry dudes held on to them for some unknown reason.”

  “Probably to jerk off with.” Locke surmised cynically.

  “Thanks for that picture. Anyway that’s how the vamps got a bead on Serena’s whereabouts here. Put some sniffers out worldwide and tracked her down. Nice thing is they left a lot of trace behind in the laundry and the ducts so we were able to track them back to their lair.”

  “Please tell me they’re all dead.”

  Hadleigh shrugged. “Not exactly. They heard us coming and escaped out a hidden underground tunnel a few minutes before we arrived. We know for sure the Queen was there and three of her court. They’re in the wind but we know where they’re headed… here, to finish the contract.”

  “I suppose the Chippendales have a grand plan?”

  “They’re working on it, we have a day at least before the vamps get here. So for tonight our only focus needs to be on killing the one that went to ground.”

  Locke ceased trying to unwind the bandage; damn thing was knotted too tightly. “Done and dusted Gig… baby sis. Took it out myself a couple of hours ago.” He indicated with his head the depression in the nearby garden bed.

  Hadleigh blinked slowly, assessing Locke before giving him a brief nod of approval; which in enforcement speak, translated to a hearty slap on the back and effusive thanks. “Okay good. I’ll keep two perimeter patrols on the property but the little witch should be safe out here tonight if she needs to… frolic. I’ll send Declan by just before sunset for a security check on the house but don’t let him hang around, if he’s not needed here tonight then he needs to be over at Cousin Cedric’s, convincing him to sign the peace agreement with his sheep.”

  “That’s still going on? I drew up those documents over a month ago.” Locke shuddered at the memory of the awful three hours he’d spent at his cousin’s farm, communing with invisible sheep thanks to the help of a large picture alphabet board. Scary intelligent creatures… unable to speak but they could read and they’d had very definite ideas on what their demands were. “What’s the hold up?”

  “Cedric isn’t sure if the whole vegan lifestyle is for him.”

  “Well he shouldn’t have magically modified his sheep then. Anyone with half a brain would know that if you gave them smarts they wouldn’t appreciate you trying to eat them.”

  “Well it’s Dec’s problem to solve and don’t let him try and weasel out of it.”

  “It will be my pleasure to send the hunk of burning love off to deal with the livestock.”

  “Now don’t hate him just because he’s beautiful.” Hadleigh rose to her feet abruptly, heaving a sigh, in three strides she was by Locke’s side, dagger in hand.

  He knew better than to flinch, he just met her gaze with a blank enquiring look. “Problem?”

  Batting his hand out the way Hadleigh sliced her dagger through the knotted bandage. “There, that was driving me nuts.”

  Locke pulled down his sweatshirt and muttered his thanks. “So you’ll be back tomorrow to tell us all about this grand plan the Chippendales have of how to protect Serena and kill off the last of the suckers?”

  Hadleigh disappeared her dagger. “Yeah.”

  “Remind them of the bigger picture when you get back. Sek and Mot and are still out there somewhere, not to mention Daddy Apep.”

  Hadleigh picked up the wrought iron chair as if weighed nothing. “No one is forgetting that fact, least of all me. If it helps we found all of Xander’s blood at the vamp lair and destroyed it.”

  “How is that supposed to help?” Locke enquired mockingly.

  “Well it means Sek and Mot are back to square one on the blood front. They need the blood of an ancestor to wake Daddy. If nothing else it puts their need for your witchy girlfriend’s blood on the back burner.”

  “Not my girlfriend.” He could not believe he’d just muttered those asinine words, way to play it cool Valhalla. “And I disagree, Serena is still their number one priority since they believe she’s dying, they think they’re on a clock, this is their last window of opportunity to get a witch’s blood and gain some revenge for their brother’s death.”

  Hadleigh went still for a split second, light grey eyes running over Serena’s still sleeping form for a moment. “Well maybe she’ll just have to die then.”

