The Witch Is Back

by H. P. Mallory

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly, reaching out to touch him as if that would make it all better. But he backed away from me, and my hand merely dropped to my side.

  “Are you—” he started as he ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Are you in love with him?”

  I took a deep breath, afraid to answer the question. But, finally realizing I had to answer it, I did. “Rand, I … I don’t know what to tell you, what you want me to say. I love you just as much as I always have …”

  “But you love him too,” he finished for me and shook his head. “Even after what he’s done to you?”

  I took a deep breath. “That certainly changes things, but love doesn’t just turn itself off so easily, Rand. Even if he … he broke my heart.”

  Rand nodded and turned soft eyes on me as he did so. “I understand,” he said simply and started for the door.

  “Rand,” I stopped him even though I wasn’t sure what more I should say. It seemed as if the damage was already done. “Eventually this won’t be a problem for us.”

  “I understand,” he said again, and before he turned to leave, he faced me again, worry gnawing at his features. He bit his lip as if he didn’t want the words to come out of his mouth, but eventually, he opened his mouth and asked me: “Did you sleep with him?”

  I swallowed hard and that was enough for Rand. He sighed and opened the door, disappearing into the cold fae night.

  I couldn’t sleep.

  For the last four hours since Rand had left me, I’d been tossing and turning, wondering whether or not I should have been so forthcoming with Rand regarding my feelings for Sinjin. I mean, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him—and by the look in his eyes before he walked out of my room last night, he’d been hurt and then some. If those thoughts weren’t enough to keep me wide awake, reflections of Sinjin continued to plague me.

  I kept replaying memories of Sinjin over and over in my head, wondering how he could have been so cold and calculating when he appeared to have really cared about me. The things he said, the way he acted—I fell for his whole charade hook, line, and blood drinker.

  “Ugh,” I groaned as I forced myself out of bed. I was in my house again, but only after insisting that I needed to go home to sort out my thoughts. Rand, acting as his normal overly protective self, argued with me, of course, but in the end my donkey obstinacy won out.

  Figuring sleep would continue to elude me and needing a diversion for myself, I decided I was thirsty. I threw on my robe and stepped into my slippers, plodding off to the kitchen. Today I would head over to Sinjin’s house to see if he was still there. If he was, I’d let Rand know so he could arrange to have Sinjin’s casket, or whatever it was that the vampire slept in, moved … as in, into the future with us. And if Sinjin wasn’t around, as I’d imagined he wouldn’t be, I was just going to continue living my life as usual and basically wait around until he found me.

  When he eventually did come to me, I was going to play dumb and act as though I had no idea where I’d been for the past day or so. Like I had amnesia. Then, of course, he would have to enlist the help of the “benevolent Bella” to ascertain just what in the hell happened to me. Then the two of them, like the Bobbsey Twins, would try and figure out whodunit.

  Well, that was the plan, but I didn’t feel like sticking to it. No, I didn’t feel like playing some idiotic game with Sinjin where I had to pretend I wasn’t livid with him and that I had no idea there was a huge knife in my back, thanks to him. Instead, I had my own plan. And that plan revolved around demanding answers from him—as his Queen, I had the position as well as the authority to do so.

  There was no reason for me to wait until tonight to put my new and improved plan into action. As it was, I couldn’t sleep and had nothing else to do …

  With iron resolve, I forgot about the glass of water and, instead, hightailed it back into my bedroom. I pulled open my dresser drawers as I searched for a pair of jeans and my pink UCLA sweatshirt. I threw both on in record time and, eyeing my disheveled hair in the mirror, opted for my white baseball cap.

  “All right, you bastard,” I whispered. “The time of reckoning is here.”

  I grabbed my purse and keys from the kitchen counter before starting for my garage. Yes, it did occur to me that it was probably a better idea to wait for Sinjin to come to me, but I didn’t care. He probably wouldn’t be there anyway. At the moment, I just had to escape for a little bit, to get out of the house. And I couldn’t wait any longer to demand Sinjin tell me what he really wanted from me and why he’d altered the course of history to get it.

