Spells at Midnight

by Jenna Castille

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Spells at Midnight

  ISBN 9781419913129

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Spells at Midnight Copyright © 2007 Jenna Castille

  Edited by Ann Leveille.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Electronic book Publication October 2007

  This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Spells at Midnight

  Jenna Castille

  Chapter One

  “You’re crazy, girlfriend. You have to be completely crazy to try something like this,” the small, dark-haired vampire shook her head in dismay as she slid sideways on the couch to face her “insane” friend.

  Renee refused to listen, turning her back to stare at the two empty plates and chairs she’d placed at the door in honor of her parents. It wasn’t like her friend was telling her anything she hadn’t already considered. There were simply no other options left open to her. “Laurel, you can think I’m crazy all you want but I’m not giving up. I’ve got to keep on living.”

  “This isn’t about living. This is about looking to one of them for love,” Laurel sneered, her lips curling back with each word, flashing wickedly sharp fangs. “You can’t tell me you’re not. The timing of this spell proves you’re looking at the nonhumans. I know it’s been a while but you can’t have forgotten what they did.”

  Renee tucked her silvery hair back behind her left ear, showing off the scar that bisected her cheek to full advantage. “Do you really think I’ve forgotten? But let’s face it, very few of us human paras fall into the immortal category. If we want to survive as a species we’re all going to have to start thinking outside the box. I’m sick of being alone, sick of searching. I’m leaving things up to the God and Goddess but I have to keep my options open.”

  Laurel pursed her overly red lips but nodded. “This sucks and not in a good way. You sure you know what you’re doing, at least spell-wise? You’re not going to pull some demon over are you? ‘Cause I gotta say, I’m so not looking forward to cleaning up the spot one of those would make outta you.”

  “I can do this, Laurel. It’s an untried spell but I did the research. Nothing can harm me here.” Renee chewed on her bottom lip and rubbed at the scar on her cheek as she glanced around at the wards meticulously built into the very architecture of her home, checking for any sign of weakness. Nothing human or paranormal could hurt her in her house. Her parents’ death in the last great battle between the paranormal drove home the need for perfect security.

  “So much has changed in the last decade, Laurel,” she whispered, eyes closed against the memories. “So many deaths and for no good reason.”

  Her friend frowned and twirled a silky length of black hair. “I know. The whole damn war made no sense. I wouldn’t have fought in it myself if it hadn’t been for my sire. What the hell does it matter if you were distantly related to humans or something else entirely? Either way you bleed and you die. And you’re right. There isn’t a paranormal race in existence that isn’t staring down the brink of extinction. Hell, things aren’t all that great in the immortal arena. Turned vampires outnumber natural vampires two to one and you know that not all turned vamps come out sane on the other end.” Laurel had a wistful look that tugged at Renee’s heartstrings. She hadn’t realized her friend was unhappy. “But we don’t really know what’s happened in the Otherworld in the last few decades. Hell, for all we know they could be gearing up for the next big attack. Your spell could be inviting over some purist who wants us all dead.”

  Renee tried to push the last image she had of her parents firmly from her mind. Barely in their nineties. She should’ve had sixty years or more with them. But she couldn’t afford to let fear or hatred keep her from her goal. She wasn’t going there. Contrary to all the bad horror flicks released this time of year, Samhain was about hope, not despair. Respect the dead but welcome new life. “I’m careful. You know I’m damned careful.”

  “Yeah,” Laurel replied, not sounding entirely reassured. “I just wish I could be here to watch your back. It’s almost as hard finding a para friend as it is a lover. Are you sure I can’t stay and help?”

  She’d known Laurel since before the wars and trusted her implicitly. If she could have anyone stand by her during this spell Renee would choose Laurel. But it wasn’t possible. “This is a solitary casting. If you stayed the added dimension could cause it to backfire.”

  “Well, Renee, I don’t entirely agree with what you’re doing but I understand.” Laurel grimaced. “I know you didn’t ask me here to give you permission, just some moral support. So here’s my say before I leave. Without magic you’ll be lucky to find your soul mate. There’s what, nine of us paranormals within a two hundred mile radius? Most of those are shifters. You could move to a bigger city with a more diverse population but there are no guarantees that would work. So you’re not going to get me yelling at you for doing something about it. I just want to make sure we don’t lose any more of our kind. So no getting yourself killed. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Renee replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Now get out of here so I can get started.”

  Laurel hopped off the couch, holding both hands above her head. “Okay, okay, but remember, dusk tomorrow and I’m here pounding at your door. So if things work out and you’re all horizontal, leave a note or something. I don’t want to storm in and get an eyeful of your naked ass.”

  A snicker threatened to spill from Renee but she managed to control it. Laurel might have a strange turn of phrase but she meant every word. As soon as she could she’d be checking in to make certain Renee was safe. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

  “Do that. Now I’ll take my leave. Got a date with a hot little attorney. Thought I’d check out his briefs.” Laurel gave Renee a wink and a leer as she smoothed her short, black silk dress and gave her ample hips a shimmy. When Renee smiled at her bad joke and antics, Laurel gave her a sly look. “By the way, if you have any say in this whole thing, see if you can’t find a sex machine while you’re at it. You need to get laid, my friend. Love’s good and all but what’s life without a little chemistry?”

