“I—” he croaks.
“What …” Christine says behind us.
As easy as it went in, I pull the knife out at the same time as I raise my free hand, the hex already leaving my lips. “Placidus!”
She’s too fast. She’s vanished by the time the hex reaches the spot she just inhabited. Merde. Asher collapses to the ground as a gust of my wind knocks Nathan onto the roof, momentarily out of danger. I’m not. My husband barely lands when I feel arms encircle my torso from behind, tightening like a python. My F.R.E.A.K.S. training, the hours I spent getting walloped by Oliver in those early days, kicks in. A backward head butt loosens her grip while the second assault, complete with sickening crack as I break her cute nose, releases me all together. Without missing a beat, I swing around knife first. She’s not so spry this time. The silver dagger slices her cheek, drawing more blood as her nose continues to spew. Christine stumbles back, more from surprise than pain. She stares at me as if I were a stranger. I don’t believe it ever crossed her mind that I could and would fight back. Yet, she chuckles.
“Kitten’s grown claws.”
“Now hear me roar, bitch.”
Another gust of wind propels her toward me, toward my blade, but I blink and she’s vanished. I’m forced backward by my own wind as well, almost collapsing on Asher. This distraction loses me my tentative upper hand. I blink again and she’s beside me, taking a fistful of my hair and flinging me aside. I roll and roll until I hit the wall with the force of a car crash. Pain. Agony everywhere, vibrating down my spine, my arm, especially my head. There’s a whole galaxy of twinkling stars before my eyes. What …
“Get up,” I hear her say but can’t comply. Nothing in my body will function properly. “Climb on the ledge.” What is she talking about? I shake the fuzz away enough so I can see through the stars. Panic cuts the rest away.
Nathan.
My husband, still under her power, obeys the command, climbing onto that ledge like the marionette he is. I attempt to raise my finger to hex the bitch, but she’s too fast. I feel my arm twisting painfully to the side before I realize she’s the one performing the task. She meets my eyes. One look and she’s in there, tendrils burrowing through my brain. She locks me inside, locks me away from my power, from my words. All she’s left me is my rage. My terror. It continues to wash through me like a tsunami, over and over again. Christine yanks me up by the hair and drags me across the roof toward Nathan.
“I am going to enjoy this so much more than I enjoyed ripping into your witch friends that night,” she whispers. We stop two feet from my husband. Oh, Nathan, I’m so sorry … “Remove your dagger,” Christine orders.
As Nathan pulls out his blade from under his shirt, Christine digs her claws into my lower jaw and chin, forcing me to stare at her slave. “You are doing this to him, not I,” she whispers. “You will feel every agony tenfold, you little bitch, and know this is because of you.” Louder, she orders, “Slash your face.”
It’s as if the blade cuts into my own cheek, the flesh stretching open as Nathan draws it across his face. “Again!” I fear my knees may buckle as he slices the other side. “You stole from me the only thing in this wretched disgusting world that I ever loved,” she whispers against my ear, voice crumbling. “He was mine. Mine for eons before your father ever squirted you into your mother’s rotten womb. Mine. And I was his.
“Plunge it into your leg until you hit bone!”
Nathan complies, slamming the knife in almost to the hilt. “In the other one!” It disappears again into his flesh. My legs almost give out, as do Nathan’s. He sways on the ledge, and for a second, my pain is overshadowed by terror as the love of my life totters backward, about to fall. “Stand up straight!” Christine orders. Somehow Nathan finds equilibrium and obeys his master. “You do not get off that easy, little girl,” she hisses into my ear. “Now throw Anna your dagger!”
I feel his torture as he removes the blade from so deep inside his leg and fear I may vomit again. The knife lands at my feet. “Pick it up.” My body obeys, taking the blade in my hands, my husband’s blood now literally on my hands. Christine steps in front of me, her eyes and cheeks saturated with blood still falling. She looks so sad, so pathetic, so young just now. That pitiful whore passed around from master to master, used and abused until one pinprick of light found its way into her life. She chased it for centuries, and I stole it from her. Twice. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
The rivulets of tears continue to flow as she meets my eyes. “This will not end tonight, Anna. I will leave here and even if it takes me years, know I will find your children, and the tortures you face this night will be lullabies compared to the wrath I shall inflict upon them. Then I shall turn them to continue my retribution for centuries to come, I swear to whomever is listening, I will. Tales of their agony will be legendary. I owe you that much and more.”
Move your arm, Anna, I will myself. Move it. Move …
“Join your husband on the ledge, Anna.”
My leg moves forward, then the other, completely out of my control. Please no. Please … I climb on the ledge. No.
“Gaze upon your wife, Mr. West.” Nathan obeys. Oh, his ravaged face. My poor husband. I’m so sorry, my sweetheart. I meet his teary hazel eyes and see his fear. His pain. My fault, all my fault. “Take one last look upon her beautiful face, Mr. West, for it is the last thing you shall ever see.” No. No … “Pierce his heart, Anna. Kill the love of your life as you did mine. Do it. Now!”