  Locke was on his feet instantly, hands clenched into fists. “What do you mean by that crack?” What the fuck was he doing facing off against his own sister, the enforcer? It would take no effort on her part whatsoever to swing that wrought iron chair around and crack open his stupid skull.

  Except all Hadleigh did was shrug nonchalantly and smile at him. “Just an idea.” Spinning around she headed indoors. “By the way I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night, I like what you’ve done with the garden… very non-prissy.”

  Cow! “Goddess, just procreate already, and don’t forget to wipe your humungous feet.” He yelled at her back. Staring at his sister’s retreating form wondering just where and when his life had so abruptly begun to veer out of his control.

  “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” A husky voice asked from behind him.

  Drinking in the sight of a sleep tussled Serena, her hair mussed, her cheeks flushed and pink, Locke couldn’t help think that he had just pinpointed ground zero for all his problems. “Nothing’s wrong, Hadleigh was just here giving me an update.”

  “I thought I heard yelling.” She looked around dazedly, pansy eyes still heavy from her recent nap. At least the dark circles under her eyes had retreated and the colour in her cheeks was back.

  “Nope, not at all, just reminding her to wear a sweater.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Locke crouched by the sofa, running a hand over its surface for what must have been the twentieth time. The material was pristine; it even smelt crisp and fresh. Yet last night he could have sworn that half an extra crispy freeze dried sucker had marred its perfection. And his floorboards? Where were the scratches? The scruff marks? The clods of dirt and muck tracked through his house by the elite musclemen?

  Earlier after filling in Serena on all the news from Chippendale Central he’d retreated to his room for a long hot shower and scrub down with the most expensive Italian anti-bacterial body was
h that was legally allowed to be sold on the open market. Refreshed, clean and clad in an Eton white shirt and charcoal grey Alexander Amosu trousers and matching waistcoat, he’d kept it decidedly casual and had gone with the black Gucci loafers and no tie, positively lackadaisical in his books.

  Hitting the kitchen he’d arranged a feast fit for a princess, after sliding the tray of meat and vegetables into the oven to roast he’d contemplated his immaculate kitchen with pride. Cleaning as you cooked was the secret. That’s when he’d recalled the mess left behind in his living room the previous evening. Goddess, he must have been more seriously injured than he’d thought to only be recalling that now. Taking several deep breaths he’d straightened his spine and had gone to inspect the extent of the damage… except there was no damage. No marks, no dirt, no debris, no stains, no smells, no scuffs, no… nothing.

  “Did I miss something?”

  He turned abruptly from his examination of the sofa to find Serena behind him looking gorgeous in a hot pink strapless sundress, her hair twisted up into a messy bun, and best of all she was barefoot. Goddess he adored those toes of hers.

  “Well?” Big pansy eyes were full of concern.

  What had he been doing before she arrived? Oh right. He gestured towards the sofa and the floor. “You did this? You cleaned up after last night?”

  “Well yes, I hope that’s alright. With my natural affinity for earth it didn’t take long to get everything back to the way it was.”

  He contemplated dropping to his knees and begging for her hand in marriage right then and there. Goddess, get a hold of yourself man. No doubt he’d frighten her… just like he was beginning to frighten himself. “Nice job… thanks. Drink?” Goddess knows he needed one.

  “Ummm, sure.” She followed him through to the kitchen. “Something smells nice.”

  “Roast lamb and vegetables.” He poured her a generous glass of white wine and then one for himself. “You look… rested. Everything’s okay now, right? With the garden and everything?”

  She looked over her shoulder as the first hints of sunset turned the garden courtyard into an orange and red hazy mirage. It looked gorgeous out there, peaceful, enticing. She closed her eyes and breathed in, sensing no sign of any lingering taint or damage. Her toes practically twitched to be out there as the warm evening breeze flowed through the open retracted doors to caress her skin. “Perfect.” She beamed a smile of thanks his way.