  Opening the door to the Jetta, I buckled myself in and turned on the engine, waiting for the garage door to lift. Then I started getting nervous.

  What if Sinjin is at his house? What are you going to say to him? I thought to myself. Are you just going to blaze in there with your guns drawn? Or are you going to be more subtle about it?

  I don’t know, but it doesn’t really matter. Whatever happens, happens.

  Chances are, he won’t even be there anyway.

  Well, he’d better be because it’s going to drive me crazy to have to sit and wait for him to come to me! No, I need to get this done and out of my system, and pronto!

  I’d been so involved with my mental conversation, I nearly missed my cell phone ringing from deep inside my purse. I reached over and played treasure hunt for a few seconds before I finally grasped my phone and pulled it out. I recognized Christa on the caller ID immediately. I also realized it was past midnight but figured she’d just gotten home from a date or the fact that I was missing was keeping her up late.

  “Sorry, Chris,” I said as I answered. I suddenly realized that I’d virtually disappeared off the face of the planet for the last couple of days and hadn’t gotten in touch with her at all. Bad friend.

  “Um, where the hell have you been?” she asked, her tone heated.

  I sighed as I put the car in reverse and, while balancing the phone on my shoulder, attempted to back out. “It’s a really long story, Chris, and I don’t have time to tell you now.”

  “Where are you?”

  I took a deep breath, putting the car in drive as I started down my street. “I’m on my way to Sinjin’s.”

  “God, I thought he’d finally eaten you,” she said as she exhaled a pent-up breath. “I figured you caught him on a bad day, when he was really hungry, and I was this close to calling the police. Good thing for you the only thing stopping me was that I would have sounded like a whacked-out, crazy bitch.”

  Even though she was completely serious, I couldn’t help my laugh.

  “This isn’t a joke, Jolie!” she railed. “You need to reconsider dating him! He’s a vampire, for crying out loud!”

  “You’re just now realizing this?” I muttered. She was still so caught up in her tirade, she didn’t even hear me.

  “I mean, it’s not like the pig dates the farmer or the slop dates the pig.”

  “What?” I asked, shaking my head, as I turned on Sinjin’s street. The familiarity of the pepper trees caused a sadness to root in my gut.

  “Food hierarchy, Jolie,” she said, the essence of duh in her tone. “You don’t date your food.”

  “I’m not Sinjin’s food,” I pointed out. “Well, not yet, I hope.”

  I cleared my throat as I figured I ought to tell her the truth about Sinjin and me. “And anyway, Sinjin and I broke up.”

  “Then why are you on your way to his house?”

  “Like I said before, it’s a long story and one I can’t tell you right now because I’m already here.”

  She sighed, long and deep, and fake for emphasis. “Okay, but promise me you aren’t going to go all psycho on him and beg him to take you back or some crap. Remember to stay strong, Sista Sledge.”

  I shook my head at the very idea of begging him to take me back. No, things were beyond over between us. “I promise.”

  “Okay. Be safe, Jolie.” She paused for a second or tw
o. “I’ve invested a good twenty years into you, you know? Don’t go and die on me now.”

  I laughed, thinking Christa had the strangest way of expressing herself. But if anyone stuck by me through the good and the bad, she did. “I’ll be safe, Chris, don’t worry.”

  Then we said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone, taking a deep breath as I faced Sinjin’s house. None of the lights were on, but that wasn’t what snatched my attention. It was the FOR SALE sign out front with a picture of the real estate agent who’d sold him the house.

  So I was right: Sinjin had already moved on.

  All hope inside me sank. As soon as I spotted that sign, something in me suddenly became heavy; it almost felt like I was drowning. I’m not sure why I didn’t just turn around and go home, but I didn’t. Instead, I just sat there with the motor running as I stared at Sinjin’s house and allowed the happy memories of our time together to suffuse me.

