Every Witch Demon but Mine (Maeren Series Book 1)

by Mercedes Jade

  It was the lie they fed everyone. Elizabeth nodded. She edged towards the door, holding the books in front of her like a shield.

  “You don’t even have enough air to blow a door open,” Victoria said.

  She internally winced. How embarrassing that her squeezing into the library had been witnessed.

  Victoria took a step towards Elizabeth. She gave Elizabeth a little push back toward Victor.

  Victor caught her with harmless, shielded blue fire and held on.

  The flicker of flames sent her skin crawling. Lightning pricked her arms to shield back and defend.

  “Not even enough magic to feed a baby vampire and you flirted with a demon?” Victoria accused, boxing her between them.

  Elizabeth threw the books at Victoria.

  The heavy tomes smacked into Victoria’s green fire shield and thumped onto the floor for the second time.

  Elizabeth felt Daemon’s claiming tattoo flare with a burning sensation as she reached for her lightning.

  She hesitated, knowing that to use her magic was to risk everything. There had to be a way to calm the situation.

  Fire-breathers were so hot-headed.

  “Confess Liz. Who sent you?” Victor demanded.

  Victoria looked fantastically angry as her green-shield went down. It was a good thing William’s healing books were doubles because his sister had incinerated them.

  She needed a flash to distract the twins. If only she had her air charged, she could have blown all the books out of their bookcases, poltergeist style.

  Victor's hands slid off her morning coat from behind. His fingers slipped down her bared shoulders, before trapping her arms to her sides.

  The next second, she was free as Victor dropped her like he had been burned himself.

  “Daemon claimed her,” he told his sister.

  The door to the library burst open with air.

  Fog and ninja swiftness hid the twins. The door swung back closed on its hinges, keeping the pithy exclamation of surprise from Elizabeth's lips private.

  “Flaming balls!”

  She may as well save her breath for explanations to her mother.

  Where There is Smoke

  By the time Elizabeth made her way to the hallway from the library, it was almost empty.

  She swung her gaze in the other direction and caught sight of a large, hulking vampire.

  He was hidden in the shadows.

  The sudden realization that she wasn’t alone nearly sent her scrambling back through the library doors like a ninny. This was ridiculous. She staked rogue vampires and demons on the regular!

  Prince Phillip, of the unruly blonde mane and beastly strong body hidden under the civilized trappings of his rank, stepped forward.

  He smiled at her with easy friendliness.

  She stiffened up her backbone.

  Had he been spying? Was it his air that had frightened off the twins?

  “Hello, again, Prince Phillip,” she greeted and then returned his toothsome smile. “Did you see which direction your sister just went?”

  “Victoria is the type to find you when she’s needed, not the other way around,” Phillip cryptically answered.

  His eyes dropped to her bare shoulder.

  Whoops.

  “Is there something I can do to help you, Lady Elizabeth?” he pointedly ask, staring at what Victor had revealed.

  Her skin still burned where Victor had brushed his fingers against Daemon’s claiming tattoo. The jacket itched as she shrugged it back on, cutting off Phillip’s view of her claim.

  She was surprised Phillip hadn’t mentioned it directly, although it was clear he saw it.

  Whatever Victor had done when he touched her skin had set off some sort of reaction.

  At first, she had thought the air to open the library doors had come from the tattoo.

  Now, she had another suspect in the vicinity to question.

  “A little grease on the door hinges would go a long way, Prince Phillip. I like to read but it seems I’m the only one with a book habit to try to access the library in a long time,” she replied to his inquiry, acting oblivious to the claim he’d spotted but not mentioned. “Do you know how I can get a servant—?”

  “I can take care of it,” Phillip interrupted, impatient with her jabbering.

  He stepped close.

  The hair stood up at the back of her neck as if she could feel the dangerous power radiating off of him from the short distance separating them.

  Nonsense! Fire didn’t work like that. They would have to touch.

  She was feeling nervous because he was a fire prince. They were all alone in the hallway. She had nowhere to go unless she wanted to make a cowardly retreat.

  It seemed almost inappropriate for him to approach her alone, although she wouldn’t have thought twice about a stranger standing this close to her in the human realm. Crowding was normal there.

  Phillip wasn’t human and they were in the castle where he’d one day be king.

  He should be more careful who he let get close to him. Where were the servants in this castle? Shouldn’t there be guards trailing behind the crown prince?

  She sighed, knowing it wasn’t her place to protect him. He was a strong fire prince. She would just turn his help down and he would go away.

  He probably was only being charming by making the offer to help her, anyway. That made more sense.

  “I don’t want to put you out. If you can tell me where I can find the appropriate servant, or even where you keep the WD40, I’ll do it myself. Witches living on their own have to develop some handyman survival skills,” she joked.

  He took another step towards her and she had to crank her neck to maintain eye contact.

  Perhaps, she should invest in heels, like her mother, if she was going to be having more dealings with the taller-than-average vampire princes.

  Daemon had her horizontal or in his arms for most of their interactions thus far, making their differences in height less obvious.

