A Witch in Time

by Alicia Montgomery

  With the fog and rain, she could only make out the outlines of the various statues inside the enclosed garden. To her, they looked like big globs of marble. Hmm…I wonder what they’re supposed to be?

  “How is your ankle?” he said, breaking the thick tension of silence between them.

  “It’s getting better,” she answered. “It should be healed in an hour or so.”

  “What happened?” There was genuine concern in his voice. When she didn’t answer, he continued. “I was riding back when I saw Eleanor and Jeremy. They said your horse had run away.”

  “She got scared by the lightning and ran off.” She’d never seen lightning strike so close. It was almost unnatural. “I couldn’t hold on, and I fell.”

  “We can head back as soon as the rain stops. So we won’t be suffering each other’s company for too long,” he said.

  He sounded almost sorry and repentant. And she didn’t like the things she was feeling right now. In the last couple of minutes, he actually sounded like he was worried about her.

  Reed Townsend was such a conundrum. One moment he was cutting her down with his stares and the next, he was acting like some hero in a romantic novel. Of course, it didn’t help that he was handsome. And that he was actually nice to his grandmother and sister. And he was a good uncle to William. Or—

  Stop it.

  She couldn’t start having these feelings for him. So instead, she thought about what Simon told her earlier, about his reputation and his mistresses, and reminded herself that he was a cold, unfeeling brute. “I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you, Your Grace,” she said, using the chilliest tone she could. “I’ll try to keep out of your way from now on.”

  “Elise, I didn’t mean it that way.” He raked his fingers through his damp hair. “And I doubt you’ll be able to keep out of my way.”

  “And why is that, Your Grace?” And she made the mistake of looking at him. His dark eyes drew her to him like a moth to a flame.

  “Because I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

  The words made her jerk back. Quickly, she pivoted away from him. “The rain has slowed down.” With a careful gait, she stepped forward. The pain in her ankle was less pronounced now. “This sure is an interesting collection.” She moved closer to the white statue on her right. “What is this—”

  “Elise,” he began in a warning tone. “You probably should know something about this place—”

  “Now that’s weird …” She blinked. There wasn’t just one figure, but two. A male and female. And they were both nude, kneeling in front of each other on a slab of marble. The man was between the woman’s thighs, his mouth pressed between her breasts.

  Heat crept up her cheeks and she swallowed hard. Then she looked at the other statues. All around them were couples in marble, entwined in passionate embraces. The one just opposite from her had a man standing behind a woman, his hands covering her breasts. Another had a woman tied up with ropes against a column, while her lover knelt in front of her, his face buried between her thighs. All the statues were expertly sculpted that they almost seemed alive, their expressions frozen at the height of pure ecstasy.

  Where the heck had he taken her?

  Chapter Nine

  When Reed imagined the first time he would take a woman to his parents’ secret erotic statuary, he didn’t think it would be because he was performing a chivalrous act for a virginal miss. In fact, he imagined that it would have been a very unchivalrous act.

  “Where are we?”

  Elise was staring up at him, big blue eyes wide, her moist, plump lips parted, and her wet riding habit clinging to every curve. Standing amongst the erotic imagery, she looked even more tantalizing than any of the statues around them.

  “I told you. It’s a private garden.” He took a step forward, which prompted her to step back. “My parents’ private collection.”

  Her eyes grew impossibly wider. “Collection?”

  “Yes. They … let’s just say their passion for one another was legendary. And this was one place where they demonstrated it.” That didn’t sound at all right, and from the way she crept back away from him even further, she must have misunderstood. “What I mean is, they didn’t think there was anything wrong about passion or … relations between a man and a woman.” The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her, so he tried to find words that she might understand. “They were True Mates, and so they were madly in love with each other. This,” he gestured around them, “was one way they expressed it. Most of the statues were imported from the Continent.”

  Her eyes grew dark, and she lowered her lashes to the ground.

  “Don’t, Elise.” He moved toward her, and with nowhere else to go, he had her trapped against the marble base of the statue behind her. He placed a finger on her chin and tipped her head up to face him. “Do not turn away from me.”

  Blue eyes suddenly turned fierce, and he could see the fire in them again. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not some simpering miss you can direct and bend to your will.”

  “Not like Miss Richardson?”

  There it was again, the flaring of her nostrils and the contempt on her face. He’d seen it during dinner the night before and he wanted to test her reaction again. So, he made sure to pay particular attention to Beatrice today.

  However, that plan backfired because she had been occupied with Simon, and not only did that enrage him, but now Miss Richardson seemed to think that he was interested in her. She had been like an irritating little gnat the entire morning and the only way to escape was to take Thor for a ride, claiming his horse needed the exercise since it had been a while since he’d come to Huntington Park.

  When it began to rain, he joined the party again, only to find his sister in a panic and Elise gone. After Eleanor had calmed enough to tell him what happened, she pointed toward the direction where her horse went. His heart had stopped in his chest when he saw Elise was alive—hurt, but alive—as a million terrible scenarios had gone through his mind while he searched for her. Unfortunately, the closest place they could take shelter in was here, a private garden surrounded by erotic imagery.

