Witch for Hire

by Shyla Colt

  “Oh, you’ve trained her well, my friend.”

  I clench my jaw, and Cristobal runs his thumb across my cheek. “Stop on the way back and get a drink from the bar, relax, and catch up.”

  I nod and stand. Unsure of the protocol, I opt to ignore Blazh as Haljoins me and we walk toward the bar.

  “I am glad to see you again, Lou,” Hal says. I turn to meet her gaze at the bar. Her face softens, and I catch flashes of the girl I grew up with. “I’ll tell you a secret. I always liked you. Growing up you were kind, funny, and humble. For that reason, I’ll let you know things have changed while you were gone.”

  There’s a hidden message thrown into those words I can’t decipher. Is it a warning or a threat?

  “You’d do well to watch your back, and keep your eyes open.”

  I want to ask her to explain, but here too many eyes and ears are focused on us. “I will. How have you been?”

  “Better than ever. I know you were surprised to see me here with Blazh. It’s not what I pictured for my future when I was younger. But I have something I never did before.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The power to make my own decisions.”

  The words aren’t what I expected. The confusion must show because she smirks. “Whatever happens next is because of choices I made. No more being a cog in the wheel, or a chess piece waiting to be played.”

  With furrowed brow, I shake my head. “Did you think you were before?”

  She gives a casual shrug of her shoulder. “How could I not be? You left, so you must relate to a point.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I was the good girl who seemed perfectly content with her lot in life? This is exactly why I had to leave.” Her eyes blaze with anger I can’t understand. “Enough about the family history. Let’s order those drinks.”

  I want to hate my time, but as I raise my hands above my head and dance with Hal on the floor I’m having fun. I laugh as the drinks lower my inhibitions, and I relax for the first time since the move. I’m not getting bad vibes off Hal. She’s intense, flirting with the darker side of things, but not completely corrupt. Unless she hides it very well. Cristobal will fill me in on what Blazh had to say later. Right now, I want to enjoy this moment while it lasts.

  “So, you and Cris?” She bumps her hip into mine in time to the music, a catchy pop song.

  I laugh. “Yeah.”

  “Wow.”

  “I think I was a goner the first time I saw him.” I laugh. I’m making conversation and playing a role, but I’ll be damned if I’m not speaking the truth. I know he’s listening to my every word. The true challenge of having a vampire boyfriend … Ex-boyfriend.

  “How did you met?”

  “A case of all things. There was an instant attraction. I would’ve ignored it. Instead, he pursued me.”

  She laughs. “Of course he did. Those old school boys and their notions of courtly love so foreign to us modern women. Was it all poets, gifts, and pining?”

  The heat rushes to my face.

  “Oh, it was.” She claps her hands, and I shake my head as the song changes, and she holds out her hand. I spin her out and back to me as we fall into a comfortable state of being. She’s stronger than she used to be. Maybe she can manage the magic instead of the other way around.

  Cristobal grew up in another time. When everyone was in love with love, and men went above and beyond to prove themselves worthy of the four letter word. He swept me off my feet like a wave. Of course, I fell hard. The bastard ruined all men for me. I think I knew it deep down.

  “Water?”

  “Please.” We make our way from the empty dance floor.

  “Why run then?”

  “I was a baby, and he was … intense is an understatement. You’ve seen the way they can focus on something, imagine all the power of that honed in on to you. It’s heady but terrifying.”

  “Damn.”

  “Are you and Blazh …” I trail off, not sure what to call them.

  She snickers. “Strictly business. I don’t know if you heard, but it’s not good to mix that with pleasure.”

  “Guess I missed the memo,” I say as the bartender slips us two glasses of water. They don’t even pretend to be human here. It drives home how different my life has become.

  “Is there anyone in the picture?”

  She snorts. “No, I’m busy building my own legacy now. I’m also not convinced love is a real thing. It’s a gamble. A risk when you offer up that much power to another person. It’d take one hell of a man to get me to even consider it.”