  Jill’s fake swain looked like he would crush her with his big, rough hands if he tried to embrace her.

  Not that she was planning to get that close.

  She took a single step back.

  Phillip immediately halted. Now, it was awkward.

  “Jill mentioned that she shares a cottage with you and your mother. Is that where you learned to grease doors with WD40? That stuff’s like black gold in Maeren. The servants keep it under lock and key here. Wherever did you acquire such marvellous, human-manufactured grease?”

  Well, crap.

  Phillip may have given an air of indifference earlier when she had talked to him at breakfast, but that didn’t mean he was inattentive.

  She looked down and debated which lie to tell him. Something that he couldn’t verify easily would be best.

  “You’ll have to ask my mother,” she lamely replied.

  “I intend to,” Phillip said, taking another step forward. His big, polished shoes coming closer had her snapping her gaze back up. “Our steward would love to hear about her supply source.”

  He was so damn persistent! She needed space to think. Room to escape.

  With another friendly smile, he started reaching out to her.

  No! She didn’t want him touching her with her lightning so close to the surface. It was too risky.

  She sucked her lightning into her chest and quickly retreated. Unluckily, her heel hit the first stair leading up to the library’s grand entrance, making her stumble before she caught herself.

  Phillip quickly took advantage. He reached over her shoulder to grab one of the doors, still left open from the blast of air earlier.

  That was what he’d been aiming for, not to touch her. She was such a stupid ninny, shying at the slightest move.

  “I-I should get going,” Elizabeth said. Who cared if she sounded like a coward. Retreat was the greatest priority right now.

  He was blocking her in with his body and the heavy door on
one side. She tried a sideways shuffle to escape the other way.

  He leaned purposefully into her path.

  She just barely held in a growl of frustration and redirected her shuffle the other way.

  “Could you possibly put your air to good use and shut the doors? They’re so heavy,” she whined, doing her best to sound weak.

  She could slip away after he got to show off his power.

  “Stop!” he suddenly ordered her.

  She froze like a mouse caught a few feet from its hiding hole by the cat.

  “Is that . . . smoke I smell?” Phillip asked.

  He took another step forward.

  Oh, nuts. This was the fault of the youngest prince and princess. They had to go make a mess and leave her to clean it up.

  Think, think! What to say? It wasn’t as if she could really hide this from a fire prince. Even she could smell the smoke from here.

  Her feet climbed the steps backwards in an awkward fashion, feeling for the rise with her heels.

  It brought her up to the level of Phillip’s shoulders by the time she was on the upper landing of the three steps.

  “Elizabeth, please move away from the door,” he ordered, although it was soft and polite.

  Not until she had given him an explanation.

  “T-there was a little accident,” she admitted as her back met the edge of the far door.

  “Are you hurt?” Phillip asked, taking the first step.

  “No,” she denied, putting her hands up.

  Her sweaty palms faced out towards him with the evidence of her anxious guilt.

  “I might have caused an itty, bitty fire and burned a couple of dusty books. Your sister said Prince William keeps doubles.”

  That got her a sharp look. “You have fire?” Phillip questioned.

  He took another step and pushed the door he was holding open even wider. She stood her ground. He peered over her into the room and then back down at her, waiting for her response.

  “No, of course not,” she denied but didn’t explain further.

  The little lies were starting to pile up.

  Phillip’s sharp eyes didn’t look easily hoodwinked.

  “I’ll need to get the servants ,to clean up. Show me,” he demanded.

  “I can clean up. It was my fault,” she said. “Don’t you have a luncheon to get to with my sister?” she reminded him.

  A look of annoyance furrowed Phillip’s brow for a quick moment, gone in a blink as if she had imagined it.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be there as well?” he asked.

  He reached down and grabbed one of her hands. It was done too quickly for her to avoid him.

  The coolness of his air sent a shiver up her body. It felt refreshing, welcome. She wanted to lean into him.

  His fire was banked. For that she was most grateful.

  He tugged her forward as if in response to her wishful thoughts, stepping back off the stairs at the same time to prevent her awkward collision with his chest.

  They were almost embracing.

  Dangerously close.

  “I have a headache,” she weakly excused. “I would like to lie down, please.”

  The cool hand gripping hers turned warmer with fire.

  “Is that an invitation?” he asked.

  The look he gave her was peculiar rather than interested.

  She still blushed.

  “N-no,” she denied, looking down at their joined hands.

  Hadn’t he heard the headache excuse before? Did this prince never get turned down?

  He was more like Daemon than she’d realized.

  “I want to lie down alone. I’m used to spending most of my time by myself with a book or my knitting,” she added to emphasize the picture of content spinsterhood her mother was aiming to achieve.

  The only thing Elizabeth actually knew about knitting was it made nice sweaters.

  Strong fingers snagged her chin. Phillip tipped her gaze back up.

  Her heart thumped, but this time it wasn’t guilt.

  Phillip leaned over her. She caught the hint of fire in his blue eyes, a light flicker as his gaze swept over her features and noted her blush.

