by Billi Jean
“But you’ve blocked her from helping you, ya daft bastard!”
Markee really wasn’t helping, but he was amusing. “Do you ever drink like that?” she asked Alex.
Alex’s eyebrows drew down and he spared Markee a glance. Markee belched loudly, fisted his chest, and said, “Excuse me.”
“Not hardly, why?”
“It would be interesting to see you like that. Markee is quite…talkative.”
“Aye, well, I can talk without enough whisky to pickle a vat of onions. Now, what do you think I plan to do, witch? I’d like to hear this.”
“Are you badgering me for answers? If you have a plan besides me breaking this potion, then spill it.”
Alex grinned and suddenly scooped her up, hugging her under his chin. “I plan to kill the miserable bastard. He’s hurt you, eh? For that, he deserves to die. For my father and brother, for everything. I have a witch. What can he do?”
“But my powers are bound! What if I can’t break the potion? I will be—”
“I don’t just have one potion, witch.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alex smiled. Her expressive face ran the gamut of emotions—worry, confusion, fear then realisation and now pissed off woman if he had to guess. She thumped her knuckles on his chest and narrowed her brilliant eyes at him.
“You had potion to cure me the whole time! How could you? How could you have that and not tell me!” she demanded, then rushed on to say, “Why tell me now?”
“Because you’ve been worrying over not being able to break this potion. If I’d told you before now that I could return your powers, Zith might have got the truth out of you if he’d captured you. I couldn’t chance that, or you.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened then she did the most amazing thing—she jumped in his arms and kissed him. Not just kissed him, she went wild as if he’d done the most amazing thing and she couldn’t wait for them to be alone.
“Alex,” she whispered in his ear, “I want you. Right now.”
Holy mother of all. He’d been all over Sorcha for three days and never once had she told him such a thing. Maybe because he didn’t give her a chance, but still, a man couldn’t let his woman tell him such a thing without rewarding her. “Markee, get down to the inn again.”
“Like hell I will, you two need to stop because I’m not leaving.”
“I want you right now, Alex, I want to lick every inch of you then make you come so hard you sprain something,” she whispered in his ear.
This could not be happening. Sorcha, telling him she wanted him and she wanted to lick him? Lick him… His eyes locked on her lips and he yelled, “Markee!”
“I’m no’ leavin’ damn it, no matter what she whispers in your damn ear! We have a plan remember?”
Shit. Markee was right. How could he not have this though? “You’d go to your knees for me and love me that way? Gift me with that?” he managed to ask in her ear.
“Yes, I want to suck every inch until you fall down.”
“Shit! Sweetheart you can’t say things like that to man—”
She cut him off with a happy squeal and kissed him so deeply he was ready to take her whether Markee was there or not.
She pulled away, taking those lush lips with her and cupped his face. He could barely breathe. Damn woman, he was the man, he controlled their breathing, not her.
“Together, we will kill this jerk, okay? I really like it when you call me sweetheart, too, Alex.”
A chill raced down his back as if she’d tossed him into the loch. She couldn’t have said anything that would have caused him to lose his erection as quickly. “Not a fucking chance.”
“What?” She blinked and frowned at him, clearly understanding him, but not liking it one bit. “You won’t call me sweetheart again?”
“You know what I mean, Sorcha. I’ve decided you’re not getting within a hundred miles of that sick bastard.”
“What? We already are within a hundred miles you idiot!”
“Aye, but you won’t be for much longer. Agni is going to—”
“Alex, you are not dumping me now. Not a chance. I won’t allow it no matter what you say or do. You need me.”
“Aye, you crazy bastard, you need ‘er,” Markee called with another loud belch.
“Markee go sleep off your damn drunk. Sorcha, I’m not chancing you getting hurt. I need you out of this—”
“No!” She tried to pull free, but he refused, holding her tightly with her legs around his hips. “Let me go this instant!” She struggled harder and damn it she was going to hurt herself so he reluctantly eased her to her feet. She tried to pace away from him, but he simply held her wrists.
