The Witch Is Back

by H. P. Mallory

  And my cleavage looked like a butt.

  The lights suddenly dimmed and the ads on-screen faded away into blackness as the movie started. I suddenly felt Sinjin’s hand on mine and I turned to look at him, surprised by how cold he was.

  “May I?” he asked with a sweet, boyish smile.

  I just nodded and watched him fold his fingers over my hand, suddenly feeling as if I wanted to pull my hand away because his was icy cold. “You’re freezing,” I said softly. It wasn’t the type of cold that came from being outside in the snow. No, this coldness felt like it was radiating from inside him.

  He loosened his hold on my hand for a second or two and then tightened it again, as if he were startled by my comments. He dropped his eyes to his lap, then brought them back to mine with a deep sigh. “I suffer from a rare condition called Raynaud’s disease.”

  I frowned, suddenly feeling like a total asshole for drawing attention to the fact that he was suffering from some disease. Talk about putting my foot in my mouth. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never heard of it.”

  He nodded as if my reaction wasn’t unusual, but he didn’t seem embarrassed. “Raynaud’s is a disorder that affects the blood vessels in the skin.”

  “And it makes you feel cold?”

  He brought his attention to the screen, where the opening credits were scrolling. “Yes. The blood vessels shrink and limit circulation to my extremities. I believe it is also to blame for my stomach issues and why I am quite often not hungry.” Then he faced me. “Does it bother you?”

  I shook my head, still feeling like a total jerk. And I didn’t even really notice how cold his touch was anymore anyway—it was almost as if my body heat had warmed him up. “No, it doesn’t.”

  He smiled and faced forward again as the credits faded and the movie started. I wasn’t sure why but I squeezed his hand. Maybe it was just to let him know that I was okay with the fact that he wasn’t perfect, that I accepted him the way he was. He glanced down at me and smiled, lifting my hand to his lips, which were just as cold as his hand. He kissed the top of my hand and brought it back to his knee again.

  I faced forward and tried to get involved in the movie, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Sinjin—how close he was to me, how wonderful it had felt when he kissed my hand, how something was stirring deep down inside me for the first time in so long, a kind of stinging at the thought of the other places he could kiss.

  God, I’m as bad as Christa!

  I forced the thoughts out of my head and mandated my attention to the screen. Some unfortunate half-dressed woman, complete with one ridiculously large boob hanging out of one side of her tank top, was running through a forest, apparently trying to get away from a madman wearing a mask made out of skin. Why the man was after her or how she’d ended up in such a dire predicament, I couldn’t say. And I wasn’t sure if that was because I hadn’t been paying attention or the audience simply wasn’t privy to the information.

  Either way, it looked bad for the woman. I mean, how could she outrun a crazy guy when the two buoys on her chest had to weigh at least ten pounds apiece?

  I reached for my popcorn again, feeling anxiety bubbling up inside of me. I glanced over at Sinjin, who didn’t seem to be affected by the woman’s fear in the least. Instead, he just watched the movie in a detached, indifferent sort of way.

  Raynaud’s disease? The fact that Sinjin wasn’t quite as perfect as I originally imagined only endeared him to me more. Just as I had my own Achilles’ heel to bear in the form of my self-confidence (or lack thereof), so did Sinjin. Maybe we had more in common than I thought? I mean, maybe most women didn’t respond well when he told them about his condition—maybe he was as nervous about it as I was about dating in general. Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

  Sinjin’s hold on my hand tightened but it wasn’t an intimate squeeze, it was more a reaction born from something else … adrenaline? I glanced at the screen and noticed that the woman had been stabbed and was now dying on the forest floor, while the man in the meat mask stood over her. There was blood everywhere.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Sinjin with a small smirk as if I expected that the big tough guy was actually afraid of this corny and ridiculous movie. The smirk fell right off my face when I looked at him.

  He was paler than I’d ever seen him and he appeared to be panting, his breath coming in short, quick gasps. But his eyes were what threw me the most—they were lighter than usual, almost white, and it seemed like he was transfixed by the screen. His lips were drawn tightly closed, almost as if he were forcing his mouth into some unnatural grimace. Meanwhile, his grip on my hand was actually becoming painful.

  “Um, Sinjin?”

  At the sound of my voice, he dropped his gaze from the screen and immediately released my hand. A smile claimed his lips and he shook his head with a laugh. “Did I ever tell you that I am quite a coward when it comes to scary flicks?”

  I smiled up at him and shook my head. “You looked like you’d seen the proverbial ghost.”

  He ran his hand through his hair and faced me again, not saying anything, just looking at me. His eyes were as blue as they’d always been. It must have been the light from the movie that had made them appear white …

  “Do you … you mind if we leave?” he asked, seeming somehow flustered.

  “Sure, I didn’t know horror movies bothered you so much,” I said, laughing lightly. “You should have said something before you agreed to go.”

  He stood up and shook his head, revealing an embarrassed smile on his lips. “I did not want you to think me a coward.”

  I took his proffered hand and followed him through the aisle of seats and into the hallway. He pushed open the door for me and I blinked against the bright lights of the theater, shielding my eyes with my hand.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked him once my vision had adjusted. Sinjin didn’t seem affected by the sudden transition from dark to light and watched me with an amused smile.