  That was when I promised myself I would beat this; I would beat this depression, or at least the feeling that a part of me was suffocating, dying. Yes, I would beat this—I was already on my way. The love I felt for Sinjin would crumble into nothing and eventually be blown away, dissolving into the air like the unused molecules in one of Mercedes’ spells.

  “Goodbye,” I whispered to the house. But somehow, I felt the driving need to turn off the car and walk up to the house, just to see if it was completely vacant, or still full of furniture. I wanted to ensure that Sinjin really had given up the house in the same way that he would soon abandon me once he learned I had all my memories back.

  Stop trying to kid yourself. The only reason you want to go up there is to feel close to Sinjin again and it’s a stupid thing to do.

  I ignored that voice and turned off the engine. Now I was just sitting here, in the dark, arguing with myself.

  You might as well just go up there. I mean, it’s dumb just sitting here and staring at his house like a lovesick dumb-ass.

  He’s already gone, so what’s the point? You’re just going to freeze your ass off.

  You’re still sitting here … Crap and a half!

  “Ugh,” I said at last as I undid my seat belt, throwing open the door. The cold night air assaulted my legs through my jeans and I shivered.

  I stood up, not wanting to dally any longer. I was just going to go look through the living room window and see if there was any furniture. The only reason was to report back to Rand and Mathilda.

  Okay? I asked my inner voice.

  Okay.

  Good. Fine. Done.

  I ran across the street and felt my heartbeat pounding in my throat as I started up Sinjin’s walkway. I felt a general depression again as I glanced around myself, thinking how everything had appeared in such a different light the last time I ventured up this path. Before, things seemed fresh and promising; and now, this was the beginning of the end.

  I pushed my melancholy thoughts aside and tiptoed over the grass as I leaned against the living room window, cupping my hands on either side of my face, hoping to ward off the glare from the streetlights.

  His house was empty.

  I’d been expecting it, but the sight depressed me all the same. Sinjin had really packed up and moved out. He was just as aware as I was that whatever existed between us was dead and gone.

  “Funny meeting you here.”

  I almost didn’t believe it was his voice; but somehow, I knew I hadn’t imagined it. I felt like I was stuck in sand as I turned around to face him. I didn’t say anything right away, mentally begging my heart to calm down, but it adamantly refused. Sinjin looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen him. He seemed taller somehow, and broader. His hair was just as wavy as it normally was, with the ends curling up over his collar; and there was that wicked gleam in his beautiful blue eyes. He was every inch the devil’s henchman.

  “Sinjin.” I said his name as if it were a curse and tried to shake myself out of my dreamlike stupor. I wasn’t sure if I was seeing him in a different light because I now had multilayered memories of him, which allowed us a much deeper connection, or if I’d merely missed him. Either way, I couldn’t help the breath that was stuck in my throat or my unabashed stare. Yep, I was standing there like a complete idiot.

  And that was when I remembered: I remembered that Sinjin had been using me all along, that he’d thwarted my pursuit of a happy life with Rand by changing the course of history, that he’d worked tirelessly to ensure that I would fall fast and hard for him, and that the whole thing had been completely calculated, entirely choreographed, and utterly false.

  I reminded myself that Sinjin Sinclair never cared for me. But most of all, I remembered that he’d broken my heart.

  Something inside of me erupted, and fueled by his assholish smirk, I unleashed the palm of my hand against his cheek. His head turned to the side with the impact and, when he faced me again, his left eyebrow was elevated as if to ask, What else do you have up your sleeve? But his fangs were indenting his lower lip, indicating that he wasn’t exactly happy. I mean, I had to imagine it wasn’t every day that a master vampire got bitch-slapped.

  “Why did you do it, Sinjin?” I demanded, my voice hollow.

