Out of the Broomcloset

by Ashlyn Chase

  “That can’t possibly be why I’m here.” Vic turned his head to cough, and tried to hide his dumbfounded expression as fast as he felt it appear. “Your cat ran away, Savern?” He sent her a rueful look, but she didn’t answer.

  “You’re the first person we’ve opened the door for since yesterday when we both came home from work,” Michele said. “All the windows and the sliding glass doors were closed and locked. Bast was here all evening. Sometime after midnight something spooked her and she bolted into Savern’s bedroom. We looked all over for her. We called, put out her favorite food. We tore the place apart and this morning we tore it apart again. She’s nowhere. It’s like she disappeared into thin air.”

  Vic’s forehead creased, but he stopped himself before responding. What was there to say? “What do you think happened?”

  “I want to be honest with you. You might not believe it yet, but once you see more of Donovan’s tricks . . .” She took in a deep breath. “I hope you can take this seriously. I think Donovan opened the door and snuck in last night. Both of us were facing the TV, watching a movie. I thought I felt a draft, but I didn’t turn around to look.”

  Vic stared at the floor and cleared his throat. “Savern. What do you think?”

  “Same thing,” she muttered.

  “The door was locked right after you came home and stayed that way until you went to bed?”

  Savern crossed her arms in front, rested them on top of her belly, and turned toward Michele. “You answer him. He’s your non-believer . . .”

  “Yeah, Vic,” Michele said. “It was dead-bolted. I know it was. I’m always cautious. Even witches can’t afford to be careless—especially with an assortment of zealots and fanatics in the world.”

  “You’ve had trouble from others?”

  “When we first opened the shop we had to call the cops to protect us from a crowd of bible-thumpers. One of them threw a rock through our front window display. The cops had to explain to them that American Wiccans had the right to freedom of religion under the constitution.”

  Vic looked from one woman to the other. “Could it be one of them who picked the lock? Maybe you just thought you dead-bolted it.”

  Michele mimicked Savern’s posture and crossed her arms over her chest. They both glared at him.

  “All right. All right. Let’s say it’s Donovan. How would he get in without you seeing him?

  “He used an invisibility spell.”

  “A what?”

  Michele glared at him.

  He couldn’t raise her hackles with doubt—not now. Time to change the subject . . . “Is there any reason to believe that he’s after Savern?”

  “Only to hurt me. He knows I’d be devastated if someone I cared about was injured because of me. Or he may have thought the cat was mine, but the fact is that Savern could be in danger just because I live and work with her.”

  “What did the cat look like?”

  Savern cleared her throat. “A mostly black domestic shorthair. Her throat has a little white on it in the shape of a heart.”

  “I want both of you to be very careful until I convince this asshole to move somewhere west of California.”

  Michele nodded. “I don’t think you have the power to do that. Like I said, he knows dark magic. And he’s very good at it. I don’t feel safe here, anymore.”

  Savern shot her a stern look. “You are not running again.”

  “I’ll try not to. I still feel safer in Daytona with caring family and friends around.”

  “We’ll think of something.” Savern scooted closer and put her arm around Michele. “You can always stay with Alex.”

  “I don’t want to move in with Alex. He’s usually laid-back, but not when it comes to Donovan and me. He may be my stepfather, but he’s been my only father from the time I was little. If Donovan broke into his place, Alex might go after him with a knife or a gun—and lose.”

  She stood and walked across the living room to the glass sliders. She seemed to be gazing past the balcony to the diverse town beyond. “I’ve already grown to love Daytona Beach. It’s wild and crazy at times, but I like the energy that so many different people bring. I enjoy meeting folks from all over, and then when they leave I appreciate the quiet moments too. The week-to-week variation keeps this town fun and funky.”

  She turned and tears shimmered in her eyes. “Then again, staying here could put my loved ones in danger. Maybe New Orleans . . .”

  Savern leaned forward as far as her baby would allow. “You are not running away, girl. Get that idea right out of your head.”

  Michele turned back to the view outside.

  Vic’s voice took on an authoritative quality. “She’s right. You already thought you could outrun him. What makes you think he won’t find you again?”

  Michele whirled around and glared at both of them. “It’s my life. If I feel I have to, I’ll leave. It’s my choice.”

  Vic didn’t like what he was hearing. “I’m serious. If my guess is right, he’ll just keep following you. Part of his enjoyment is your panic and fear. It reinforces the idea that he has power over you. You have to react to him differently; then he’ll be forced to react differently to you. If you stand up to him, he won’t be expecting it. You could take him by surprise.”

  Michele closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I’ve got to get to the shop.”

  “I thought you were closed on Sundays.”

  “We are,” Savern said. “She needs supplies.”

  Vic watched as Michele retrieved a fat book that must have weighed twenty pounds from the bottom of a bookcase.

  He leaned toward Savern and whispered, “Since you seem to be able to read her mind, what’s she looking for?”

  “She’s looking through her book of shadows. She’ll need specific ingredients and words for the appropriate spells. I don’t know which one she’s looking up, but if it were me, I’d be trying to spin a safe cocoon around myself and all my loved ones.

