Shadow Witch Rising (Copper Falls Book 1)

by Colleen Vanderlinden

  His gaze softened. “And you don't know what it means to me that after all that, after everything I put you through last night, you cared enough to check on me. I don't know what to think of that, Sophie. I didn't expect it.” He shook his head. “Thank you, kitten. That's what I should have said first thing.”

  She blushed a little, looked him in the eye. “I think I'm insane,” she said. “You're right. I should have been running. There's not a doubt in my mind that if you'd gotten in last night, if you'd gotten anywhere near me, that there's any way I'd still be alive and well right now.”

  He looked away, rubbed the back of his neck. “I hate that you had to go through that last night. I hate that I'm that way for you. I hate that things are the way they are between us in so many ways.”

  “Yeah?”

  He looked at her again. “Yeah.”

  “Curses suck.”

  He let out a short laugh. ”They do. Especially when, if I were a normal guy, I'd be trying to charm you. I'd be trying to impress you. And look at us. I'm holding your house over your head so you'll break a curse, and, lucky you, the same curse makes it so I'm the biggest danger to you.”

  “Well… nobody's perfect,” Sophie said with a wry smile, and after a moment of silence, he laughed. “After seeing what you went through, I'm even more determined to break this thing. You were in so much pain. I mean, you were enraged and scary as hell, too, but mostly you sounded like it hurt.”

  He didn't answer, and the way that he looked at her nearly took her breath away.

  “I'm going to find a way to break it. I promise.”

  “Soph—“

  “Oh, wait. I wanted to show you. Look what I found in the attic.” She walked past him to the kitchen table and picked up the journals. She set them gently on the counter in front of him and opened the one written in French. He leaned down to look at it, his arm brushing hers as he leaned in, and her stomach twisted. God, he smelled good.

  “If there's an answer, it has to be in here somewhere,” she said, pointing to the page with their names, Luc and Migisi. “Or at least this can push me in the right direction. Something,” she said.

  “Your magic,” he reminded her gently.

  “Well, maybe it won't have anything to do with magic. We don't know yet.”

  She was looking up at him, and he was standing beside her, looking down at her. The look on his face was pure longing, and it echoed the way everything in her wanted him.

  Before she could think, she stood on tiptoe, leaned in, and pressed her lips to his, gently, just the barest of sweeps of her lips over his. And then again, giving both of them the chance to back away if they wanted to.

  After a second of hesitation, Calder leaned closer, capturing her lips with his. He turned her toward him, rested his hands at her waist, gently running his fingertips over the curve of her hips.

  “I remember, Sophie,” he murmured against her lips, kissing her again. “I remember. I remember kissing you. I remember everything.” He kissed her again, and rumbled in pleasure at the sound of her low whimper. She kissed him back, and when he deepened their kiss, she felt like she would drown in the torrent of emotion she was swept up in. “I remember. Your lips tasted so good. And your hair was like silk, and when I made myself pull away, your hair got tangled in that watch I used to wear.”

  She laughed a little, and kissed him again. “You remember that?“ she whispered.

  “I never forgot,” he said, rubbing his face against hers, holding her tighter to his body. She reveled in the feel of his skin pressed to hers, his lips warm and needy, his heart beating fast against her chest.

  A few seconds of gentle caresses of his lips to hers, so warm and careful she nearly wept, and he pulled back, though he kept his hands on her.

  “I don't want to hurt you,” he said, and she could hear the wistfulness in his voice. She knew then that he'd walk away.

  “Then don't,” she repeated.

  He gave her waist a gentle squeeze, fluttered his lips over hers once more, then stepped back.

  “The other day, you were pissed off at me because I'm tearing your life apart,” he reminded her. “Last night my beast raged for you, and this morning you saw me lose it again.”

  She stepped forward and put her arms around his waist, unable to stop touching him now that she'd been in his arms. Without any hesitation, he put his arms around her. “I know what you are, Calder. I know what I am. It doesn't change the fact that I want you.”