  “You sound cynical.”

  She shakes her head, her honey brown hair flying around her face, catching a little on the sweat from the dancing. “I had a front-row seat for male oppression from my brothers and father. It makes a girl gun shy.”

  “Yeah, I could see that.”

  We glance across the room as we rehydrate. The boys shake hands over the table, wrapping things up.

  “We should do this again. I had fun, and clearly, you aren’t scandalized by the company I keep these days.”

  “Can’t throw stones when I live in a glass house.” Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

  Blazh gestures us with a finger.

  “Master beckons.”

  Blazh smirks and the change is disturbing. I don’t want to forget who this man is and what he’s done. It could lead to a slip-up, and that could be fatal.

  ***

  “What did he say?” I ask as I walk inside my house with him on my heels.

  “He wanted to know if our truce would hold. I think he worried that you coming back was a sign of an impending attempt at toppling his throne. Your roommate is sleeping.”

  “Still creepy. I’ll leave her a note, so she doesn’t worry when she wakes up, and I’m gone. Are you even interested in that?”

  “No, New Orleans has never interested me.”

  “Why not?” I pull a large suitcase out of my closet and set it on my bed. It was torture waiting until we were in the house where my silencing spells kept our conversation private. You can never be too careful when dealing with very old and excessively paranoid vampires. It’s probably in his blood. Vlad was unhinged.

  “There’s plenty of power, yes, but it comes at a price I don’t want to pay. Their cover has been blown, and people are always challenging Blazh for it. My ambitions lay elsewhere. Besides, those there are loyal to him. Whoever managed to take his spot would have to sleep with both eyes open for eternity. That’s no way to live.”

  “Do you think he believed you?”

  Cristobal shrugs. “He has no reason not to.”

  “That’s not the same as yes,” I say, pointing at him.

  “No, but he’s more cautious than most. I expect him to watch us for a time before he fully retreats.”

  “Have you met his maker?” I ask, unable to keep the question to myself.

  His lips form a straight line and he grimaces. “A few times.”

  My jaw drops. “No way. Cristobal,” I lean in, studying his expression, “Vlad’s still out there?”

  “Yes, I suspect he’ll be like the proverbial cockroach around after everything else has gone to hell, and people no longer exist.”

  “I’m not living with you full time by the way.”

  “At least half.” He gives in easily, making my blood boil. I’m itching for a fight. I need to remember why I was angry with him in the first place. This felt too much like a real date. It’s blurring the clear lines I’d drawn between us.

  “Fine.”

  “Admit it. You had fun tonight.”

  “I did. It was nice to touch base with Hal, and discover she’s not as far gone as I feared.”

  “It’s only a matter of time—” he cautions.

&nbs
p; “She could sustain as she is.”

  “Could is not the same as will,” he says pointedly.

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “You misunderstood my statement. You enjoyed yourself with me.”

  I move to the dresser, pull open a drawer, and remove a few maxi dresses. “Fun isn’t the problem.”

  “Then what is? Can you even name it?”

  “Choice. I need to know my decisions are my own.” I grip the jeans in my hands until my knuckles protest.

  “Do you really think there could’ve been a different outcome for us?” He turns me to face him, and boxes me in, pressing the length of our bodies together. My heart rate takes off like a prized thoroughbred on a race track. “Tell me the fire between us is no longer burning molten hot. I tire of waking in my bed alone and returning the same way. For the first time in years, my heart is outside of my chest in the same city. How long must I wait?” He trails his fingers through my short locks. “I need to taste you, scent you, mark you. Every moment I’m not inside of you is a travesty.”

  “Cristobal.” My voice shakes.

  “I’ll wait for you, dove. But I won’t allow you to pretend you are unaffected.”

  I grip his shoulders unable to keep my hands to myself. I want to rub against him like a cat in heat. His lips hover inches from mine. His eyes are golden and full of everything I’m trying to believe is a lie.

