by Morgan Fox
Deep in the trenches of her mind, Lydia had guessed it was jealousy. There was something off about the way Tristan described Abigail. Why would she simply lure Tristan to his death if not for something major? Why convince her mother of a crime that any woman would find unforgivable?
Jealousy.
Now that they’d figured out the why, they had to figure out the what.
“Why would you do this to me?” Tristan asked, leaning into Lydia for support.
Tim rubbed his face against his shoulder, wiping away a fallen tear. Guilt can be a bitch. “Abigail put some kind of hocus pocus bullshit on me,” he confessed. “She was crying, and her clothes were torn. She told me that you did it to her. Raped her because she was different from the other girls you’d been with and you wanted to show her just how different she was.” Tim shook his head as if disgusted with himself. “When I told her I thought she was lying, she forced me to drink this liquid.” His voice raised an octave. “She fucking shrunk my dick.”
Lydia gasped. A poison that shrinks cock? Really? “She did what?”
Tim closed his eyes briefly. “Whatever magic she has…she was able to physically change my body. She told me that if I didn’t do this, she wouldn’t fix me.” He glanced from Lydia to Tristan. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk around in a Speedo with no dick?”
Lydia arched a brow. Actually she couldn’t imagine it, but she did know that nothing stung worse than a woman scorned.
“You didn’t think to talk with me about it before sealing my fate?” Tristan stepped forward, crowding in on Tim.
“I’m sorry. I really am, man.” Tim erupted into heavy sobs and dropped his weight onto his knees.
“Now what do we do?” Lydia muttered, wiping her hands on her pants. The tingling sensation was still active and pulsing up her arms.
“We confront Abigail.” Tristan placed his hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “But we can’t do this alone.”
Lydia weaved her fingers between his. She studied his expression and she knew he seemed just as lost as she was. There was a hint of desperation in his voice, and even more racing with each beat of her heart. “What can we do?”
“I can help,” Tim said, standing to his full six-foot height. “I owe you, man.”
Tristan’s brow furrowed.
Tim raised his hands, palms side up in a show of surrender. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I wish you could.” He stepped closer, showing that he wasn’t afraid of Tristan. “Esriel and Abigail need to be stopped, and if I can help do that…then please let me.”
“You’re right. We don’t trust you.” Lydia placed herself in between them, her gaze burning hot as she locked gazes with Tim. “What do you suggest?”
* * * *
As they drove to Esriel’s shop, Tristan’s chest felt as if he were breathing in dust rather than air. His body was stiffening, and he knew he had but a few hours left to find a cure. He couldn’t help but think what he’d be experiencing right now had he not awoken when he did. He could’ve been placed in a coffin, six feet down, alone and dying.
He shivered, his spine tingling along every vertebrae.
“Hey, are you all right?” Lydia’s voice purred into his ear like an angel whispering to him in the wind.
He inclined his head to look at her. She was truly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he hated that he might lose her. Anger, unlike anything he’d ever felt before, consumed him. Damn Abigail for doing this to him. Lydia didn’t deserve the mental torture of watching him die this way. She’d mourned him already. He hated thinking that she’d have to do it all again.
“I know what you’re doing, Tristan, and you need to knock it off.” Lydia’s soft voice turned stern and serious. “I know this sucks. Believe me, I know this sucks, but you need to keep your thoughts on the positive side.” She reached over and took his hand in hers. “This is going to work. I know it will.”
He nodded, finding her strength a welcoming source of energy. Whenever she touched him, he felt a rejuvenating sensation fill his soul, throbbing inside him, pulsing through every muscle in his body.
“I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Lydia. You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Tomorrow when this is all over, I’m going to make love to you for hours and hours.”
Lydia smiled, the gesture filling her eyes with a desire he would never get tired of witnessing. “Oh, I do like the sound of that.”
“Um, excuse me. Please don’t forget I’m still here.” Tim’s voice startled him for a moment, but made him smile.
It was so easy to get lost in Lydia that everything around him simply melted away. “Sorry, but I don’t really give a shit.” Tristan told him, kissing Lydia’s hand once again.
Lydia’s smile shifted as they arrived at the shop. Night had fallen, but the lights were still on inside. “I can see someone moving around inside.”
“Are you sure it’s Talia?”
Tim slipped forward on the backseat, appearing between them. “Yes. I know she’s here. Esriel and Abigail don’t work late unless they have an appointment.” He cleared his throat as his gaze shifted to Tristan. “When I called earlier to find her, Talia told me that today was her half day.”
“Great. Let’s get inside.” Lydia exited the vehicle and tilted her seat forward to let Tim out. Before he got out of the car fully, Lydia placed her hand on his chest, shoving him back against the car. “This better work, Tim, or I’ll have Tristan haunt you from the other side.”
He placed his hand over Lydia’s, and Tristan had the urge to smack him on the back of his head for touching her. “I told you. I want to help.”
She pulled her hand free of his and stepped back, letting him move. She closed the door behind them, and all three walked across the parking lot and into the shop. Talia was standing behind the counter, her eyes widening as she glanced over Lydia and Tim, but it was the loud audible gasp that really got Tristan’s attention.
