Everwish: The Primati Witches Book One

by Amelia Oz

  He paused, his shoulders curling inward. "She wasn't always mortal. She was once—a goddess. I can share more later. There is something more important I need to discuss with you."

  I waited, my brain thrumming with the word "goddess".

  "Um. You see, we think that if we can break parts of the spell, we might be able to circumvent it entirely."

  I sat straighter. Not dying was always good.

  "I may appear human, but I’m immortal, Stella. I was thinking that if I married you, platonically of course, and you remained chaste—" he flicked eyes to the bed, flushing "—that together we can...well, I'm hoping that your passing the age of twenty-one alive might break the enchantment for good. Your ancestors all had husbands who died. Death does not seek me. As your official lover in name, if not in fact, my inability to die, coupled with no child of our union, should keep you from dying as well. Anchor you, so to speak."

  I was stunned. Could it be that easy to outwit a curse?

  "Why would you want to do such a thing? What's in it for you?"

  He met my eyes with great sadness. "Isn't saving the life of my friend's daughter not enough? I would give my life a thousand-fold to have her whole again. This is the least I can do." Tess sniffed, drawing my attention. She’d turned to stare out the window, her shoulders rounded.

  "I appreciate your kind offer. I do. It's not every day a girl gets a marriage proposal. I just don't understand how that would keep me safe from the druids."

  Murry smiled and there was a glimpse of a deadly predator in his eyes and white teeth. I swallowed. "That's not something you need worry about. I almost always get what I want," he assured me coolly.

  Tess joined Murry at the foot of the bed with graceful steps. Her eyes were shining as she motioned towards him with a wave of her wrist.

  "Stella, may I introduce you to the Noble King, Murad? Murry is what I call him when it’s just us."

  The room shimmered as my heart began to race and my jaw unhinged. Murry was the scary Noble King? This kind man with the vague air of a handsome teacher was the demonic vampire Prince that murdered innocent women and children?

  "Murad the Noble King, brother of The Lion?" I gasped, forgetting I wasn't supposed to know that much. But if Thomas and his group were the bad guys, did I owe him my silence?

  They both stared at me. "How do you know about my brother, Stella?"

  "I gave my word not to say anything." I spluttered.

  Tess began to speak but Murad held up a hand and she froze.

  "A promise is a weighty thing. I suspect this source is also why we found you looking for books on curses?" His warm brown eyes were sympathetic and somber.

  I nodded.

  "I won't require you to break that promise, Stella. But please know that if you ever wish to share or otherwise have questions, you can come to me. If you know anything about me or my brother then you know that we are very powerful. We keep peace between the supernatural factions and protect humans. My brother is known as The Lion with good reason. He is the Enforcer of our laws and can be very frightening—he keeps to himself mostly as those who weigh and mete justice often do. I'd hoped to introduce you, but he had other business. Once you hold the position of my wife, no one will dare try to touch you."

  The idea of being a queen, to anyone, anywhere, was pure fantasy. Something I had never, ever imagined possible or even wanted. Unless it was Queen of ass-kicking and taking names. Maybe Queen for a day...maybe I really did want to be a queen.

  "Not only the Lion, Murad," Tess murmured. She held my eyes. "The Noble King's subjects— most of them—will also protect you with our lives. There is much for you to learn, Stella. There is great magick in this world and within other planes.

  "I am the Sky Queen. One of five Elemental Clans of Witches, and we have a Grand Council in a few weeks. You will be presented to the Witch rulers, and at Samhain we will present you to the leaders representing the rest of the Primati world. Primati is what we call beings who were created before man took dominion by the Creator's decree. It means those beings who came from above, first."

  Murad continued when Tess paused, his fingers loosening the fabric at his neck.

  "You should know that there are those who believe being first means best. Humans came second in creation and are sometimes referred to as Ancilla. I don't believe this. The strong should protect the weak, not prey upon them.

