by Tina Donahue
She moaned. “It’s like I’m trying to read Greek. I don’t understand a word.” She shoved the book at him. “Is this in a foreign language?”
The text had an old-fashioned look, as it would during medieval times, but was still standard English.
Her friends had fallen silent and regarded her worriedly. Trish spoke first. “Start on page three, past the index. It’s the easiest spell.”
Wren flipped back to the front of the book, stared, then bit her lip.
As far as Roman could see, there was a simple ingredient list and instructions on what to mix for a potion to help plants grow. Uncomplicated stuff. He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Do you mind reading this aloud for me?”
“I can’t.” Misery filled her face. “I don’t understand the words. I can’t even pronounce them.” She covered her eyes and trembled.
Exactly as she did whenever her craving for blood intensified, which always happened when she was depressed or horny. He caressed her closer and spoke to her friends. “She needs to feed. I hate to ask, but can you guys give her a few drops? Not enough for her to turn you, but to relieve her agony?”
“No.” Wren slapped her hand over his mouth. “Never ask anyone that on my behalf.”
Trish stood. “He shouldn’t have to. We should’ve offered.”
The three witches pulled Wren from the chaise and toward a nearby cabana. Cassie spoke over her shoulder to him. “Give us a few minutes.”
He nodded, understanding their need for privacy.
Wren argued the entire way, refusing to use them for her base desires.
Trish tried to reason. Sabrina pleaded. Cassie smacked Wren’s ass and scowled. “Quiet. We’re doing this, so get with the program.”
They disappeared behind a black-and-white striped curtain.
Not wanting to eavesdrop, he scoured the text. Surprisingly, he found the spells and potions easy to read and understand. However, none provided magic to defeat a warlock. He plowed through the other volumes and eventually found an ancient spell to use against a demon.
“We’re back.”
He glanced up at Cassie’s voice.
Wren’s complexion had pinked up, her craving gone for the moment, her mouth still turned down.
He joined her. “What’s the matter?”
The others backed away.
Wren kept her face lowered. “I’m ashamed to have done that.”
“Don’t be. You were hurting. Friends are supposed to help you get past the worst shit. Right guys?”
The ladies nodded.
He lifted the book he’d been reading. “I found a spell to annihilate a demon. Can you adjust it to work on a warlock?”
“Let’s see.” Trish took the book from him and read, the same as Cassie on her right side and Sabrina on her left.
He kissed Wren’s temple. “How’s your stomach?”
She shrugged.
“Not good?”
“If you’re wondering if it hurts any longer, it doesn’t.” She chewed her thumb then froze.
He wasn’t sure why. “What is it?”
“My shadow. Yours…”
His pointed in the correct direction given the angle of the sun, hers in the other. “I should have warned you. Since being turned, my shadow goes the wrong way. Or did before Dimitri switched our powers.”
She turned, trying to get her shadow to right itself. No dice. “What else haven’t you told me?”
“Nothing major. Dogs growl when I approach, but, for some reason, I seem to draw cats. Other than those things—”
“Did you still have a reflection before you got my powers? Will I have one now that I have yours?” She grabbed a spoon to check.
He took it from her. “My reflection was still there, but flipped, like my shadow was.”
She threw a fork. The tines embedded in the mansion wall. “This whole situation sucks.”
He couldn’t argue the point. “Maybe since you’re no longer hungry for…ah… You might be able to concentrate.” He opened another book and held it between them. “Let’s see if this baby has anything we can use.”
She glanced at it then away.
His gut clenched. “Still Greek?”
“I could be wrong, but the words look like Russian to me.”
The text was English and confirmed the awful truth. Not only had Dimitri obliterated her magic knowledge, he’d made it impossible for her to regain it. Fucking prick. However, he’d never defeat them. Roman wouldn’t allow it. He spoke to her friends. “You guys are going to have to teach me this stuff.”
Wren made a face.