She tossed her fiery curls and glared. Didn’t matter. This was right. Keeping her safe was right.
“Sorcha, I can’t risk it. Markee has another witch, she’ll impersonate you, and you will be—”
She lowered her head and hissed at him like a cat. “What! You have another witch all set to go, huh? Will you take her virginity too? Or simply gag her and drag her around with her wrists bound?” she demanded loud enough for Markee to hear.
“Ah, hell,” Markee grumbled.
“Damn it, Sorcha, I’m doing the right thing. The witch has been paid well—”
“Listen to yourself. Can you hear yourself? I can, I can hear you. But can you hear me? Markee can’t make me leave and you know what? Neither can you.”
She tried to jerk free, but he held on. He wanted her to understand that he’dd never meant to harm her, never would let it happen again, but she gasped and a tear fell from her eye.
“Ouch!”
He dropped her hands as if he’d burnt them. “Did I hurt you? I didnae mean to hold you so tightly.”
He bent to inspect her fragile wrists and she decked him. Amazed, he watched her hop around with her hand cradled to her bosom, sucking in a breath and wincing. Could she be more adorable?
“Sorcha, you’ll hurt yourself.”
The door opened and Agni shoved inside, closing it with a snap to turn to them with a grin. “Miss me?”
“What are you doing here, demon?” Alex growled.
“I thought I’d take Sorcha to safety, wolf.”
Sorcha gave him a shocked look that quickly turned icy cold. “You called Agni? To come collect me and make room for your new witch?”
“Hell no—”
“Aw, fuck, a fight. Got popcorn, dude?” Agni called to Markee.
“Agni!” Sorcha stormed.
Alex took a step towards the grinning bastard. “Shut the hell—”
“Stop!” Sorcha yelled. Her eyes blazed, full of hurt and anger. At him. He’d fucked up, but how else could he keep her safe? “Enough, I’ve had enough,” she said, throwing her arms up. “I’m leaving. If you’re too stupid to see what you have right in front of you, then you don’t deserve this second chance. I’m sure Agni agrees,” she snipped.
“Yep, I agree,” Agni said crossing his arms and tipping his chair back against the wall.
Alex ignored him. Later he’d kick his ass, for now, he stalked towards Sorcha, the name Agni driving him like nothing else she could have said. She tripped a chair in front of him and he stumbled, hitting his shin painfully on the thing.
“You’d go with him?” he accused.
She nodded, pissing him off even more. “You called him to take me away, so complaining now—”
“I didnae call him!”
She sniffed and turned away to glance around the room as if looking for something.
“What are you looking for?”
“My jacket, so I can leave with Agni.”
“You do care for him!” He didn’t bother keeping his voice down.
She winced at his bellow but calmly twisted her riot of curls and flicked a contemptuous gaze over him. He thought she might deny it, but she shrugged and released her hair.
“Of course I do. He values me. He would never throw me aside for another. He knows I’m strong.”
He grabbed her upper arm. “I know you’re strong. I value you, can’t you see that?” he muttered to her, not liking one bit that the nosey demon listened not ten feet away.
“No, I can’t. I’ve never been good enough for you, have I?” She shrugged his hand off and stormed to where they’d tossed her jacket yesterday at the end of the bed. They’d been in too much of a hurry after a brief walk outside to care where their clothes landed. He watched her stab her arms into the thing. He stalked to her side and jerked it half off her.
“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“You’ve met me before. You simply don’t remember. I was a young, stupid girl, thinking she’d found her mate, and you—” She broke off and gestured at him, pulling her jacket free simply because he was too stunned by her words to hold onto it. A memory stirred—the same one he’d experienced when he’d claimed her virginity.
Tears shone in her eyes, and as he watched, they spilled, unchecked, down her cheeks. “Last time I left thinking maybe in time you’d see I was worth something, but this time, I know I am worth something, Alex,” she whispered brokenly.