  "If you agree, we will be married at the Samhain ball for all to witness. No one will dare harm you under my protection as wife. No one but Tess, my brother and the two of us will know that this is a marriage in name only."

  Taking a chapter from Silvan’s book, I raised my hand. Frowning, Murad nodded stiffly. I noted his reaction. Murad the King wasn't used to being interrupted.

  "So—what is your relationship?" My pointer finger wagged between them.

  They both smiled; Murry actually chuckled.

  "Us? We’re just friends." Tess's tinkling laughter fluttered in the air like gossamer winged hummingbirds. "Platonic friends. You see—your ancestor was my sister."

  "Wait. But if she was a goddess, wouldn't that make you one, too?" Thomas had said star, not goddess but I kept that to myself.

  Tess looked sad as she folded her hands at her waist.

  "We were stars, child. Not goddesses, although our mother was one. My two siblings and I were changed to earthbound creatures with certain gifts and tasked with witnessing our sister's pain after she'd made certain decisions..." She flicked her gaze to Murad, and every aspect of him faded into a facsimile at her words.

  He looked terrible, gutted even. I had a hard time reconciling this Murad with the Lothario who romanced a star into falling from the heavens.

  "But that was long ago. With our gifts my sister and I chose to lead different witch covens. Our brother is rarely seen."

  I realized suddenly that I had maternal family. At least two new aunts and an uncle, although very far removed. "Does this make us related? Like—can I call you Auntie Tess?"

  I grinned and she grinned back.

  "In private. It might be better to avoid the familial title when at court or in front of others. Until you pass safely into the age of twenty-two, I'd rather not remind anyone of your ancestry. There is a great deal of jealousy within the Primati. There are some who will not like you just because you are human."

  "At first," Murad growled.

  "That makes sense." I nodded; my world blown wide open with discovering that a piece of my mother's genetic code somehow lingered in other living souls.

  "Can I tell my grandfather or friends about this?" My thoughts were of Alaric. How could I explain to him that I was suddenly engaged and no longer required his services? He would think I was a liar—not that it mattered. He would soon return to his life in New York and forget all about me.

  Tess folded her hands in front of her. "It's best if you keep this to yourself until after the Coven Council. You will not be able to return to your home after that meeting and reveal."

  "No. I cannot abandon my grandfather." This was a deal breaker.

  "Oh, you misunderstand. Sam can join you in your new home, after the Samhain wedding." Tess clarified. Murad approached and took my hands.

  "Stella, I promise you that Sam will be kept safe. I owe him more than you know.”

  I tugged my hands from his cool fingers, uncomfortable with being touched so casually, potential fiancé or not. Sam would not leave our house, no matter what.

  "Where is your home, exactly?" I asked, buying time.

  "Paris. The outskirts, actually. I had a home built there many years ago, and I hope very much that you and Sam will be happy there. You’ll never want to leave the grounds."

  Perhaps he didn't mean that last statement to sound like a prison, but would that be the case for three years of my life? Paris sounded beyond my wildest dreams, but not from the vantage point of a cage.

  "Of course, whatever you
wish will be reality. I heard you enjoy art and Paris is home to many opportunities. I enjoy painting as well," he offered shyly.

  Tess gasped. "Don't let him fool you, Stella. Murad is one of the finest oil painters ever known. Many of his pieces hang in museums around the world under other names."

  I regarded him with new eyes. Oil paint was a medium I'd experimented with for several years and I had a lot to learn about.

  "Tess is being kind, but if you are serious there are opportunities for you. There's the Paris College of Art, the University Paris Pantheon-Sorbonne, or we can even arrange private instruction if you prefer. I want you to be happy, Stella. Once you pass the age of twenty-two you can be free. Until then your safety and happiness will be my privilege to safeguard," Murad said earnestly, pressing a palm to his chest.

  "I would need to explain everything to Sam so that he understands. He's not young anymore."

  Murad nodded. "If Sam goes, I promise he'll receive the best care money can buy. I’m a man of unlimited resources." Unlimited resources? I didn't want to owe anyone anything. But this offer was a solution better than any I could hope for.