  “Jill said you wanted to join my harem.”

  His touch took on a proprietary bend, his fingers releasing her chin, now that his gaze caught her. He trailed harmless fire down her neck and along her clavicle until the weight of his hand rested over Daemon’s claiming tattoo.

  Unlike when Victor touched it, the tattoo lay dormant.

  “What is this, then?” Phillip finally asked.

  “A mistake?” she squeaked out.

  “I don’t mind you coming to my bed with another’s claim on you but William is more particular, sweet breeze.”

  Share with William?

  Did William share all of the witches in Phillip’s harem?

  Did Jill know?

  Her younger sister got embarrassed when someone kissed on television and their mother was watching with them. The attentions of two vampire princes at once would send Jill into a faint.

  “I only have air,” she reminded Phillip, sticking to her cover.

  He tugged her by his grip on her hand once more, this time purposefully dragging her against his chest.

  It was hot and hard. His own heart thumped strongly as she reached a hand out to steady herself.

  “William doesn’t need air. Shall I be greedy and keep you for myself?” he asked.

  Her sweaty palms tingled with barely restrained lightning as he gave her a full-body squeeze against his heated fire.

  Just like with Daemon, when he got close, Phillip’s magic called hers out to play.

  He was priming her.

  She realized it with shock as Phillip’s hand traced fire along her scapula. Her body responded to him like a long-lost lover.

  Powered blood warmed her skin, ready to be bitten.

  Jill was out there picking roses for their lunch table and Phillip was here, seducing Elizabeth.

  His reputation as a player hadn’t been an exaggeration. Time to put a crimp in his playing style.

  “I suppose I could add you to my harem,” she casually offered.

  The hand on her back froze.

  He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her challenge.

  “A witch with a harem?” he asked. “You may not have fire, but you certainly like to play with it. Perhaps, I should call you storm, instead?”

  She tensed under him as he called her something so close to Daemon’s endearment.

  Shoving out of Phillip’s arms, she tightened the hold on her lightning, compressing it even further in her chest.

  “I prefer you didn’t call me at all. I have a few other—”

  Phillip kissed her.

  He bent himself nearly in half to reach her lips. Her protests were silenced as he let her feel his aroused fangs. The kiss was so soft and tender that it came as a complete surprise when he nipped her bottom lip.

  She pulled back with a yelp, freed.

  He’d never restrained her for the kiss. His hand had been on hers with such a loose grip that she’d easily escaped.

  The taste of blood in her mouth let her know he’d gotten what he’d wanted.

  Phillip smirked at her.

  “Lightning, storm?”

  Deny, deny, deny.

  “Are you crazy?” she yelled. “I don’t even have fire and you think—?”

  “Daemon,” Phillip interrupted.

  “A mistake,” she repeated.

  A mistake that totally saved her ass right now. Phillip believed the same misconception as Daemon: the lightning in her blood was borrowed.

  Phillip straightened up to his full height. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth like he was getting one last taste of her kiss.

  “There’s a spark in you that I wouldn’t have expected under all of those layers, storm.”

  He reached out and plucked at one of the frivolous, yellow silk ribbons holding her bodice mo
destly closed.

  “I can’t wait to see what else is hidden underneath.”

  She gathered all of the air she had left and shoved him.

  He weaved back and forth, with his feet still firmly planted. Such a big, solid male for someone who’s primary included air. More like a stubborn earth lord.

  “It’s Elizabeth, not storm,” she corrected him.

  Her feisty attitude might not suit an old maid, but Phillip had kissed right through her ruse anyway.

  “Save the flirting for Jill. She’s the beauty with fire, stupid beast,” she muttered.

  She didn’t need him getting near when he was already so close to figuring her powers out with his pet names.

  Phillip looked amused and definitely not deterred enough.

  She threw her hands up with a little growl of frustration and walked around him, stomping her way down the hall towards her room.

  “So, you’re not coming to lunch?” Phillip hollered down the hall to her.

  “I have a headache!” she shouted back.

  She let air power her voice so it echoed and rang over anything else he had to say.

  Jill would hopefully laugh when she heard that Prince Charming was really a Prince Charm Them All.

  Jill had been warned.

  Phillip’s suave ways and burgeoning harem were his attraction for their purposes. Too bad his generous nature towards William hadn’t been part of the rumours as well.

  It was a pity. Phillip has seemed perfect.

  She wished it didn’t smart so much that she’d been second choice to her sister. Phillip wasn’t hers. He was simply a mark, and if he had to be replaced, they would find another.

  She wiped his kiss from her lips with the back of her hand.

  That had been a close escape.

  A Lick of Magic

  Elizabeth’s room was cold, once more, without a fire.

  It made her think automatically about the demon that had kept her plenty warm last night.

  She’d owe him one now, even if he never found out. Daemon’s claim tattoo might have saved her from being poked and examined by the evil ninja twins, although it hadn’t given Phillip much pause.

  She walked over to the dressing table and eyed the broken fan from last night, lying in twisted remains and splayed out like a sacrifice.