  “Perhaps there is a park or a place we could sit down and get to know each other better?”

  “Well, I’m not sure how great a park would be at night, but there’s one by my house,” I suggested, suddenly worried that Sinjin might think I was extending an invitation to my house simply because the park was so close in proximity. That was the last thing I wanted him to think and I really didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. “I don’t mean that we would … um … go back to my house, if that’s what it sounded like.”

  “Poppet,” he said, bringing a finger to his lips in the universal sign of shut the hell up. “I understand.”

  I managed a cheese-ball smile.

  “Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm. I took it and allowed him to escort me to his Ferrari. He opened my door for me and made sure that I was comfortably seated before he got in on the other side. The drive to the park was maybe ten minutes and we spent it making small talk about the horrible movie.

  “So tell me about you,” I said as he parked and turned the engine off. He unfastened his seat belt and opened the door, appearing by my side just moments later. He was incredibly quick, so much so that he must have sprinted around the car.

  “What would you care to know?” he asked as I took his arm and he beeped the car locked behind me. We started down the cobbled drive that led into the grassy expanse of the park. A lone bench sat at the end of the grass, surrounded by massive eucalyptus trees.

  When we reached the park bench, I was about to sit, but Sinjin’s grasp on my upper arm tightened and he shook his head. “It is damp,” he commented. I glanced at the bench and spotted the condensation of the heavy dew. Sinjin wasted no time in removing his black wool jacket and placing it on the bench.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said in surprise, wondering what this man would pull out of his pocket next. He was just so … unpredictable. “I hope the moisture doesn’t ruin your jacket.”

  Sinjin smiled and gently pressed my shoulders down to indic
ate that I should sit. I did. “Material artifacts, love. They hold no value for me.”

  Well, he certainly was an enigma, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. He took a seat beside me, very close beside me, I might add. But that was probably owing to the fact that his jacket wasn’t large enough to accommodate both of us along with our personal space.

  Getting uncomfortable with the awkward silence, I tried to remember where our conversation had been headed. “Where in England are you from?” I asked, finding my train of thought.

  He glanced down at me and raised his brows as if the answer should be obvious. It was a strange reaction. “London.”

  “Is that where you live now?”

  “One of the places.”

  I felt surprise echo through me. “You live in more than one place?”

  “Live is a complicated word,” he offered with a smile. “I own homes in various countries, yes.”

  Wow, he really had to be loaded. If the Ferrari wasn’t a clue, the fact that he owned homes in more than one country was a pretty good indicator. “May I ask where?”

  “Yes, of course you may ask.”

  When he made no motion to answer the question, I realized he was making a joke. “Ha ha,” I said with a smile. I boldly gripped his arm and pulled myself into him while he chuckled down at me. He lifted his arm from my grasp and wrapped it around me, folding me into the cocoon of his embrace. It was just as chilly as his hand and lips had been. But this time I knew better and I didn’t say anything.

  “London, Paris, and Lucerne.”

  “Lucerne?” I asked, trying to remember where that was.

  “Switzerland.”

  “Ah, yes,” I finished with an embarrassed smile. I’d never been much of a wiz at geography.

  “I had fun with you tonight,” I said with a nervous smile, my eyes focused on my fidgeting hands.

  “As did I, poppet.” He wrapped his other arm around me and pulled me into him, kissing the top of my head while butterflies began swarming in my stomach. “I find I always enjoy our time together.”

  I didn’t say anything, just nodded and smiled up at him, probably looking like a lovesick dog. And before I could even comprehend what was happening, Sinjin bent down and, tightening his hold on me, kissed me. It was a light kiss and his lips were incredibly full, soft. I closed my eyes, feeling my heartbeat ricocheting through me until I started to feel dizzy, which immediately made me worry that this might be a huge mistake. Maybe it was all happening too quickly—I mean, the last thing I wanted to do was lose control.

  Jolie, just go with it! I chided myself. Just keep your eyes closed and stop thinking!

  But when I felt his tongue entering my mouth, something inside me ground its hooves into the dirt. A voice of reason suddenly came through loud and clear over the PA system in my brain, emerging from the swirling mass of my thoughts.

  What if this is the lead-in to sex? Are you ready for that?

  No, of course I’m not!

  And furthermore, how are you going to feel when you’re completely caught up in him and he goes back to Britain or France or freaking Switzerland?

  “I … I’m sorry, Sinjin, I can’t do this,” I started as I pulled away from him.

  He glanced over at me with a sweet but sad smile. “Why not?”

  It wasn’t a question I was expecting, so it sort of threw me for a loop. I mean, wasn’t it obvious? It should have been crystal clear—Sinjin and I were from completely different worlds and things would never work out between us. “Um, because I don’t know where this is going and I don’t know when you’re going to leave.” I didn’t want to sound pathetic or desperate, but I had the feeling that I sounded both.

  “Ah,” he said, nodding as if I had a point. I felt my stomach drop in disappointment and I started to get angry with myself. I’d known this would happen from the get-go. I’d even told Christa that Sinjin was just after me for sex! So why did I feel so disappointed?