  She swatted his hand away. “I don’t care about her. Or what you do with her or any of your mistresses!” A small gasp escaped her lips, like she was just as surprised as he was by her own words. He noticed her body tense as if ready to run away like the other night, and he knew he had to stop her. So, he did the only thing he could think of: pin her against the base of the statue with his body and hold her delicate wrists in his hands.

  “No!” True fear crossed her face and she winced as if anticipating something bad to happen.

  “I would never hurt you,” he said in a calming tone. “But I can’t let you believe …” Did someone tell her about Anais? “I can only guess that the Honorable Simon Richardson has been feeding you lies—don’t deny it, you’ve only been in England a few days so you haven’t heard any gossip, and neither Eleanor nor Grandmama would feed you such salacious details.” She struggled to get away from him, but he held her in place. Unfortunately, her sensuous curves rubbing up against him only fed his desire and his shaft went completely hard. “But you must believe me. I have no interest in Beatrice and I no longer have a mistress. It’s been six months since I’ve even looked at a woman.”

  Her body went rigid. “Your Grace, I don’t need to know—”

  “Of course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t have brought it up.” In a completely impulsive move, he leaned down and pressed his nose to the soft spot just below her ear. Her pulse jumped and he could hear her heart hammering in her chest. When her exotic scent filled his nostrils, he let out a groan. God, he wanted her. Damn all propriety.

  He trailed his lips up her neck, across her jaw, waiting for her to protest. When she didn’t, he kissed that damn teasing plump mouth. Just like before, she stood there, unmoving as the statues around them. Again, it was like she was waiting for something, but when whatever it was didn’t come, her lips
began to move against his.

  He let go of her hands, but instead of falling limp to her sides, she slid them up his chest. There was the sweet temptress from the other night. She obviously wasn’t very skilled at kissing, but her natural reactions drove him wild just the same. He slid a hand up her waist, to her ribcage, under her jacket, then higher to cup a breast. When she didn’t cry out or push him away, he unbuttoned her shirt.

  She gasped when his hand covered her naked breast and he used that chance to slide his tongue inside her mouth. Lord, she tasted sweet, like ripe peaches. Her tongue touched his tentatively, sending his body aflame. Her nipple puckered between his fingers and when the scent of her arousal hit his nose, he pressed the bulge between his legs against her. As if on instinct, her legs parted, allowing him to brush his erection against her core.

  This was madness. He had to stop before he compromised her. But his wolf urged him on. Wanted him to make her theirs and bind her to them. Watch her belly grow large with their pup and—

  No. Not again. He would not make the same mistake again. Of giving his trust and his heart to another woman.

  He pulled away from her, cursing himself silently for letting things get too out of hand. Elise was a proper young woman. Related to the Alpha of another powerful clan. She was looking for a husband, not a romp between the sheets. The latter was the only thing he could give her.

  “Elise, I’m—”

  “No!” She screamed as she pushed him to the ground and threw herself on top of him. Before he could figure out what was going on, a bright light exploded above him. Heat seared the air as a fireball launched over them, hitting the statue of the kneeling man and woman.

  He rolled her over, protecting her from the debris as the sculpture exploded, sending bits of marble and mortar around them. “What the hell?”

  She mumbled something he couldn’t hear as another ball of fire shot toward them. His Lycan instincts took over as he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled them away to a safe distance. Another sculpture shattered behind them as the fireball missed its mark.

  Rage poured through him and he called on his wolf. There was no time to remove his clothes as his animal burst from his skin in a burst of fur, claws, and teeth. It was furious that anyone would dare attack their mate.

  Like most Lycans, his animal form was bigger than ordinary wolves, its fur a mixture of brown and gray. Its keen senses picked up something other nearby, and as its massive head swung around, it found its target. Standing by the entrance of the garden was a figure in a red robe, his face hidden by the hood over his head. The robed man raised a hand toward him as a ball of fire formed in his hand.

  The wolf sprang into action, leaping into the air toward the robed man. It landed on top of him and immediately set its sights on the man’s throat. As its large maw opened to take a bite, a hot, searing pain made it yelp and roll away from its intended victim.

  A stinging burst of pain shot through his wolf, and because they shared a body, Reed felt it too. Singed fur burned at his nostrils and he realized the man must have burned them. The fur was gone from his wolf’s flank and the exposed flesh was red and angry. Goddammit!

  “No!”

  Elise’s cry made him forget the pain. He looked around frantically searching for her, and to his horror, he saw the robed man approaching her, hands aflame.

  Damn you!

  He forced his wolf to get up, to reach her before—

  Another burst of light blinded him temporarily. When his vision came back, he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating because of the pain or if what he was seeing was real. Elise stood firmly her arms outstretched as something white streaked out of her hand—was that lightning? Whatever it was, it hit the robed man straight in the chest and sent him flying halfway across the garden. Her mouth open in shock, she stood there, staring down at her hands. With a shake of her head, she seemed to snap back to her senses.

  “Reed!” She called. “Where—oh!” As soon as she spotted him, she picked up her skirts and ran toward him.

  “Oh no!” she cried and knelt beside him. “You’re—oh God!”