  She felt him still. His arms tightened around her for a moment, and then he gently pushed her away.

  “I have to go.”

  “Will you be back?”

  He gave her what looked like a pained smile. “I couldn't stay away even if I wanted to. There's just something I need to do.”

  It took everything in him to walk away.

  Calder cursed himself as he crossed the road to his house, his beast screaming, raging at him to get back in there and take what she was offering. His hands on her body, her lips pressed to his. It had been delicious, perfect, addictive torture. He'd been this close to burying his hands in those masses of dark curls and pulling her closer, giving in to the need he'd had for her since the moment he'd laid eyes on her again.

  What the hell had she been thinking kissing him like that? Holding him like that?

  Looking at him with understanding and care in her eyes instead of disgust?

  He gritted his teeth as his beast raged, as it struggled against him for control.

  Keep her safe. He had to keep her safe. Especially from himself.

  As soon as he was in his woods, he shucked his clothing, shifted. And he raised his face to the sky, and released a roar that shook the forest. Part victory, part frustration, full of possessiveness. A warning: do not mess with what is mine.

  And she was his. He and his beast were in agreement over that. He knew that would drive him insane even before his beast did, because there wasn't a chance in hell he'd risk losing control with her, not a chance in hell he'd lose it and come to, see her looking at him in fear. He'd been there once. It wouldn't happen again. And with her, it would be a constant battle. Before, it had been about slaking a need, scratching an itch, and he'd still nearly lost it.

  But this? This was Sophie. This was his, and he and his beast both wanted her.

  He ran.

  So much energy and hunger. As he ran, he caught a familiar, unwelcome scent. Sulfur and smoke. The warlock. He focused, followed the trail of scent, which led through his woods and to a dirt road further down. The dickhead was clearly becoming familiar with Sophie's new neighborhood.

  That wouldn't do.

  His property was warded now. He knew that. He didn't know for how long, but it was for now, which meant that, most likely, Marshall would go back to hanging around near Sophie's, bothering her. He preferred Marshall bothering him. At least he knew then, that Sophie was safe and had some peace.

  He thought as he loped back through the woods toward his house. It could easily just be an obsessive thing. From what Sophie had said, she'd been keeping him away for years. That seemed like a really, really long time for someone to harass a woman over a slight. But he knew, too, that some guys were just psychotic assholes, and they didn't need an actual reason to do shit like that.

  His power, though. Her magic. Calder wondered if there was an extra motivation for the way the guy was about Sophie. The one thing he knew for sure was that this interference was distracting her from him, and that wouldn't do.

  He shook his head. Stupid beast. No. It was making her scared and angry, and he wanted her the opposite. He wanted her safe, happy. Cared for. By him. Naked.

  He growled and shook his head again.

  That body pressed up against his, not once but twice in one day. He practically salivated at the memory. It would be best not to think about that too much. And definitely not about the way she'd kissed him, as if she was giving herself to him. And it appealed to everything he was. His beas
t had been in ecstasy. The man, impossibly enough, even more so.

  When he got back near his house, he could smell wolf. He sniffed again, glanced at Sophie's house. That little convertible. Layla and Cara were there.

  Good. She wasn't alone. And they were a good buffer between them. Because all he wanted just then was to set her on that counter in her kitchen and feast on her.

  This was getting complicated, he thought for about the thousandth time as he shifted back. He grabbed his clothing and headed into his house, directly upstairs and into the bathroom. Standing under the jets of ice-cold water didn't help as much as he'd like, but it was something.

  This was going to be the end of him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I wonder what happened to her,” Layla said, lying back on Sophie's small, lumpy couch, her legs thrown over the arm. She'd come over to check on Sophie and hear how things had happened with the full moon. Sophie stood at the nearby kitchen counter, cutting a large block of soap into smaller bars as she filled Layla and Cara in on what had happened while sharing a bare minimum about the morning after. She also shared what she'd learned from Thea.