  Laurel floated out of the room, a disturbing habit Renee had noticed in most vamps over the age of two hundred. Finally the door clicked and she was left alone with her last desperate attempt.

  Renee stared down at the myriad herbs, crystals, candles and tools spread out before her on the altar she’d made from an antique coffee table. She bit her lip again and raked her fingers through her waist-length mane as she considered one last time if this was what she truly wanted to do. It was risky and there was no guarantee that it would even work.

  Gotta decide soon, she thought, glancing at her grandfather clock. Midnight on Samhain, the hour that the veil between worlds stretches to its thinnest, is the only time this spell will work no matter what side of the veil my soul mate lives.

  But did she dare try to force destiny to fit her timetable? Sometimes fate had a sick sense of humor and just plain liked to fuck with you. What if her mate came from the other side like she suspected? What if he was a nonhuman para? What if he hated her on sight? What if she disgusted him?

  What she was about to attempt was unethical at best and dangerous at worst. To compel another being to come to you went against everything that a good wi
tch stood for. It was the kind of action directly proscribed against in the Cross-Para Peace Accord—no magic-using being should compel another to do his or her bidding. To bring her love to her, even if she didn’t force him to stay, tread a fine legal line and a finer karmic line.

  She’d tried more benign spells that kept her open to the love around her. No one approached her with more than a lustful grin. Not to mention her friends kept giving her strange looks, probably because of the smells some of the potions left behind. She’d tried other versions of this very spell, even on other sabbats, but they hadn’t worked either. The most she got was a new familiar, an annoying tomcat that disappeared for days on end no matter how much tuna Renee fed him.

  What if my soul mate was lost during one of the battles? He might have fallen beneath a Fae blade or under demon claws. Maybe he had been on the other side of the battles, ripped to shreds by shifter teeth or hexed by another witch or warlock.

  She had to know. She had to know if she stood a chance at love. A skillful witch could live to one hundred and fifty years old or more—over a century of loneliness to look forward to.

  Desperation led to desperate actions.

  She straightened her shoulders and braced herself for the work to come. There were many elements she’d woven together in her spell. She needed to keep her wits about her so as not to forget a single piece.

  First, to prepare herself for the casting she placed a handmade wreath of myrtle flowers and leaves on her head. She then poured herself a glass of plum wine to which she’d added ground cardamom—lust and love combined.

  Sipping her concoction with a wrinkled nose and a grimace, she walked to the windowsill where she’d placed chunks of dried dragon’s blood resin. She sat on the built-in bench and lit the resin. She fanned it gently and let it smolder, both to attract her lover and to help keep evil away from her casting.

  Satisfied with the incense, she walked to the middle of the room and sat down cross-legged. She took a deep cleansing breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth. She completely cleared her thoughts, concentrating on the present moment. No past. No future. Just the now. Once her mind and body felt completely centered and completely at peace, she focused her intention in her casting—love, in whatever form it chose to take. She held the idea, the ideal, fast in her mind as she let the world flow through and around her.

  Mentally prepared, she opened her eyes and rolled her shoulders. Resisting a groan, she stood and walked back to the fireplace. She took the brass cauldron from its hanger, filled it with rosewater and then added wine-soaked lemon balm before placing it back over the flames. As it started to bubble slightly she added cinnamon oil and the red juice of a crushed bleeding heart flower.

  Three minutes later she took the entire brew off the flames and poured it into a large rose quartz bowl to cool. She stared into the mixture as she waited, channeling her thoughts and desires into the potion with pure, silent, dogged determination. After it cooled to the point she could touch it without burning herself she added the last ingredient—a piece of alexandrite from the ring her father had given her mother when they first met. It had hurt when she’d ground the stone down into a fine powder but she told herself it was for a greater cause, something her parents would understand. She sprinkled the precious dust into her now vile-smelling mixture, stirring it evenly.

  Finally she drained it three times through cheesecloth, leaving only a muddy-colored liquid behind. She stripped out of the long white robe she wore but left the myrtle that crowned her head and waited.

  When the clock struck midnight she took the liquid and coated herself from head to foot. Every last inch of her body was covered in her noxious-smelling, unorthodox potion, a mixture of what she considered the most powerful love- and lust-attracting herbs.

  This finished, she knelt in the center of the room, her heart opened and tears filling her eyes.

  Please God and Goddess grant to me my most heartfelt request. Please bring to me the one person in all the worlds meant to live by my side. Human para or nonhuman I do not care, as long as I am loved truly and well.

  She remained there beseeching the God and Goddess for so many hours her knees ached. Finally too exhausted to do even that, she rose from her silent plea. Mind nearly blank, she took a damp towel to wipe off the worst of her concoction before falling into her bed and into a deep, numbing sleep.