A memory, so distant he’d tried to latch onto it before but failed—until now—spread out before him at the sound of his name. This time he caught and held the images, forcing his mind to recall the details that had eluded him until now. It was from that time in his life when all he’d wanted was death for those who’d killed his kin, he realised. Those distant memories blurred with the rage he’d survived on. That part of his life had been full of killing. Out of that past, a sudden, sharp detail emerged and hit with the force of a battering ram right in his gut.
Sorcha—only a Sorcha barely blossoming into the woman standing before him now—her glorious curls had been tousled by the wind. He recalled watching her tug them out of her eyes to stare at him hopefully. She’d not yet reached immortality, so full of life and hope, that he’d glimpsed himself through her eyes. She’d thought him a hero.
In response, he had felt dirty and ragged. He’d known then he was no hero, no warrior of worth. He had felt more like an animal than a man—and in that moment he’d been disgusted with himself. Sickened with what he’d become—a killer out for nothing more than the blood he could spill.
He remembered now, clearly, as if someone had ripped the curtain away from his past. He had stared down at her beauty, and turned from her and the life full of love and laughter he had seen shining so brightly in her eyes.
That distant memory only took seconds to fill him with the knowledge of all he’d lost that far away day. He blinked and Sorcha—live and whole—stood facing him, tears drowning out the brilliance of her eyes. Her hand covered her mouth, but she didn’t back down from him. She challenged him now as she hadn’t all those years before. This time he grabbed hold of her with both hands and hauled her closer.
There was no chance of letting her go now. Not even to protect her.
“It’s always been I who didn’t deserve you,” he told her quietly. “I wanted to protect you, Sorcha, then and now, but I can see, now, you are a survivor, a warrior, much as I am. We will go together, win this fight, and then we will talk, eh?” He watched her beautiful face as the pain etching her brow slowly eased.
Markee’s chair creaked and Agni muttered something about it was about time.
Alex ignored them both. Instead, he focused solely on Sorcha. She dropped her head, but not quickly enough for him to miss seeing her swipe at her cheeks. When she did look at him, she nodded cautiously.
“Perhaps, perhaps not, but if you try to set me aside again”—she folded her arms and glared at him—“I’ll fry you like a toad in the Mohave Desert.”
He held in his grin and resisted the urge to exhale in relief. “Aye, I suspect you will.”
A small ding sounded in the cabin.
“Markee! Agni! Take cover,” he shouted, tossing Sorcha down to protect her with his body. He dragged the heavy mattress on top of them with another curse at both men to get moving. Seconds later, the air exploded around them.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sorcha woke to the knowledge that ropes tied her—again. This time, though, she wasn’t upside down. That might or might not be a good thing though, she thought as she tentatively tested the bonds around her hands and feet and, like before, found them to be too tight for her to break. Another length of rope secured her waist. To what, she couldn’t decide.
Her head felt like someone had split it in half and forced the two pieces together again. Gradually, the pain became manageable and as it did, she took in the fact that she could hear nothing, yet the nothingness seemed vast, as if someone had left her alone in a huge cavern.
Slowly the pitch-black began to take shape around her. Directly above her ropes rose beyond her vision. She turned her head and saw that the ropes ended at the sides of what held her. A circle, she realised when she lifted her head and followed the lines. Someone had tied her to a circle? She turned her head left and right, straining to see more.
Not a circle. A circle surrounding a five-pointed star. Her heart, already beating wildly, took off like crazy.
Holy Danu, protect and guide me.
Think, think. What is going on? Where is Alex? She lifted her head again and even straining and twisting her body she couldn’t make out more than a few feet from her, still she sensed she was alone. If Alex were here, he’d be raging.
The bomb in their little cabin came back to her, the sudden explosion that had rocked their safety and still burnt along her memory. Ah, goddess, please, he’s alive, isn’t he? He couldn’t be dead. The wolf was too tough, too hard to die. Isn’t he?