No. No, no, no, no, no … don’t …
I struggle with all my might but my shaking arm slowly rises. No. No … I glance from my arm to Nathan once more. There’s no recrimination in his gentle eyes, only sadness. The blade reaches his chest, and he closes his eyes. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I love you …
“Christine …”
Her grip loosens a little inside my brain at the sound of his voice, enough so the knife stops at Nathan’s rib. Then it’s gone. She’s gone. The oppression lifts. With a gasp, I drop the blade just as Nathan collapses against me. Both pairs of legs finally able to buckle, we land on the ledge, his bloody cheek resting over my pounding heart. What the hell …
“I am sorry, my darling Christine. So sorry.”
My discarded blade, the one I used to impale him still in his hand, Asher holds the dying Christine in his lap, petting her hair as blood pours like a river from her slit throat onto his hands, legs, and the ground. She stares up at him in shock as her eyelids flutter and her mouth opens and closes like a fish on dry land. She reaches up to touch his cheek but hasn’t the strength. “So sorry, my love.” He kisses her forehead. “So sorry.” Tenderly, he lays his lips upon hers and begins to weep. This is how she dies, in the arms of the man she loves as his heart breaks for her. Far better than she deserves.
Asher places one more kiss on her still lips before turning my way. We gaze into one another’s eyes, each set brimming with heartache. Of sorrow for the other. Without a word uttered, I know. For me. Despite my betrayal, despite my truth, he slit his only friend’s throat for me. To save my husband, my children, my life. “Thank you,” I mouth as I cling to my husband.
Asher just nods, one reverent nod before vanishing with Christine into the dark night, the only remnants he was ever here a pool of his lovers’ blood and a swinging door. No matter. I squeeze my husband as tight as he does me. Nothing else matters but this. Him. For now at least.
See you soon, my Asher. I’ll be waiting.
_____
“I brought you some coffee,” Alain whispers as he steps into Nathan’s hospital room.
Always the heavy sleeper, Nathan doesn’t stir. He needed two dozen stitches and a blood transfusion. They admitted him for the night, but he’ll need plastic surgery for his face and may walk with a limp from nerve damage to his left leg. Even when he was waiting for the pain meds to kick in, and I kept apologizing, he just squeezed my hand and reminded me I went through childbirth twice because of him
, so he still owes me one. Oh, how I adore this man.
Still holding his hand, I haven’t let go since we arrived here, I use my other to take the coffee. “Thank you.”
My friend nods. “It is almost dawn. I must go, but Lord Augustus assured me not only will the authorities continue to search but a few of his operatives will as well. Asher shall not get away this time.”
“I know,” I whisper. I gaze up at him and smile. “Thank you. For everything, thank you.”
“We are family after all,” he says with a genuine smile. “Try to rest.”
“I will.” There’s simply one more task I must complete.
Alain squeezes my shoulder before departing once more. Now nothing left to do but wait.
He never was one to draw things out. Not five minutes after Alain leaves, a nurse enters but instead of a clipboard, she carries a note and blank expression. The moment the paper leaves her hand, the spell breaks. Her eyelids flutter as she stares at me. “What … why did I come in here?”
“I don’t know,” I lie with a gentle smile.
“Oh.” Shaking her muddled head, the messenger departs.
I open the note.
“Roof. Please.”
I never could say no to him, even when I wanted to.
I leave the note on the nightstand, tuck in my husband, and steal a kiss like our first before leaving him in his peaceful state. This I must do alone.
“I adore this city.” Asher says with his back to me. I don’t blame him for this rude gesture. Vienna is beautiful at dawn. Asher stares across the whole of Vienna at the blue and orange sky where the sun has just begun to rise.
I slowly stroll to his side. “Me too.” I nod to the right. “Look.” His gaze moves toward the Danube. “Remember the first night we arrived here? You said you wished you could see for yourself that it was blue because it just appeared black at night?”
“So you took your camera out during the day and snapped photos to show me it was,” he finishes. “So I could see its beauty. You always were so considerate. Far more than I ever was.” We exchange a smile at the memory before he gazes upon it once more. “Now, I do not need you to do that for me. It is … breathtaking.”
Though tears spring from my eyes, I smile again. “I’m glad you get to see it. Finally.” We stand in silence, side-by-side, taking in its majesty for a few seconds. “Christine?”
“I buried her underneath a tree in Donaupark. It was her favorite.”
“She loved you. She loved you more than anyone.”
“I know. I always knew. And in my own way, I loved her as well. Simply … not enough. But that did not give her the right to …” He can’t finish. He shakes his head to clear his own transgressions from thought. “I have lived too long, mo chuisle. It makes you forget.”
“Forget what?”
“Humanity. The true beauty of the world, and those who inhabit it. You forget everything but your own darkness, and the quest to find some light in it.”
“I was a pale comparison to this, huh?” I ask, nodding at the sun.
“No,” he whispers vehemently. “Never.”