  “Tell me what you want, Louella.”

  I bite the corner of my lip as I hold his gaze. “Kiss me.”

  He cradles my cheekbones and holds me in place while he kisses me. My knees weaken. He holds me tighter, taking my weight as my lids lower. My lips part under his onslaught and I moan as his tongue slips inside and his flavor floods my mouth. I tilt my head, seeking more of him, and he delivers. I moan when my body comes to life. I’ve been asleep without him. Now the fire is burning brightly in my belly, my panties are soaked, and my heart is full enough to burst. I don’t want to stop. I need this more than I need oxygen. Moving my arms to wrap around his neck, I raise up on my tiptoes.

  The possessive growl that rumbles through him thrills me. I’m making this magnificent being lose his rigid control. I’m playing with fire. It doesn’t matter when you love the burn. Desperation for oxygen parts us. I cling to him, wishing I could freeze this moment in time, and forget about everything that complicates the pure love we found and turned a sure thing into a questionable one. I soak him in as our foreheads rest together. In few more seconds, we’ll both retreat to our corners. He kisses my forehead and releases me, holding onto my hips until my legs decide to work on their own once more.

  Taking a deep breath, I smooth my hands down my dress. “I should finish packing.”

  “I’ll be in the living room.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to hold my silence. I can’t fall victim to passion. It led me down the wrong path before. This time my decisions must be made from the head and the gut. Magical enchantment is a bitch. I breathe through my nose and continue to pack. The world won’t stop because I’m having trouble not jumping my ex’s bones. I’m due in the shop tomorrow morning, and afterward Fel, Sacha, and I will get to work on Witch for Hire. The brainchild from the family meeting. My bones ache just thinking about the hours I’ll be putting in tomorrow. Finished with packing, I jot down a note and follow Cristobal, who insists on carrying everything, out of the house.

  One good thing about being exhausted is the inability to focus. I’m falling into the welcome nothingness of sleep before he pulls the car out onto the main road. Barefoot, I walk over the grass outside the house, obeying the intriguing pull I felt when I first returned. I find myself walking toward the tone beacon in the distance. It must be early because the sky is a purplish hue and the blades tickling my toes are wet with dew. I step through the entryway, and I’m immediately drawn to the pond in the center of the large bricked-in area.

  The circular body of water is surrounded by natural stones, crowded in by lemon balm, water mint, red bergamot, thyme, and watercress sprinkled in with creeping lavender. It’s a witch’s garden. The more I look, the more I see. In the middle of the water, candle spheres cast light, illuminating nature’s beautiful display. Farther out, large moon flowers weave their way around a white arch. An ornate cream-colored wrought iron bench rests beneath it.

  Their tropical scent melds with the musky notes of White Jasmine. The white petals of the tuber roses, white lace, Madonna Lily, and Evening Primrose reflect the moonlight, creating an ethereal vibe. A thick slab of natural wood rests on top of a pile of natural stones creating an altar. He’s consulted with a witch to get everything just so. It’s a dream plucked out of my head and created. The peace that flows through me is a refreshing drink of water for the soul.

  My white gown trails over the grass as I explore every nook and cranny. I straighten, placing a hand on my belly as my stomach sours. Cold sinks into my bones. I shiver. The dew becomes sticky. I glance down and gasp. My shift is red with blood. The warm, thick liquid coats the ground. Splat. Splat. The metallic smell tells me, but I have to see it. Wipe a drop off my face, and it comes away with blood. Everywhere I look, the flowers are turning red. I can taste the copper flavor in my mouth.

  My heart slams against my sternum. A thick darkness rushes toward me. A scream wells up in my chest. I open my mouth to scream words of protection and swallow the scarlet fluid. It doesn’t choke me or taste bitter. It’s sweet and rich, like a well-aged wine. I feel my power increase two-fold. I plant my feet firmly and prepare to cast. The red moon hangs in the air.