  “Oh.” Vic nodded like he knew what the hell she was talking about. “I’ll take her to the shop, but after that I think I’ll bring her back here to pack for a few days. She needs to go into hiding until we can track this bastard down.”

  “I’ll bet you anything she’s already packed.”

  “Ready to run?”

  Savern nodded. “Vic, I want you to do whatever you can to make her stay and end this. At least here there are people who love her and will do anything to help her.”

  Vic’s eyes widened. She must have meant Alex and herself. Vic liked the blond beauty and would help her, but love? Savern couldn’t have been including him. Lust was as far as he wanted to go.

  * * * * *

  Michele and Vic approached the back door of the shop. Vic glanced around cautiously as Michele used her keys. Two keys—two locks. He heard the first lock click. She switched to the second key, clicked open the deadbolt and opened the door.

  Michele was about to walk in first. Vic pushed his way in front of her. She quickened her pace and ran around him when she entered the main room.

  “Bast!”

  The black cat in question was scratching at the front door, trying to get out. Either I’m being played or that Donovan creep is Houdini. No cat could’ve found its way here and into a locked shop by itself. Vic moved to the front door and tried to open it. It was locked and dead-bolted.

  Michele picked up the noisy feline and scratched her under her chin. “It’s okay, baby. We found you! I’ll bring you right home as soon as I grab a few important things.”

  The cat stopped crying and Vic shook his head. “Do you think she understands you?”

  Michele gave Bast one last hug and placed her gently on the floor. Looking over at Vic she said, “Yes of course. You don’t think she does?”

  He sighed. “I’m not sure what to think anymore.”

  “Then you’re finally getting it.” Michele smiled and went about pulling items off of shelves, piling them on the counter. Vic s
tood by the cash register and made a mental note of everything she intended to take with her.

  Iron nails, wolf’s hair, frankincense and myrrh resin, bittersweet, sea salt, cedar shavings, sage, curly willow branches, chili pepper, charcoal disks, mullein, witch hazel, parchment, dragon’s blood ink, and one of those black male figure candles.

  “That’s quite an arsenal. I hope you have a bag large enough to carry everything.”

  “I need more candles,” she mumbled to herself. She approached the tall shelves that held tapers of every color.

  Vic shook his head and decided he might as well help. He was swept up in this foolish mission and she seemed completely preoccupied with it.

  He strolled around the counter and looked underneath, found the largest bag available and brought it to her.

  “Oh, thanks.”

  She dumped half a dozen silver and white tapers into it first. Next, handfuls of black, orange, gold, and red candles followed the other ones. She hesitated a moment resting her hand against her cheek. “Oh, what the heck,” she said, and tossed handfuls of blue, pink and purple into the bag too.

  “If you’ll take the bag for me, and I carry Bast, we can make it in one trip.”

  “Sure I’ll do that for you, but there’s something I want you to do for me.” He took the bag from her, proceeded to the counter and loaded the rest of her magical groceries.

  Michele picked up Bast and patted her. “What’s that?”

  “Tell me the third thing he did to you.”

  * * * * *

  Michele’s brow furrowed and she took a deep breath. “Okay. I guess you’ve earned the right to know that. After all you’ve seen, you still haven’t run.” She put Bast down and reached for Vic’s hand. She closed her eyes and just held his hand for a moment while she asked the Goddess for the right words. She opened her eyes but didn’t look up at him.

  She simply stared at their intertwined fingers.

  “It happened the day after I caught him peeping in my windows and threatened him with a restraining order. He laughed at the time, but apparently just the threat ticked him off. He was waiting for me in my house when I came home from work the next day. As soon as I stepped in the door, he grabbed me and knocked me out with chloroform.”

  Vic’s eyebrows shot up as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  She stroked his hand and took a deep breath to get the rest of the story out. “Donovan thought it would be ironic to burn me at the stake. He took me to a secluded area in a park off the beaten path.”

  She felt Vic squeeze her hand. She’d come this far, she might as well continue to the part that freaked her out the most. Her body shivered. “I—I woke up just as my jeans were catching fire. My hands were tied but I put the fire out with my feet. I still have burn marks.” She kicked off her shoes, peeled back the socks, and showed him the puckered, white scars. “I tried to kick him, but he just laughed and relit the kindling.”

  She was shaking. “I need my worry stone.” She let go of his hand and dug in her beaded purse. She pulled out a quarter-sized piece of smooth turquoise, closed her eyes and rubbed it.

  “Don’t leave me there,” he said. “How did you get out of that?”

  “I made it rain.”

  “You . . .” Vic stopped himself before saying something that sounded like he doubted her, even if he did.

  “Yes, I did. I made it rain.”

  “I didn’t say . . .”

  “You didn’t have to. There’s one more thing you should know about what Donovan did.” Her voice wavered as she went on. “When we heard sirens, he said, ‘Next time, I’ll be sure to have more fun with you first.’ Then he ripped open my blouse. He said he’d have me moaning with desire for him, before he killed me.”

  She shook her head, wishing she could erase the memory. It haunted her. She had night terrors for weeks after the incident. “He’s a sick and twisted bastard. He left me there, tied to a stake with my tits hanging out, surrounded by a pile of smoldering brush. Try explaining that to the fire department.”