  “I know. She's this hero, this selfless, amazing healer, and then she just loses it?” Sophie said. “Becomes 'Migisi the Mad?' And to be honest, I'm not even sure I want to hear why they started calling her that, because Thea didn't know anything about the curse, I don't think. So there are other things there and I swear I don't want to know.”

  “Luc must have messed up big time,” Cara said from her spot on the daybed.

  “Or she was nuts already,” Sophie said.

  “So she was in love, we're assuming, because we don't actually know that. She could have just been attracted to him.”

  “Maybe,” Sophie agreed. “Everyone seems to agree that she loved him.”

  “But you haven't seen her actually say that anywhere yet,” Layla pointed out. “Thea didn't have any evidence of that. And we definitely don't know how devoted he was to her. This could have been a friendship, or a fling, or any number of things that have nothing to do with love.”

  “Why are you so determined to believe they didn't love one another?” Sophie asked, setting her knife down and crossing her arms.

  “Because I wonder if maybe you're romanticizing what they were to one another and maybe it's carrying over into the way you deal with Calder.”

  “That is such crap,” Sophie said, and Layla cut her off.

  “No. No, it's not, and you need to smarten up. You understand that this goes against everything I know about you, right? You spent years running from that warlock asshole. In the time you've been here, you've shied away from every guy I've ever tried to introduce you to, citing your fear of men because of what Marshall put you through with his stalking, and I don't think you've even told me everything. And then this guy, and granted you knew him when he was a kid, but people change. This guy, who's openly blackmailing you, and who, oh yeah, also turns into a beast that kinda gets stalkery… This guy makes his way into your life, and you're all about opening up and giving him chances and saving him. I'm just wondering where the hell my careful, level-headed friend went, because this definitely isn't her.” Layla was sitting up now, watching Sophie. Cara watched silently, clearly wanting to stay out of it.

  Sophie had no answer for her, because she'd wondered the same thing herself.

  “You don't even know, do you?” Layla said, practically seeming to read her thoughts. “Do you see why I worry about this shit?”

  “I know. I can't explain it. I want him. When he's near me, I feel safe.”

  “He's blackmailing you,” Layla said, enunciating every syllable very clearly.

  “He feels really bad about it,” she said, and the words sounded lame even to her. Layla raised an eyebrow as if to say “Are you kidding me?” and even Cara shook her head. “It's not just him,” she reminded them.

  “If he cared for you, he'd be protecting you and trying to make your life easier. Not complicating it. I have no doubt at all that he's horny for you. You're gorgeous and amazing and he'd be stupid not to see that. And if you're horny for him, then okay. I can see it. The man is hot. But this isn't sounding like that. This is sounding like you're getting really, really emotionally involved. I don't want to see you hurt,” she finished more gently. “Cara keeps telling me to keep my mouth shut. Screw that. I love you. And you've been through enough.”

  “I love you too. And I love you for caring,“ Sophie said.

  “But you're going forward with him anyway,” Layla said. Then she nodded. “I hope it works out, Soph. If he breaks your heart, I'm going to break his face. If he hurts you, he will see exactly what a wolf can do to a bear.”

  Sophie laughed then, because she didn't doubt Layla for a minute. She went and sat beside her, and Cara joined them, sitting on her other side. Layla rested her head on Sophie's shoulder.

  “Just be careful, okay?”

  “I will.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon binge-watching a show they were all trying to catch up on before the new season started, and when the twins left around dinnertime, Sophie felt better, though at the same time, she was relieved to have some time alone.

  Sophie did her evening chores, then headed out front to see if there was any mail in her mailbox. She saw another of Marshall's roses resting on the mailbox, and she stalked toward it, grabbed the rose, bit the blossom off and spit it out, hoping he was watching.