  Chapter Two

  Warm wet heat slid across her clit, threatening to drag her into full consciousness. A skillful tongue lapped over her labia before teasing her again with a quick, flicking tip. Renee moaned and wiggled as her placid dream shot straight into pure eroticism. She tossed in her bed and reached out for her dream lover, needing an anchor. Her fingers sank deep into thick, riotous curls that snaked around her fingertips and slid under her nails. In response that skillful tongue lapped at her aching pussy and stabbed playfully into the swollen, leaking slit that begged for attention. A brutal shot of arousal bowed her body.

  “Goddess,” Renee cried, eyes scrunched closed against the threat of reality intruding on this wonderful dream. How long had it been since she had a lover play her body? She bucked forward, deeper into the warmth, as the scent of a thousand autumn nights embraced her.

  A rich, rumbling voice chuckled in the darkness as that wonderful mouth moved away from her and left her whimpering. “Not quite, lover,” a deep voice purred, “but thank you for the compliment.”

  Then the moist embrace closed over her clit again, mercilessly taking her further into carnal delirium. The flicking motion along with the hard suckling pressure against her aching flesh sent her soaring toward orgasm at record speed. It had been so long since another person met her desires. But this mystery lover of her dream’s creation read her needs like no real man ever had or ever could. Bringing her so close. So close.

  “Ahh!” Renee cried out, words impossible in the face of her eruption. Her heels dug into the mattress as wave after wave crashed through her hungry pussy. The man lying between her thighs moaned and slurped, licking up every drop of her nectar.

  Renee whimpered and sagged back into her plush bed as that wonderful mouth slowly released her.

  “Turnabout’s fair play,” that dark voice teased as strong arms slid around Renee’s waist, rolling her passion-slaked body to her stomach. “Time to turnabout.” Yanking her hips up, the man reached over and slipped an overstuffed pillow beneath her. He parted her thighs with his shoulders and arranged her to suit his fancy. Nimble fingers and tongue opened her pussy, piercing her and loosening muscles. She felt like a virgin again beneath the impassioned assault. When that facile tongue slid into her, opening her, she moaned. An unnaturally passionate heat unlike anything she’d ever felt before spread through her womb, pulsing through her entire body with each beat of her heart, leaving her spellbound. Every place he touched tingled and glowed. Her fingers clawed at the thick flannel quilt beneath her. She didn’t realize she was thrusting back into the caress until a stinging slap across the ass shocked a gasp from her.

  “None of that now. Don’t wanna rush things,” the man said, using those wonderful fingers of his to circle her engorged clit while massaging her warm ass with his other hand. “Need to go slow with a tight little pussy like yours. You’ll get it in time, don’t worry. A nice hard cock filling you up. After I’m done eating your pussy I’ll pound you good. I’ll make you sore but aching to be taken again in the morning. Do naughty, nasty, wonderful things to you. Make you crave it. But for now, be still.”

  Renee whimpered, fingers digging deeper into thick blankets, scrabbling at the sheets as she struggled to comply with his command. Be still. Have to be still. But it’s so hard. I need, need now. What’s happening to me? Goddess, how did he make me this hot, this hungry, this quickly?

  Mouth and fingers. Tongue slick and sliding. Grunt of approval, then more caresses. Fingertips sinking deep, rubbing across something inside that made her groan again and again. Making her ache.
>
  The man murmured and the bed dipped. Hands pulled Renee’s thighs farther apart. A hard cock probed at her entrance as thick hair rubbed against the backs of her legs. Tight, she was so tight in this position. And he was so thick. Slow pressure, almost painful, as a wide cock head pushed its way into her. Too full. Stuffed. The man groaned as he slid home, his balls slapping against Renee’s ass.

  “Damn, you’re a perfect fit,” the man growled, rubbing her back as he pulled out and plunged in deeper. “God and Goddess but you feel perfect under me. Gonna make you feel so good you’ll beg me not to leave. You’ll pine for me until I take you again. You will.”

  The man eased out ever-so slowly, making her feel every second of friction, and slammed back in with tooth-clenching intensity. Renee braced herself on her elbows as best she could as he set up a heavy rhythm, fast and pounding. She felt herself approach the edge of pain, only to have it turn into such intense pleasure she couldn’t stop the hoarse cries flowing from her trembling lips.

  A warm mouth rained nips, licks and kisses across her shoulder blades. Strong hands wrapped around her waist to reach her clit, flicking it to the same punishing rhythm he shoved into her. Again a strange, muscle-tightening wave of heat bore into her. Sweet and bitter need rippled through her heart and soul as her body shook at the edge of the abyss.

  “Take me. Take all of me. Be part of me as I am of you.” With those words her dream lover spilled himself deep inside. And the man did something with his hands, something warm and magical. Placing them flat on her womb, a wave of tingling warmth shot into her and sent her spiraling out of control. With a heartfelt cry she collapsed face first on the bed, the comforting weight of her lover blanketing her back.

  Thank you, God and Goddess. Whatever the cost, thank you for this night.