Talia rounded the counter like a woman running from a fire. She shoved Lydia and Tim out of the way and stood in front of Tristan, her hands capturing him by the shoulders. “Oh, dear boy, they did this to you, didn’t they?” She looked him over. “I knew there was something off when you came in yesterday, but I was so distracted by your girlfriend’s energy that I never bothered to investigate.”
Lydia placed her hand on Talia’s shoulder and spun her to face her. “Then why did you leave so quickly after we did?”
“I got a call from my vet. My cat was poisoned, and they couldn’t save her.” Talia hung her head. “She died.”
“You think Esriel did it,” Tim said plainly.
Talia nodded. “Yes. I left the store to confront her, but she only laughed at me and told me that my head was full of nonsense.” She cupped her hands on Tristan’s face. “Judging from the looks of you, she used my sweet Midnight as a test run for whatever poison she used on you.”
Lydia gasped. “Oh, God.”
Tristan moved to put his arm around Lydia. He knew she was thinking the same thing. They were running out of time.
“Can you help me?” Tristan said, locking eyes with Talia.
She nodded her head. “I don’t know…maybe.”
“What do you need from me?” Tristan asked.
Talia walked to the door and locked it, flipping the closed sign around. “Let’s move to the back room. I need to get a few things together.” She glanced at Tim. “Esriel keeps an old book in her top drawer. It’s a book of spells.”
Tristan’s body trembled with fatigue, but Lydia was there to take on his weight. He kissed her cheek, praying it wasn’t going to be the last time his lips touched her soft skin. “Whatever you’re going to do, Talia, we need to do it quick.” He stared at the plump old woman. “I’m afraid I’m not going to last much longer.”
He heard Lydia’s scream before everything went dark.
Chapter Five
/> Tears fell from Lydia’s eyes as she held Tristan’s hand. His color was returning, but slower than she had hoped for. He still hadn’t regained consciousness, and since Talia had never reversed a mortalities spell like the one cast on him, it had taken longer to make the potion than expected.
Dozens of black candles surrounded Tristan’s body, but there was one white candle, the one that represented his life. Talia explained that as long as Tristan still had a life force flowing through him, there was still hope, but he had to regain consciousness before the candle burned out or all hope was lost.
Lydia placed her head on the altar he laid on and prayed. Her heart was full of fear, but more of the love she felt for Tristan. As she closed her eyes, she pictured her life, and no matter where her visions took her, Tristan was at her side. A life without him was not possible.
“Have you tried sharing your energy with him?”
Lydia raised her head to see Talia standing at the other side of the altar. “What?”
“I told you, dear girl, you are special. Your love for this boy is something only written about in fairytales.”
Lydia gazed down at his peaceful face. “If that were true, then it would only have taken a kiss to wake him.”
Talia shook her head and smiled softly. “So maybe your story with Tristan isn’t so black and white. But you do have a power that only those in love can share.” She leaned over the table and took her hand, placing it over the top of his. “Touch him, child. Give him the energy you feel inside your heart. Show him the love that grows within you.”
“How?” Lydia breathed.
“What do you feel when you touch him?”
Lydia gazed down at Tristan, and the flutter that she always felt in her belly was there, and then her body tingled and warmed. Everything inside her, every sensation she felt, magnified. Her breath quickened as did her pulse. She licked her lips, wanting desperately to kiss him, to feel his warm mouth over hers, to taste him.
Instinctively she did just that. She pressed her lips to his, a gentle kiss at first, then one that built from deep within her soul. She repositioned her hands to hold his face, her fingers caressing his dark hair. She licked the seam of his lips, working her tongue between them. The warmth of his mouth, the fevered taste of his lips overwhelmed her just as the feel of his arms circling her did.
She gasped, pulling back to see his gray eyes flickering with a blueness she’d only prayed she’d see again. “Oh, God,” she cried, capturing his lips once again. She kissed his face all over to the sounds of his laughter. She stared into his eyes. “You’re alive, Tristan. You’re really alive.”
He cupped her face. “Thanks to you,” he told her. “You never gave up on me, and you wouldn’t let me give up on myself.”
“Never,” she breathed. “I’d never give up on you.”
Talia clapped her hands together. “See, my dear. You have the power of love working for you both, and you didn’t even know it.”
Lydia reached to take her hand. “We could never have done this without you.”
“Oh, well that’s true, but you did the hard part. Truly caring for someone, seeing past all their faults and blemishes…well that’s real magic.” With a warm smile, Talia turned, but before she left, she asked, “What are you going to do about the Drakes? I can’t imagine they’re going to be very happy to see Tristan walking around again.”
Lydia hadn’t thought about that, but she knew Talia was right. “What about you, Talia? If they figure out you helped us—”
Talia waved her hand. “You let me worry about that.” She giggled jovially. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Tristan sat up on the table. “Any that can help us?”
Talia delightfully rubbed her hands together. “Now that you’ve asked, I just might.”
* * * *
Tristan couldn’t shake the worry tumbling around in his belly. The nervous roller coaster of the Drakes would hopefully be over soon. Surprisingly, Talia had given him the name of her son, who just happened to be the local town sheriff. After a nice long afternoon chat with the blond-haired brawny policeman, he actually felt better than he had in days.