She jerked and the structure swayed. Swallowing nervously she turned her head until she could look down. Far beneath her, blackness opened like a hungry mouth. She clenched her jaw and concentrated on looking, not freaking out. Below her, she could finally see the outer walls of some kind of grey rocky cliff.
Ah, goddess, she was high up, hung by ropes on a wobbly wooden—probably poorly made—structure. Her heart jumped to her throat when the circle swayed.
She looked around her and noticed for the first time she wore different clothing. A gown, an ancient, bright jade and gold velvet that clung to her in ways that made her aware that under it, she wore nothing at all. Disgusted she twisted her legs, trying to think of a way out of this.
The potion. She had to break the potion.
Alex. What did he say? He had two potions. One was the antidote, the other, what? Something to nullify the effect of this one completely?
Didn’t matter, she had to find calm and peace within herself in order to break this potion. Alex wasn’t here. No one was.
“The mighty Sorcha, I see you have grown into quite the little whore for your wolf.”
Rage. Zith, whatever!
Past the frantic beating of her heart, she heard the crisp thud of his boots on the floor. Each step felt like it drove a spike of fear through her chest. A shudder raced through her body, reminding her that the potion had her helpless. She was tied down and practically dangling over some chasm.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter. I should thank you in fact, for being so willing to distract the mangy dog.” Rage laughed a chilly, disgusting sound that made her heart stutter. The things he could do to her—things he had done to her—roared in her mind, fracturing her ability to remain calm.
He came into view then, and she fought to keep her face free of any emotion. How she’d dreamt of killing him, of shoving a blade into his heart and watching him die. He’d ended her life—her dreams—more effectively than Alex ever had. This mage, with his madness, had ripped her family apart. Her mother, her father, her sister and even her niece. The memory of that time tried to come to the front of her consciousness, but she cleared her mind, forcing herself to keep at the potion blocking her from her power. If she could just break that—maybe she’d have a chance of surviving this.
When she didn’t speak, Rage t
ilted his head, examining her more closely. The inked tattoos on his face were more numerous, but the madness in his dark eyes was the same. Dressed in ancient robes stitched with evil spells, he looked like some bald, depraved spectre. Except even to her dulled senses, his insanity oozed like a festering wound.
Dark, vulture-like eyes watched her, no doubt assessing just how terrified she was. She hid it, buried her fear deep and steadied her breathing. She’d not feed his sickness. He’d break her, surely, he would, but he’d have to work harder if he wanted to see her trembling in fear.
“I see they were correct, you are without your powers. A witch, powerless, yet still potent like a fine wine free of any sulphites, eh?” He laughed at his joke and she noticed with revulsion that he’d even tattooed spells on his tongue.
Another set of footsteps approached, but she refused to look. The potion still eluded her, like a thread refusing to push through the eye of the needle. What if Alex is gone? What if he died in the blast? Could such a thing kill him? And poor Markee?
“We are nearing the proper time, my lord.”
She didn’t move her head to indicate she’d heard but could see how pleased Rage became. He tossed his cloak back over his shoulders revealing tattoos of faces—images of the souls he’d stolen with his magic. Will my face stare out from that ghastly landscape? His eyes turned wild, the light from the torch the man carried casting his face into a mask of evil. Dark, soulless eyes, mad eyes, stared at her greedily.
“Ah, yes, the time, it draws near. Without the wolf to worry over, we are free to drain the witch and use her blood as the key to unlock the past.”
Holy Danu, sweet mother of us, protect and keep me safe.
Alex! Oh, Alex, I can’t break this potion.
And now, she’d run out of time with Alex. She’d die here, and if she guessed at the dark magic Rage used, she’d never come back to be herself again.
Worse, she’d never be able to tell Alex she loved him.
* * * *
Agni stopped Alex with a hand on his arm. “This is far enough. The spells keep me from going farther.”