  Sophie woke to her phone ringing. She opened one eye, saw that the sun was fully up. The goats were going to be completely irritated with her for sleeping in like that yet again.

  She fumbled around on the small table next to the daybed, saw Thea's number on the screen.

  She answered with a groggy “Hello?”

  “Sophie! Sorry if I woke you, kiddo,” Thea's cheery voice greeted her, sounding very much like the middle school teacher she'd once known. Sophie had to smile to herself.

  “You didn't,” she lied. “What's up?”

  “I spent some time searching the archives yesterday. It was quiet around here, so I had time. I found a few things that will likely interest you. I found some things about Luc, too. You said his last name was Turcotte, yes?”

  Sophie's heart sped up, and she sat up, tossing the quilt she'd been wrapped up in aside. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Well…. Do you know where the Copper Falls cemetery is?”

  “That old one with the iron fence?”

  “That's the one. Can you meet me there in a half hour or so? I have some meetings this morning, but I really want you to see this.”

  Sophie got up. “Yes. I can be there in about twenty minutes.”

  “See you then.” With that, Thea hung up. Sophie went into the bathroom, cleaned up and got dressed. Her hair seemed even more insistent on looking insane than usual, and she pulled it into an unruly ponytail, hid the rest of it with a scarf. She quickly let the animals out of their shelters and fed them, then jumped into her car and sped down the highway.

  The tiny Copper Falls cemetery hadn't been in use since the early 1900s. There had been talk when she lived in town as a kid, of exhuming and moving the bodies to make space for a campground, but the whole idea had been scrapped after protests had disrupted village council meetings. So it remained, growing mossy and mostly unvisited except by tourists and grave hunters. Halloween was the busiest time of year for the mostly-forgotten site, idiots trying to play practical jokes, ghost hunters hoping to catch sight of something. For the most part, those buried there were men who had worked in the copper mines, fishermen, townspeople, and their families. There was a larger graveyard near the reservation, and it was still in use to this day, the final resting place for Ojibwa since the late 1700s.

  Sophie saw the wooden signs announcing that the cemetery was ahead and she slowed and pulled into the small gravel parking lot.

  She got out of her car, stuffed her keys in her pocket. The day was overcast, dreary. It felt like rain
, smelled like the nearby lake. The wind blew steadily, carrying a chill with it that had Sophie trying to shrink further into the wool sweater she'd tossed on.

  She put her hands in her pockets. She'd noticed Thea's silver truck already in the lot, the only other car. She made her way into the cemetery. Small headstones lined both sides of the central cobblestone path, like eternal soldiers. Some were broken and crumbled into the grass. Some had sunk into the sandy soil, and now sat crooked, looking drunk and dilapidated. Green moss covered most of the stones, and wildflowers grew thick around the edges, near the wrought iron fence.

  Thea stood to the left, near the southern corner of the cemetery. She raised her hand in a wave to Sophie, and Sophie waved back, picked up her pace. She picked her way between the headstones, making her way to Thea.

  “Morning,” Thea said.

  “Morning,” Sophie said.

  “This is for you,” Thea said, handing Sophie a thick manila folder. “This is all from that book of articles, and the one of correspondence. There are a few things in there that make no sense to me. Like this,” she said, opening the folder and taking out the photocopied article on top. “She was arrested near Mackinac for disorderly conduct. A woman claimed Migisi tried to kill her.” Sophie glanced at the date. 1864.

  “That's not exactly nearby,” Sophie said.

  “Right.”

  “'Migisi the Mad.' When did that nickname start?” Sophie asked her.

  “Not long after this. The first references I have found to it is 1866. That's in there, too.” She paused, watching Sophie. “Can I say something?”

  “Of course.”

  “I think you should take all of this,” she said, shaking the folder, “with a grain of salt. These were people who didn't understand Migisi, who didn't know her. I included writings from our own people as well. They note a change in her, primarily in her magic.”