Until now.
Standing at the front door of Esriel Drake’s home had him wanting to run for cover. He never wanted to feel the kiss of death creep up on him like that again. He wanted a nice long life where he passed away in his bed surrounded by his wife, kids, and grandkids. But first he had to put an end to the evil that had nearly stolen all his dreams away.
With a quick glance around him, he knocked on the door. His entire body was filled with tension, and his mouth was cotton dry. Sucking in a sharp breath, he waited for the door to open and all hell to break loose.
He forced his body still as Esriel’s mystic eyes stared back at him. Her shocked gaze was enough to make a slight smile tug at his lips. A certain amount of satisfaction overcame him as he stood face-to-face with the person who’d tried to kill him and failed.
“Surprised to see me, Esriel? Maybe you should’ve tried the potion on a larger animal to gauge how much you needed to really kill me.”
The door flung open, and Abigail appeared. Her dark hair flew back from her face as she moved between him and her mother. Her eyes were as black as night, drilling into him with immeasurable loathing. “How is this possible?” She turned back to Esriel. “You said it would work,” she barked.
“Why?” Tristan asked. He had to understand what would make her so bitter toward him. What had he done to deserve her wrath?
Abigail narrowed her dark eyes, her head angling to the side. “You know why,” she rasped.
He swallowed the tightness that filled his throat. “I really don’t.”
She closed the distance between them, trailing her long black fingernail up his chest, finally capturing his chin in the clasp of her index figure and thumb. “You and your beautiful looks and all those girls falling all over you like you were something special.”
He held her cold stare. “And I wasn’t falling all over you.” She slapped him, her nails biting into his flesh. He hissed, covering his face where she’d struck him. He snickered. “Did I hit a nerve, Abigail?”
She raised her hand to strike him again, but Esriel grabbed her hand just before she could. “Abigail, you shouldn’t be so hard on the boy. He did come to see you after all.”
Abigail’s eyes widened and then softened as if understanding what her mother was talking about. Every nerve in Tristan’s body exploded with warning. The diabolical gleam in Esriel’s eyes told him that he wasn’t going to like what she planned for him.
“Maybe we should take our conversation inside,” she said sweetly. “Would you like anything to drink?” Her teasing tone was a reminder of the vile of liquid she’d shoved down his throat.
“No, thank you. I’d prefer to stay right here,” Tristan told them both, looking from one evil set of eyes to the other.
Tristan’s body stiffened as Abigail ran the tips of her fingers over his arms and positioned the palm of her hand at his back. He knew from the way she moved she intended to force him into the house. He expected it. Now he only hoped that the others would arrive in time to save him. Judging from the way the Drakes glared at him, they planned to dispose of him the right way this time.
Permanently.
* * * *
“Why aren’t we racing in there to save him?” Lydia asked nervously, pointing across the street toward the Drakes’ residence.
She sat in a squad car with Sheriff Bo Eckert, a tall, brawny blond-haired man with eyes so intense she never wanted to see him pissed off.
He snapped his penetrating gaze to her. “Ms. Lockhart, please be patient. I’m not about to risk anything happening to Mr. Davis.”
“But she’s taking him inside. They could be killing him as we sit here and do nothing.”
“Ms. Lockhart—”
“Don’t Ms. Lockhart me, sheriff. That man in there is the love of my life, and I’
ll be damned if I’m going to just stay put and let him die. Again.”
She sprang out of the car and ran for the Drakes’ front door. Sheriff Eckert snaked his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. She barely got five feet from the car before he caught her.
“Release me,” she demanded.
“Do you want to get yourself and Tristan killed?” Eckert’s voice was rough, almost a growl. “We’re not alone, Lydia. We’ve got things under control.”
Just as he spoke the words, she noticed two white vans parked at each side of the Drakes’ house. “We’ve got backup. The kind that has eyes and ears on the inside,” he told her. “So stop fighting me on this. I want the same thing you do.”
Lydia nodded her head, her heart calming just a little. “I’m sorry.” He eased his hold on her, and she turned to face him. “Just promise me you won’t screw this up.”
An awkward smile tugged at one side of his mouth. “I promise.”
She knew Eckert couldn’t truly guarantee her anything, but it made her feel a little less hopeless. “Thank you,” she breathed.
He touched her arm. “Thank me when we’ve gotten Tristan out of there safely and the FBI has everything they need to put the Drakes away for a good long while.”
“How did they get here so fast?”
“Turns out the Drakes are connected to several missing persons’ cases, including Mr. Drake, or should I say Mr. Fitz.”
“Oh, my God,” she mumbled under her breath. She imagined that Esriel had done something similar to her husband that she tried to do to Tristan. Honestly, she really didn’t want to find out. What she did want was Tristan back.
“How much longer do you suppose we’ll have to wait?” Lydia asked.
“Not much. I’m sure whatever’s going down will happen soon. They won’t risk Tristan getting hurt.”
“I hope that’s the case,” she muttered, knowing that she sounded a little uneasy. She was, and she had every right to be.