The others lifted their eyebrows.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” He jabbed the book. “I can read this. Wren can’t. Granted, I haven’t been good at the magic I’ve tried, but—”
“Not good?” Wren flapped her hands. “That’s the understatement of the millennium. You melted my sink. You set my okra on fire.”
“Only because I didn’t know what I was doing. Your buddies can teach me.” He hoped. “Right, ladies?”
“We’ll try.” Cassie pointed to the lounges. “Everyone sit. We have lots to go through. First, we’ll look for the correct spell, then we’ll teach Roman how to use it.”
Sabrina and Trish nodded.
Wren raced around the pool, faster than a whirlwind.
Before he could follow her, Cassie clutched his wrist. “Don’t interfere. She needs to run off her anxiety.”
Currently, she was skittering up the mansion wall toward the second story. “Tell me what we’re doing will work.” He kept his voice low. “It has to.”
“We’ll do all we can.”
“We should call Lael, too.” He’d just remembered her. “She’s working on a solution. Anyone have a phone?”
Trish pulled out hers and made the call. She and Lael spoke for minutes, Trish’s voice too low for Roman to catch details. She ended the call. “Lael hasn’t come up with anything yet, but said we’re doing the right thing by surrounding Wren with our love and protecting her with it.”
He would have liked something more concrete. “Think Dimitri will care?”
Cassie tossed a book. It hit Roman in his chest. “Start looking for spells we can use.” She pointed at Sabrina and Trish. “You guys, too.”
Everyone hunkered down and worked.
Wren paced the mansion roof.
He almost shouted for her to be careful but didn’t. It wasn’t necessary. Given her new powers, she could fall off the building, land on her head as he had, then walk away unscathed.
This goddamn blew.
Afternoon turned to evening. The ladies conjured tiki torches to eat away the gloom. Steaks sizzled on the grill, Cassie’s magic flipping them for an even sear. Potato salad, slaw, corn on the cob, and other sides filled a poolside table.
Sabrina played Barry Manilow tunes until the others complained and replaced him with Justin Timberlake’s newest recording.
Cassie finished her beer and stifled a belch. “Let’s compare notes.”
Each in the group had found several spells to defeat dark magic. Unfortunately, for the conjuring to work, the demon—or, in this case, the warlock—had to be subdued first. They couldn’t simply use the spell on Wren and get the result they wanted without Dimitri’s cooperation.
Having returned from her mad pacing and climbing, Wren rocked on the chaise. Her shoulders drooped, but at least she seemed weary to Roman rather than craving.
He rubbed her knee. “Doing okay?”
She nodded. “Think you’ll be able to get the magic right?”
If not, he’d die trying. “Sure.” He spoke to the others. “Tell me what to do.”
Cassie wiggled her finger at the steaks, making them flip over again. The grease popped and sizzled. “First, you have to believe magic in your gut. It has to become a part of you like your DNA. Otherwise, you’ll never get this right.”
“Okay. How do I do that?”
<
br /> “The usual way.” Sabrina scooped potato salad onto her plate.” You have to open your heart to all possibilities.” She frowned. “Do you still have a heart?”
It wasn’t beating, but it had to be there. “You bet.”
Trish leaned up. “Close your eyes and drain everything from your thoughts. Let magic approach and fill you.”
Sounded like a yoga exercise. “You bet.” He did as they said. Sounds intruded. The breeze wafted past, cooling his sweaty skin. The steaks smelled awesome, even better than pepper poppers. Something whisked past. He guessed a bug.
Wren bumped his shoulder. “How are you doing?”
“Lousy. Maybe you guys should leave.”
“Nope.” Cassie lounged in her chair. “Keep practicing.”
Hours passed, the ladies’ meal long over. He should have been hungry and exhausted, but his concern for Wren kept him alert and cluttered his brain. Come on, you can do this.
He—they—had no choice.
Eventually, his mind cleared and he relaxed. Hell, he soared. Something akin to joy and peace filled him, though these feelings owned an edge, making him tingle every-fucking-where.