  Before I had the chance to further lambaste myself, Sinjin turned his intense gaze to me. “As to the question regarding where our friendship is going, I cannot answer that, but would it help to know that I have no intentions of leaving America? Not for a long while at any rate?”

  I faced him in surprise, holding back the onslaught of hope that was now pushing doubly hard, hell-bent to get inside. “You’re staying?”

  He nodded and glanced down at his shoes for a moment, a boyish twinkle in those beautiful blue eyes. “Do you recall how I told you I was considering opening an American branch of my business?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have decided to move forward with it.”

  At first optimism flooded me, but then it was replaced with doubt. “Yeah, but for how long?”

  “It would be quite a long-term move, as it would take years for me to ensure the success of the American branch and making sure it becomes profitable.”

  I nodded and, feeling like I’d just made an ass of myself, smiled up at him shyly. “I’m … I’m sorry I freaked out.”

  He shook his head, and the expression on his face said that he wasn’t concerned with my freak-out. “I had hoped to ask you for a favor this evening,” Sinjin continued, his left eyebrow elevated.

  “A favor?”

  He chuckled slightly, probably at the shocked expression on my face. Hey, I hadn’t been expecting such a quick change in topic. “Yes, I was hoping you might be able to help locate a more permanent arrangement for me since I will be staying here for quite a while. The Four Seasons is becoming a bit … tired.”

  “You want me to help you find somewhere to live?” I asked, wishing I didn’t sound so doubtful or so excited.

  He chuckled again. “I know it sounds bizarre and perhaps too forward, but I find myself so absorbed with work during the day, I have not had time to put any energy into house hunting.”

  I nodded. “Sure, I’d be glad to help you.”

  “Thank you, poppet,” he said and ran his long index finger down the side of my face.

  “Where would you like me to look? What areas?”

  “I will leave that up to you, love. The very best areas and please spare no expense.”

  Why did I have the feeling that this was going to be lots of fun?

  “Oh, and of course I will compensate you for your time.”

  I shook my head. “It would be my pleasure, Sinjin, and I wouldn’t accept anything from you. I mean, of course, I’ll have to do it in my off time, when I’m not with clients.”

  “Yes, of course.” He smiled and his teeth glowed white in the moonlight, his incisors looking incredibly … sharp. “And there is one other detail.”

  I cocked a brow and frowned up at him, deciding to try my hand at flirting. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

  “I am quite clueless when it comes to furnishings.”

  I shook my head in mock pity and then smiled as I thought about how entertaining this little errand was going to be. “I can help you with that too.”

  He smiled again. I’m not sure why, but it somehow appeared to be an expression of victory.

  I awoke out of a dead sleep and, glancing over at the clock on my bedside table, realized it was two in the morning. Lying back down, I tried to figure out what had woken me up. Had I heard a sound? Had I been having a bad dream? But I couldn’t remember anything—it was as if my mind were a blank slate.

  I closed my eyes and tried to quell the sudden misgivings that rinsed over me. There was nothing to be afraid of. The fact that I was agitated just because I’d woken up for no reason was ridiculous. I was twenty-eight years old, not a three-year-old afraid of the dark.

  Jolie.

  I sat bolt-upright and felt my eyes go wide. I’d heard the voice as clear as day. “Who’s there?” I demanded.

  There was nothing but quiet and it was suddenly deafening, eerie in its hollowness. It was as if the house were hiding something in its walls, playing with my sanity. My cat shifted from her prostrate positio
n at the end of the bed and stretched in the moonlight, meowing up at me curiously.

  “I heard someone say my name, Plum,” I said in response, needing her to believe I wasn’t completely losing my mind, needing someone to believe it because I was seriously doubting my sanity. The cat said nothing, of course, not even a purr, but jumped onto the floor, starting for the hallway. Her little paws made a soft plodding noise and before I knew it, I was completely alone.

  I glanced over at the clock again and realized two minutes had gone by.

  I heard something. I know I did, I told myself, shaking my head in wonder.

  Just go back to sleep, came the indifferent response from that side of myself I mostly didn’t care to hear from.

  Where are you?

  It was the voice again. Glancing around in the darkness, searching for a corner where someone could be hiding, could be concealed by the night, I suddenly realized that the voice was coming from my head. Granted, I had the habit of talking to myself—usually arguing with myself—but this was different. This was clearly a man’s voice and, what was more, it had an English accent.

  WTF?

  I will find you, Jolie, the voice continued.

  I wasn’t sure if I should respond, thinking it would seem completely crazy for me to do so. I mean, the fact that there was a random, disembodied voice floating through my head was probably reason enough for most people to commit themselves to the local loony ward.

  Can you hear me? the voice asked.

  I didn’t respond, didn’t want to encourage the ravings of my lunatic mind. My heart was now pounding through me and sweat was beading along my forehead.

  Jolie? Can you hear me?

  I clamped my eyes shut tightly and shook my head, telling myself not to respond. Nope, instead I would just ignore the voice and it would eventually go away and I could get back to sleep.

  Just ignore the voice and go back to sleep. It sounded like the perfect prescription.

  Jolie?