  "And I don't need to leave right away?"

  "No. You'll have a week or so to tie up ends in Portland."

  One week to figure out an alternative. Ignoring the hollow pit in my stomach, I stuck out my arm, hand extended. He looked at it for a moment before wrapping my hand carefully with his own. I shivered at the chill of his grip.

  "It's a deal," I said simply. He smiled and his cool grip firmed around mine.

  Chapter 16

  The Star

  Stella

  ess magicked herself to once again resemble a teenager and brought me back to the bookstore as promised. We sat at a table within the crowded in-store coffee shop and she pulled out a flask. I gritted my teeth against the vertigo that caused my brain to swim and pressed my forehead against my folded arms, the table’s surface cool against my skin.

  "Try this. It's a combination of dark chocolate, orange peel, and hot milk. I find it a very helpful remedy from air transfer when people are still new to it," she offered. I took the elegant silver bottle and sniffed the contents. "You mean it's hot chocolate?"

  She smiled ruefully. "Yes—a variety anyway. It's thicker than your American version." I took a tiny sip. It was bitter yet so delicious I took another pull. The dizzy sensation faded fast.

  "Chocolate makes everything better," I said. This was a universal truth in my book. Right up there with real girls can drive stick and people should mind their own business.

  "Yes, it does. I think I embroidered that once on a pillow." Tess grinned and I couldn't help but smile back.

  “Did my grandmother, removed a million times, look like you?” Her smile faded.

  "Stella—there is no easy way to say this, so I'm going to be blunt. I think you prefer that style of communication anyway. My sister Clara has been responsible for looking after you for quite some time. I just learned that you’ve been given a unique potion to maintain an enchantment on your looks for the last five years."

  My jaw dropped as she continued, biting her lip as she continued.

  "These are commonly distributed in heavy liquids or thick yogurts and puddings. In your case, they were given with the very best of intentions. You were showing signs of being a terrific beauty. The concern was that you would attract a love interest too soon, sparking one of the parameters of the curse, and so the objective was to mask that a bit."

  "Someone made me ugly?" How does that even work? How would anyone have access to tamper with what I ate or drank for such a long period of time? Thomas's mother Carol came to mind, but she had only been with us for the last two weeks.

  "Nonsense—do you think you are ugly? But in the coming weeks, with the drinks no longer ingested, you'll find yourself changing to what you would be naturally—if unsuppressed. Just be careful of unwanted attention. I hope by expecting it you might better handle it. We can't have you succumbing to the charms of an insistent suitor after all this."

  I literally had no words. The list of indignities kept growing. I liked what I looked like. I was me.

  "Tess, leaving out the notion that my looks might be better or worse, the idea of being manipulated in any way without my permission is just…infuriating. I don't like secrets.”

  She nodded sagely. "I agree. Which is why I'm telling you about it. It's been agreed to discontinue the practice, yet I would not accept food or drink from anyone you do not trust."

  I screwed the cap back on the silver flask and handed it back to her.

  "So, what's next?" I asked, checking my phone. No messages and only twenty minutes had passed since I’d last texted Alaric. I was sure we’d been gone much longer.

  "Keep to your normal routine for the next few days. When it's time, Clara or I will escort you to the Council meeting. We wish to leave early in order to do some shopping. I think a week will give us the barest minimum amount of time as we have seamstresses on retainer. We know all the best designers still maintain showrooms for such purposes in Paris and Manhattan. Why, I recall the days when Coco Chanel herself would pour the champa—"

  "No, I mean next for Sam?" I tapped my foot. Tess looked taken aback but recovered smoothly.

  "On it. Assuming he agrees to the move, Murad is likely already making physical arrangements.”

  "I get to tell Sam," I insisted.

  "Of course. I doubt he would listen to anyone else. This is a big change," she agreed.

  "Now, tell me your shoe size and measurements and I'll—"

  "I hate shopping. It's tedious and boring. Let's skip that part," I cut in flatly.