  “Do what, love?” he asked as he continued to eye me with that look of amusement. There was no trace of pleasure, however, in the depths of his eyes. There was no trace of anything, actually.

  “Spare us both the lies,” I spat back. “I know what you did but I want to know why you did it.”

  “I have nothing to confess,” he said resolutely, before his eyes turned hard as he studied me. “Perhaps you would care to tell me where you have been the past day and a half?” His voice was angry as he inquired, as if I were the perpetrator, the one who’d broken our bond.

  I shook my head. Two could play at this game. “Answer the damn question.”

  He glanced at me with surprise showing through his gaze, as if he hadn’t expected such vitriol, as if my anger was unwarranted. Then his eyes narrowed. “You seem different.”

  “Different is a good word for it,” I said crossly. “Or another good way to describe it is that every memory I’ve ever had has finally been restored to me.” His eyes widened only a fraction; if I hadn’t been paying attention, I might not even have noticed. “Including the one when Rand first walked into my store two years ago.”

  Sinjin nodded as if he weren’t alarmed by the news in the least, but he seemed to be struggling to appear indifferent. By now, I knew him well enough to know that he was anything but indifferent. How could he be when the control he sought so intensely was now dripping through his fingers like water? “And your current memories?”

  “I have those too.”

  He chuckled without humor. “I should say Randall has matured into quite the warlock, do you not agree?”

  I shook my head—I wouldn’t be derailed. “Stop beating around the bush, Sinjin. You owe me the truth.”

  “The truth about what?” he demanded, suddenly dropping the charade of civility. He took a step closer to me until we were separated by nothing more than two inches. I could feel the chill of his body seeping into my bones.

  “I want to know why you manipulated time to meet me before Rand did,” I said fervently.

  He shrugged. “Is it not obvious?”

  “Say it.”

  He shrugged again, acting like this wasn’t a big deal, like I had no reason to question him. “I merely wanted to meet you before Randall had the opportunity.”

  “To what end?”

  He didn’t respond right away, but smiled at me lazily. “That would be giving away my hand, love.”

  That was when I lost any patience I might have had. “You are a son of a bitch, Sinjin,” I seethed and started to pivot on my toes and walk to my car. It was useless even talking to him—he’d never admit to anything. I didn’t know why I had bothered to come here in the first place; it was a huge mistake.

  “What difference does any of this make now, poppet?” he asked. I sto
pped walking and turned around to face him. “Your memories have been returned to you and you have a lovely life to look forward to with the warlock.”

  I shook my head, pain burning through me at his words. He was just so … cold. Tears began to flood my eyes, but I forced them back.

  I would not cry. I would not cry. I would not cry!

  “Do you really think it’s that simple?” I managed to squeak out. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Maybe you’ve been alive for too long and you’ve forgotten what it is to feel; or maybe you’re an absolute cold, manipulative fuckwad …”

  Sinjin’s icy chuckle interrupted me. I glanced at him furiously, watching him shake his head as he laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. Just as quickly as he started laughing, he stopped and stared at me through hardened eyes. “You think I cannot feel?” he demanded.

  I took a deep breath but wasn’t about to back down now. “I don’t think you understand what it is to be human.”

  “Human? What will it take for you to understand that I am not human?”

  “It’s beginning to dawn on me,” I grumbled.

  “My humanity died the day I died,” he snapped and his eyes were glowing red, incensed and angry. “But that does not mean I cannot feel.”

  That was when I lost it. A hurricane was building inside me that had finally gotten the thumbs-up to wage as much destruction as possible. I could feel the tears I was trying so hard to restrain suddenly come busting forward. Trying to avoid making a total ass of myself, I turned away from him and started walking toward my car, seeking nothing more than escape. I had to get away from him.

  I should have known better. I should have known Sinjin would never allow me to retreat when I most wanted to. No, he got some sort of sick pleasure out of making me uncomfortable. So I wasn’t surprised when I suddenly walked headlong into his chest and felt his hands grab my upper arms.