  “Who called the fire department?”

  “I asked the Goddess to send help. She must have put someone within sight of the smoke.”

  “He thought you’d come back to him after he did that? What about the police? Did you call them?”

  “No. I didn’t stick around. I ran that night.”

  When she looked up, tears stung her eyes, but she could see Vic’s expression through the blur. His jaw was set and his eyes blazed in a face that was clearly flushed with anger. “I swear, nothing like that will happen to you again as long as I’m around.”

  “I should let Savern know that Bast’s okay.” Michele wandered over to the phone on the counter. “Oh, I just remembered . . . I have a tuna sub in the mini-fridge. I’ll go get that for Bast and call Savern from the office. I need a couple of minutes alone.”

  Vic closed his eyes and nodded.

  Bast followed right on her heels as she retreated to the office.

  * * * * *

  While she was gone Vic pictured again and again the horrific scene she had described. Terrible things churning? Why did his heart lurch at the thought of never having met her?

  He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and began to pace. Shit. He wasn’t taking his own advice, the advice he always gave to his guards—never get emotionally involved.

  Michele wasn’t just another client. That magnetic attraction, that kiss. Shouldn’t he have realized it then? What would he do if it happened to someone in his employ? He’d advise them to let someone else take over the case. But that was impossible for two reasons. First, there was no one else, all his other guards were on assignment and he was short at the moment. Second, he didn’t want to. He let out a long breath and shook his head.

  Michele returned moments later. “Bast’s happy and so is Savern. I said I’d bring her home soon.”

  Vic strolled over to her and put his big hands on her shoulders. “Michele, I’m sorry.”

  “What for? If anyone should be sorry, it should be me for telling you. It’s a pretty shocking story.”

  “No. I’m glad you told me. I meant I’m sorry it happened.” I’d like to murder the scum. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

  He noticed a warm glow in her eyes and her lips curled up slowly into a smile.

  He couldn’t help himself. He bent toward those full, soft lips. She lifted her face and closed her eyes. He gathered her into his embrace, moving his mouth over hers. He kissed her several times in sweet succession.

  Their tongues didn’t touch, but in many ways it was more tender and intimate that way. He pulled his head back slightly. Her eyes were still closed. Their little kisses led to deeper ones. Passionate. Desperate . . .

  Vic jerked his head back. “Michele. Is this all right with you? I mean, you’re a woman who’s been manhandled and treated in the worst way. I don’t want to add to the emotional stuff you’re already going through.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I did a spell to counteract any transference of negative feelings from him to anyone else. I do believe there are kind, decent men in the world. To have some positive attention from a good man is a welcome change. I was beginning to think I was a big loser.”

  “You’re anything but a loser. From what I’ve seen in the short time I’ve known you, you’re a warm, gentle, gutsy woman. I’m glad he didn’t destroy that.” Holding her, stroking her hair, his stomach had stopped churning, but now it was tightening. So were his jeans. She was crushed right against the bulge, and he took a step back.

  “I’m okay. More than okay. Here, let me show you.” Michele grasped his hand and led him into the office. He followed her behind the shoji screens. She sat on the futon and reached for him. He lowered himself to the mattress and into her embrace. Sliding her arms around his neck she hoisted herself onto his lap and kissed him with fervor. Desire shot through him.

  Vic was hungry to explore her but
hesitated and said, “You can stop me any time.”

  “I don’t want to stop you. I miss this. It’s been so long for me.”

  “Miss what, specifically?”

  “All of it. Kissing, petting, making love.”

  Making love. Her light touch on his face felt so natural and so right. He was glad the concerns he had were, apparently, groundless. He wanted to have sex with her so badly it hurt—intensely. She was realistic about her fear of Donovan but hadn’t let it spiral into a fear of all men. She may look like a fair maiden, but she was a warrior queen on the inside. As his mind was settling down, he allowed himself to enjoy the anticipation of being with her.

  He could feel her heat, her passion, and he tightened his arms around her. He was a little awed that he was even here with her. His past girlfriends had been mostly models or actresses—superficial to the max. Michele was different. Genuine. Unique. He didn’t usually play the romantic, but for her, it would be worth it.

  Lowering her into a dip to kiss her while supporting her back and neck, he smiled into her eyes. “I’m going to make love to you like no one has made love to you before.”

  Vic noticed a whole new batch of feelings inside. He was experiencing an overpowering visceral reaction. Primal. Hell, he didn’t care if he had a condom or not. Yes, he wanted to have lots of sex with her, but he wanted to feel their bodies joined as one. His gaze locked on hers, and though he realized how little factual information they had about each other at this point, it didn’t matter. Facts were details they could learn later. He knew all he needed to know. He felt it.

  He pulled her body closer to his. She relaxed into his arms and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 6

  “When you kiss me and touch me, I can’t help wondering about fate,” she said. “It might seem like a silly notion, to you. But to me, it feels as if the forces of the universe were involved in this. Like it was meant to be. I think we may have known each other in another life.”

  Something had been drawing them to each other, and he had to admit it was getting stronger. As he contemplated his own thoughts, she continued speaking.