His lids snapped up.
Dawn had arrived.
Cassie was asleep, her mouth hanging open. Sabrina was out, too, curled in a tight ball, loose fists to her heart. Trish sprawled on the lounge chair, her snores constant and loud.
Wren was back on the roof.
He shouted, “It worked!”
She somersaulted through air, landed on her feet, and raced to him. “You accepted magic?”
“I think it accepted me.” He told her what he’d felt.
“That’s it.” She clapped her hands.
The others had awakened.
Cassie pointed at him. “Time to teach you some spells and put you through your paces.”
*****
With her blood lust calmed for the moment, and Roman having succeeded in welcoming magic, Wren wanted to dance around the pool. This might just work, which would return her to normal and put him back to where he’d been before. Craving and miserable.
She sank to the concrete.
He looked over and put up his hand, stopping Cassie’s newest order. “Hold it.” He spoke to Wren. “What’s wrong?”
She pleaded with her friends. “We have to find a spell to help him, too. I won’t do this until you promise me we’ll ease his suffering. And no way am I feeding on you guys again. It. Won’t. Happen.”
“Relax.” Trish finished her Pop-Tart and conjured another, this one also strawberry. “We’ll put a spell for him on our agenda. But this first.”
Cassie guzzled her coffee, used magic to refill her cup, and gave him her hardest stare. “Read the first spell on this sheet.” She tossed it to him. “Feel the words in your heart and soul, if you still have one.”
“He does.” Wren rubbed his thigh. “He’s a good man.”
He beamed, mouthed the spell to himself, then frowned. “This is for me to conjure a pool boy named Nuncio.”
Cassie nodded. “Baby steps. You need to prove you have what it takes before we allow you to do the serious stuff. Go on. We need Nuncio to serve us a proper breakfast.”
Sabrina giggled. “Make him hot. Give him a tat like yours.”
Roman twisted his mouth but finally recited the spell, enunciating each word.
Wren held her breath.
Nothing happened.
“Shit.” He rubbed his forehead.
“Again.” Cassie shot him a snotty look. “And mean what you say this time.”
“He already did.” Wren gave her friend the finger. “Be nice.”
“Are you saying you don’t want out of this mess? You’d rather join hands and sing Kumbaya?”
“I. Never. Implied. That.”
“Ladies. Let’s focus.” He lifted the sheet. “I’m doing this until I get it right. No, wait. I won’t settle for anything less than perfect.” He squared his shoulders and mouthed the spell.
My hero. Tears filled Wren’s eyes.
“Okay, stand back.” Roman raised his face and said the spell, his voice resonant and firm, but also laced with tenderness.
Men’s swim trunks appeared then dropped to the concrete.
Wren squealed. “You did it!”
“Almost.” Trish licked strawberry filling off her lips. “Again.”
He repeated the spell so many times, his voice grew hoarse. In addition to more swimwear, body parts appeared: a finger, toe, hair, eyelashes, a front tooth.
“God.” He rocked on the chaise. “This is fucking impossible.”
“Nonsense.” Cassie bit into her jelly donut. “A five-year-old witch could do this.”
“Oh yeah?” He bared his teeth. “A five-year-old mortal can code. Can you?”
She ignored him.
Wren kissed his knuckles. “You need a break. Preferably a nap. You’ve been up twenty-four hours straight.”
“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”
Doggedly, he persisted despite what a workable spell would bring. Him returning to his vampire hell, existing rather than living through each slow minute of every endless day.
Wren hurt for him as she never had for anyone else and longed for a spell or potion to make him human again so he could start over.
At this moment, peace seemed a distant memory.
Sweat poured down his face and chest. He’d tensed his muscles to the point they bulged. A vein popped out on his temple. If he hadn’t been a para, she would have feared him dying. Right now, she worried about his sanity. “Maybe we should stop for a few minutes.”
“No.” He gripped the paper and said the spell again.
A hot Latin guy appeared next to Cassie.