I nod and wipe my tears away before reaching for his hand. Without hesitation, he takes it. Blood red tears drip from his eyes at this gesture. “You are happy? Truly?”
“Yes. I am.”
“I am so sorry. So sorry.”
“I know. I forgive you. And I thank you. For my life. For the love we shared. From the bottom of my soul, my Asher, thank you.”
Still weeping, he nods. He got what he came for, the only piece of salvation I can provide him. He’s ready now. He squeezes my hand and brings it up to his trembling lips, kissing it. “I love you.”
“I know. And I love you too.”
“I am so frightened.”
“I know,” I say, voice trembling.
“Do not leave me. Not now. Please.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I am with you. I am right here, my Asher. I am yours ’til the close of the dream. ’Til death, I am yours, and you are mine. I promise.”
And I remain by his side until all the stars burn out, until the sun rises, and the bedrock beneath his feet is no more. Until he is nothing but dust on the wind.
My darling. My blood.
Good-bye, my Asher.
When I return downstairs, Nathan still slumbers. I climb into the bed beside him, curl up against my husband, and fall asleep in peace.
Let the new dream open.
TWENTY YEARS LATER …
AGE 49
JULY
GARLAND, TX
I LIKE HER.
Though I do have the strongest urge to scoop her into my arms and protect her from this new world she’s found herself in. Poor Agent Alexander has no idea what she has gotten herself into. Even with Oliver by her side, the odds are against her. Oliver. There’s someone I haven’t thought of in years. Alain never allows me to bring him up when we chat. Sounds as if he’s doing well.
I watch through the window as Joe leans in to say something to the new agent, something flirty judging from how red she becomes and the shy smile streaking across her face. Ah, young love. I do hope Oliver hasn’t set his sights on this one, at least for Joe’s sake. My son may be the local heartbreaker but Oliver competes on an international level. He best keep her safe from Lord Freddy through, or he’ll have to answer to me.
The telephone rings again, and I cut short my spying. I grin when I see the display. “Hello, lover.”
“You better know who this is,” Nathan says playfully.
“Martin? Peter? Alice?”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Nathan deadpans. “So, how’d it go with the freak?”
“Wonderful. She may be our new daughter-in-law if Joe has his way.”
“Oh. So, what’d she need the potions for?”
“Vampire glamour. Seems a local cabal have been quite naughty.”
“Some things never change, huh?” He pauses. “You’re the best, Mrs. West. You know that?”
“I learned it from you, Mr. West.”
The front door opens as Joe rushes in again. “Agent Alexander gone?” I ask.
“For now,” he says with his father’s confident grin.
I raise an eyebrow. “So we’ll be seeing more of her?”
His grin grows. “Maybe,” he chuckles. “I need to borrow Dad’s golf clubs. About to close a deal.”
“In the garage, sweetie.”
“Thanks! Love you, Mom!” he says before bounding down the hall.
Shaking my head, I meander toward the fireplace mantel the agent was snooping before. “Did I hear right? Are all your guests finally leaving, Mrs. West?” Nathan asks seductively. “Will you be having the house all to yourself?”
“I will, Mr. West. And I’m all yours.”
“Dang right. Be home in five minutes.”
“See you soon, sweetie.”
Chuckling, I click off the phone. He is downright irresistible sometimes. Oh. Asher’s picture is crooked. “What do you think, Asher? Think Miss Beatrice Alexander can hold her own in our dark, twisted world?” His smile says it all. “You’re right. They don’t stand a chance.”
I adjust my Asher so he fits perfectly among the other family photos and stroll upstairs to get ready to greet my husband. Oh, I do so love these days of wine and roses. Dowson was wrong, they can last a lifetime.
And beyond.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First, thanks to all my readers. I adore and appreciate each and every one of you.
Second, to the Prince William, Fairfax County, and Peachtree City libraries for allowing me a place to go that isn’t my house. You keep my cabin fever in check.
Third, to all the people at Midnight Ink who helped shepherd this book to publication. You make this whole publishing process seem so easy and it is not.
Finally, thanks to my mother who told me she loved the character Anna. That one spark spawned this entire book.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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br /> Jennifer Harlow (Manassas, VA) earned a BA from the University of Virginia in Psychology. Her eclectic work experience ranges from government investigator to radio DJ to lab assistant. Visit her website www.jenniferharlowbooks.com to read her blog, Tales From the Darkside; listen to the soundtrack to this book; and more.
Author photo by Bill Fitz-Patrick.
Table of Contents
Copyright Information
Dedication
Poem
Age 29 Garland, TX
Part I
Age 9 Albany, NY
Age 11 Paris, France
Age 13 London, England
Age 15 Rome, Italy
Age 17 Vienna, Austria
Age 19 Washington, DC
Part II
Age 29 Stoker, KS
London, England
The Isle of Jersey
Monte Carlo, Monaco
Vienna, Austria
Twenty Years Later …Age 49 July Garland, TX
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) Page 26