  “Louella.”

  I startle awake, wrapped in Cristobal’s arms.

  “You had a bad dream. Are you okay?”

  I pry my lids open. “I-I don’t think it was just a dream. Think it was a prophecy. I need a pen and paper.” I wiggle from his arms across silken sheets. Silken sheets? “Where am I?”

  “In my room. I did not want you to wake alone and disoriented. Your room is prepared and beside my own.”

  I peer down at the dress I’m still wearing. The show of respect makes me smile. “Thank you.”

  He leaves with a rush of air and returns with a pen and paper. “Tell me about this dream.”

  I relay everything in detail as I jot it down. I’m too tired to view it with fresh eyes now, but tomorrow I’ll reexamine it.

  “The last thing I saw was the blood moon. We’re all in danger, and the fact that it’s linked to the moon makes me think there’s a timeframe involved. I need to see the dream through to the end.”

  “You’ve never had an inclination toward clairvoyance.”

  “Never been bonded or thought blood would taste like a full-bodied wine either.”

  Cocking his head to the side, he places his hand on mine, his touch only slightly cool. “Do you want to try—”

  “No,” I say offhandedly as I sketch a few more details to compare to the actual garden I’ve yet to visit. Spent, I rest everything on the nightstand. “I should go to my rooms.” My words are slurred as my sudden burst of energy dispels, turning me into a zombie in need of one of two things: sleep or an astronomical amount of caffeine.

  “I need something other than this to wear.”

  He places something soft in my hand. I pry my eyes open, and my jaw drops at the sight of the black and orange striped pants and matching orange T-shirt with a pumpkin face.

  “You kept this?”

  “It was never a matter of if you’d come back, only when for me.”

  I move onto my knees. “But what I really want to know is if you still have your matching set.”

  He chuckles. “And if I do?”

  “I’ll sleep here tonight if you wear them.”

  He smiles. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Esçhete.”

  I used to live to see him smile the way he is now. He never understood
what casual meant until me. He taught me so much. I only wanted to return the favor. He walks away, and I wiggle out of the dress, changing into the pajamas. I’m under the covers when he returns in a matching top paired with his silk pants. I can’t hold back the laughter that bubbles up.

  “Only you could ever get me to participate in such frivolous and outlandish behavior.”

  “You say the nicest things,” I say as I catch my breath. “Come on, Master vamp. You’re adorable right now.”

  His jaw ticks, but I can see the humor lurking in his eyes.

  “This is what it takes to get you into bed? Well then, fair lady, if it pleases you. I prostrate myself before thee.” He kneels beside the bed. “Have I found favor with you?” His accent thickens, and I struggle against the urge to melt like chocolate in the sun. “Perhaps I’ve earned a token of your affection?”

  “I’m fresh out of braids of hair and handkerchiefs.”

  “Would you give it to me if you had it?”

  Our tones are light, but the conversation is meaningful.

  “Maybe.” Reaching out, I run my hand down the planes of his face.

  “I want to show you something.” His voice is soft and he refused to look at me.

  I prop myself up against the bed.

  “Show me?”

  The boyish grin he gifts me before flashing away, eats away at the resistance I cling to in order to keep him at a distance.

  He returns with a thick piece of paper. “It’s been sometime since I worked with charcoal, so you’ll have to forgive the poor quality.” He hands me the paper and I’m stunned to find a replica of myself. The woman in the picture is a fierce warrior with expressive eyes, full lips plumped to perfection and set with determined expression.

  “I don’t look like this.” I whisper trailing around the tiny curls he’s shaded in.

  “You do to me.” The bed dips once more with his weight. “When I was a boy the emphasis was on the arts. Creating music and art, and writing was a main focus during the Golden Age of Spain. We flourished. At that time, we were the first to have control over five continents at that point. Impressive for a country that had just been founded less than twenty-five years ago.”