  She paused; her bright smile uncertain. She seemed confused so I spelled it out for her. "That's a hard no on shopping. I already have clothes and I know what I like. I don't need a bunch of people telling me what to wear."

  Her doe eyes widened, her lips rounding in horror before they parted and closed several times, soundless. I fidgeted in my seat when she continued to stare without speaking. Perhaps I was disappointing as a newfound, far-removed niece.

  "So anyhoo—I better get going. Thanks, Tess."

  I stood and paused, but she remained frozen, staring at my empty seat. I said an awkward goodbye. Leaving her at the table, I made my way back to the occult section. Alaric hadn't responded to my prior text and I pinched my lips, considering the odds that he might have truly ditched me. I could always call Silvan for a ride home--my original plan.

  This would be the last time I saw Alaric. I no longer needed a bodyguard now, did I? Perhaps I could still hire him for the next day or so? The idea of people spying on me and trying to feed me potions was insane. But then what if my being near Alaric put him in danger? No. I couldn't let that happen. Whatever happened, I had to protect him from these crazy events.

  When I found the occult section again, a girl dressed in steampunk Goth was putting books back on the shelf. She wore heavy makeup and pigtails. A black scarf covered a cervical collar, matching her clothes and metal accented boots. I patted the tote bag looped over one shoulder, ensuring the books I collected earlier had made the transfer with me.

  “Isn’t it rude when people don’t put books back properly?" the girl asked. I pretended not to hear her. Being sociable had only led to surprises for me this week. I was at my limit.

  I felt him before I saw him. Then his scent was everywhere.

  Grinning in relief, I twisted to spy Alaric standing at the end of the aisle. His gaze was warm before he glanced past me. A sharp whimpering sound rose and I turned back around.

  The girl appeared absolutely terrified. Her arms outstretched, she backed away when I took a step towards her. She tripped over a low bench that sent her sprawling. I tried to help, but Alaric grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled until I was behind him. He paced towards her and the frightened girl ran like an electrified squirrel.

  We were alone once more and I fr
owned at the back of his head.

  He turned and noticed. "What? That was weird, right?" he asked, innocence personified.

  "What did you do to that poor girl?" She was clearly unbalanced, but had he made a rude face at her or something?

  He appeared wounded, touching his hand to his heart. "Me? You saw her. I was nowhere near her." He shook his head. "Portland is so weird."

  "Umm hmm. It's so weird," I agreed, eyeing him pointedly.

  He was suddenly in front of my face, sniffing my hair. "Where have you been?" he asked roughly.

  Did I smell differently? I tried to surreptitiously sniff my shoulder. I didn't recall any odd smells with Tess and Murad. Did transferring leave a scent?

  Alaric looked into my eyes, searching. I kept a blank expression on my face and shrugged. I might not lie as well as my Rom cousins, but I'd picked up a thing or two on how to evade the truth. He stepped back into the main aisle of the store, scanning the area. "I think we should go. Did you find what you needed?"

  I nodded and he escorted me to the checkout desk, where I placed my new tote and books. I pulled out cash, but Alaric was already there, insisting on paying for my purchases.

  "What are you doing?" I whispered as the clerk accepted his payment.

  "While you're with me, I pay," he replied tersely.

  "I appreciate the gesture, but I can pay for my own books."

  He accepted the tote from the bored clerk and indicated I should walk in front of him.

  I stood rooted in place, waiting for him to acknowledge my statement. He smiled lazily and leaned forward until his mouth was near my ear. Tingles ran along the sensitive skin of my neck as his breath fanned over the shell of my ear.

  "No," he said in that bourbon-tinged tone that made my stomach do Olympic-worthy summersaults.

  He walked away with the bag, and I followed, the world tilting as I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. It was hard to refuse him anything when he used that voice, and I was afraid of encouraging any further conversation that might cause him to repeat it. I might do something crazy like attack him again. It had taken him a single word to erode my willpower.