  He wanted to tell her that he would be fine. The pain was intense, but he would heal. But they had to get out of here before the robed man tried to hurt them again. He urged his wolf to stand.

  “No,” she protested when his wolf tried to get up. “Don’t move. You’ll just hurt yourself more.”

  His burned flesh was still stinging, but it would start to heal soon. He had to talk to her and convince her to leave now. Rest and get well, he told his wolf. Slowly, he tucked away his wolf, pushing it deep inside him as he took control of their body and turned back into his human form. A pained groan escaped his mouth as another fresh bout of pain shot through him.

  “I told you not to move,” she chastised.

  “Where … is …”

  Her body went stiff, then her eyes narrowed with steely determination. “Wait here.” She stood up and began to walk toward the direction where she had sent the man flying.

  “Elise, I—” When he tried to stand, a wave of pain forced him back to his knees, and he collapsed onto the wet grass. A few moments later she came back, her pretty face drawn into a frown. “He’s gone. Burned through the hedge.”

  She removed her riding jacket and placed it over his torso—whether to help with the healing or for modesty, he didn’t know. But he didn’t question it as she sat by him, then lifted his head gently and placed it on her lap. She began to run her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner.

  “What the hell happened?” He looked up at her. “What are you?”

  Her fingers stopped midway. “I … I’m what they call a hybrid.”

  “A hybrid?”

  “I suppose … you don’t have them here in England.” She bit into her lip. “My father is a Lycan and my mother is a witch.”

  “A witch?” Witches and warlocks didn’t mingle with Lycans. In fact, the magical beings hated their kind. Every few generations or so, war would break out between the two factions. But still, he couldn’t discount what he had seen with his own eyes. Maybe things really were different in America.

  “Yes,” she continued. “She’s a blessed witch—meaning she has additional powers—and so do I.”

  “You can create lightning.”

  “Lightning?” Her expression changed. “Oh. Right. Lightning.”

  “But you’re also a Lycan.”

  She nodded. “Yes. I can shift as well, and I share my body with a wolf.”

  “But that man … he wasn’t a hybrid, was he?” He didn’t sense a wolf inside the man in the robe. “Was he a warlock?”

  “I … I don’t think so,” she said.

  “Then what is he?”

  “I believe he’s something else … a perversion of Mother Nature. He’s what our—my mother’s kind—call a mage.”

  “A—”

  “Bloody hell, what in God’s name happened in here, Hunter?”

  He turned his head toward the direction of the voice. Jeremy stood in the entrance of the garden, his expression shocked as he surveyed the ruined statuary and Reed’s obvious naked state. Behind him, looking oddly calm, was Cross Jonasson. His blue-green eyes were also surveying their surroundings, and Reed didn’t know if he was happy or furious that the man didn’t call him out for a duel immediately for being naked in the presence of his cousin.

  “He’s been hurt,” Elise explained. “The lower half of his torso’s all burned and bloody.”

  Jeremy walked toward them and then offered a hand to Elise. “Miss Henney, I think it’s best if you, uh, let me take care of my Alpha’s injuries.”

  Her face went red. “Of course, my lord.” Gently, she eased his head from her lap and got to her feet.

  Jeremy knelt down beside him and clucked his tongue. “Are you all right?”

  “I could use a bottle of whiskey or two,” he joked. “But I’m already healing.”

  “I’ve brought d
ry clothes.” He glanced down at the riding jacket covering his lap. “When you two didn’t return right away, Eleanor and Grandmama insisted I come after you for, uh, propriety’s sake.”

  “Right.”

  “I brought Mr. Jonasson of course, since he’s her guardian.” In a low voice, he added, “Shall I get your pistols out and be ready to act as your second?”

  He glanced over at Jonasson, who seemed to be more interested in examining what was left of the marble statue than defending his cousin’s honor. “If you check the extent of the burn injuries on my torso, you’ll see that there’s no way I could have compromised Miss Henney.”

  “Which begs my earlier question: What the bloody hell happened?”

  He sighed. “I don’t really know myself, but I’m going to find out.”

  Chapter Ten

  Once Reed’s injuries had healed enough so he could get dressed and ride Thor, they made their way back to the house. He instructed Jeremy to ride ahead and summon Miss Anderson to his office, then make sure the human servants, Lord Daly, Simon, and Beatrice were kept far away while they interrogated their guests. Much to his consternation, Miss Anderson wasn’t alone when they entered his office; Grandmama and Eleanor were also there waiting for them. The exasperated look on Jeremy’s face told him that the two women had somehow browbeaten his Beta into telling them what he knew and now refused to leave the matter to the men.

  “I was worried that you—my own grandson—was going to sabotage all my work with Miss Henney,” the dowager duchess began. “Going after her by yourself like that—you could have ruined her, you know.” She tutted at him. “But thankfully, Mr. Jonasson doesn’t seem to want your head, which leads me to believe that nothing inappropriate happened.”

  He almost wanted to laugh, but stopped himself. “Forgive me, Grandmama. I was worried for Miss Henney. I was told she had never ridden a horse before. No one knows the grounds better than I, so I thought I would have the best chance in finding her.”