She pumped her fist. Sabrina waved shyly. Trish gaped.
Wren threw her arms around Roman. “You did it!”
“Not entirely. He’s not wearing swim trunks.”
Cassie ogled his rigid cock and tight balls. “All the better.”
“Wrong. I have to get this perfect.” He read the spell backwards, as they’d taught him. Naked Nuncio disappeared. “Let’s do it again.”
Took him fifty tries, but, at last, Nuncio was clothed and sporting a tat.
Wren’s friends squealed in delight.
Roman collapsed on the chaise, dead to the world.
“Let him sleep.” Wren shot a warning look at everyone. “He deserves it.”
No one challenged her command. They crowded Nuncio, flirting with him. He flashed a smile, his teeth impossibly white against his coppery skin.
Wren wanted to use the time to search for a spell or potion to help Roman, but each book appeared in a language she didn’t understand. Several scripts looked as if they belonged to an alien civilization. Giving up, she watched over him, her concern and affection crowding out her craving. For a few minutes.
Her urge to feed returned with ruthless ferocity, blasting into her, crawling through her veins clear to her marrow.
No. Perspiring badly, she fought her weakness, refusing to indulge in blood again, or ever.
Cassie, Trish, and Sabrina horsed around with Nuncio. One by one, he tossed them in the water. They shrieked and laughed.
Roman woke.
Crud. “Is the noise bothering you? Want to go inside?”
He rubbed his face. “No, I’m fine. Let’s get back to it.” He made Nuncio disappear seconds before he hit the water.
Cassie swore.
“Out of the pool and into your seats.” Roman pointed at her and the others. “You need to help me practice.”
As he did, Wren tried to absorb the magic or at least make sense of it. No good. This was like listening to a physician explain a complicated medical procedure in Swahili.
Goddamn you, Dimitri. If it took eternity, she’d get him for this.
Roman practiced increasingly difficult spells. Hours passed. Twilight turned to night. The tiki torches blazed. Burgers and hot dogs roasted on t
he grill.
If they smelled good, Wren didn’t notice. Everyone’s blood scent drew her. Like Roman, her friends were also AB positive. The perfect donors.
She tensed and pushed the thought from her brain.
It returned and persisted.
Unglued, she grabbed Roman’s hand.
He looked up from the spell he was reciting, his eyes glittering in the subdued light. “What?”
She yanked him off the chaise, lifted him above her head, and threw him into the pool.
He sank to the bottom then popped back up and broke the surface. “Hey!”
“Stay there.” She spoke to her friends. “I need privacy. Now.”
They rushed into the mansion.
Wren tore off her bikini. “Ditch the jeans.”
“What? Why?”
She was hungrier than she’d ever been. Hoping for calm, she took several deep breaths and lifted her face to the sky. A billion stars winked at her. “Why do you think?”
“Oh…you need a booster shot?”
“Badly.” She couldn’t keep still.
“Give me a sec.” He paddled to the shallow end.
As he peeled his sodden jeans away, she knifed into the water and swam as quickly as she ran, reaching him faster than a torpedo would have. “Are you up to this?” She kissed his throat and pecs. “Did you rest enough?” She pressed her cheek to his and cupped his balls. “Do you need—”
“Quiet.” He claimed her mouth, his kiss wild, as she liked. He pushed her against the wall, his size holding her prisoner.
She surrendered as she always would with him, whether blood lust was in the equation or not. He was her guy. The man she’d searched for from the moment she became a woman. Without him, she’d have no reason to go on.
He plunged his tongue deeper and fondled her boobs, his touch rough.
Heaven for a horny witch.
Uncivilized sounds poured from him, exciting her more. His cock blossomed against her thigh, tapping it, demanding entrance into her pussy.
Fine with her.
She spread her legs, her sheath aching for his rod.
On a coarse grunt, he pulled his mouth free, lifted her out of the water, and plopped her on the still-toasty concrete.
“What are you doing?” She tried to slide back into the water.
