As our eyes met, my wrist started to tingle. The sensation strengthened to the point of almost pain, and I tore my gaze from him to glance down. My breath left my lungs when I spotted what looked like a black tattoo of a tornado on my skin. I rubbed at it, expecting the mark to smudge since it hadn’t been there before. When that didn’t work, I dipped my napkin in my water and tried to wipe it away.
“You’re not going to be able to get it off.” My head jerked up at the deep, masculine voice. I wasn’t sure where the waitress had gone, but the guy I’d been staring at slid into the booth, right across from me. Then he reached an arm over the table and turned it over so I could see the black tattoo of flames on his wrist. “Consort marks are permanent. You’ll never get mine off of you.”
Chapter Three
Warren
I couldn’t have been more wrong when I told my mom this morning that I wasn’t going to knock up the next woman I met. Then again, I hadn’t expected to find my consort sitting in a booth when I walked into the diner to grab a sandwich and coffee before the lunch crowd came in. First, there had been an overwhelming punch of lust when I saw her. That was enough for me to figure out who she was to me. Then I felt the mark as it appeared on my wrist, and that clinched it. I’d finally found my consort.
She was fucking gorgeous, with jet black hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and delicate features. She was sitting down, with the table hiding most of her body, but I had a great view of her perfect tits. When I slid into the booth across from her, I could tell she was tiny compared to me. And super confused.
“Consort mark?” Her lips pressed together in a flat line as she rubbed at her wrist again, hard enough to leave a red spot behind.
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her hand before she could do any more damage to herself. “Like I said, it’s never going to come off.”
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head in confusion. “I don’t have any ink. How did this get on my wrist?” She looked down at the empty bowl in front of her. “Was there something in my soup?” Her gaze darted out the window, and she looked up at the sky. “It’s still Wednesday, right? A little after eleven?”
I answered her questions in reverse from how she’d asked them. “It’s eleven fifteen. Still Wednesday. There wasn’t anything in your soup. You weren’t drugged, and you didn’t lose any time.”
Her blue eyes burned bright as she leaned forward and hissed, “You skipped the most important part! How did this tattoo show up on my wrist?”
She jerked her hand out of my hold, but not before I felt the searing heat of her skin as her temperature spiked. Then I heard Lou, who owned diner, cry out in alarm. When I looked over my shoulder towards the pass-through window into the kitchen, he was blowing out a tall flame that had sparked up from the grill. If he wasn’t an air warlock, he would have needed to grab a fire extinguisher to put out the flame.
Trusting him to handle the situation, I shifted my focus back to the woman sitting across from me. My consort—who, based on her confusion about the mark on her wrist, didn’t seem to know anything about how the magic world worked. And yet I was almost certain her anger was the cause of the flame on the grill.
Was my consort a witch with no inkling of her powers? The flame tattoo on my wrist sure as fuck seemed to indicate that she was a fire witch. “What do you know about magic?”
“Magic?” she echoed, her brow wrinkling. “Like David Copperfield?”
Fuck. Not only did my consort not know she was a fire witch; she wasn’t even aware that real magic existed in the world. “No, he didn’t have any actual magic. He was an illusionist.”
“Then I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “Are you really going to try to convince me that some kind of magic put this tattoo on my wrist?”
Having spent my entire life in Ashburn, it was sometimes easy to forget that not everyone knew about witches, warlocks, and magic. Unlike many other parts of the world, magic wasn’t a secret here. It was hard to hide so many witches and warlocks in such a tight-knit community, especially when the children of our coven grew up alongside kids from families without any magic.
The only times we had to hide our powers in Ashburn were when outsiders were in town. The woman sitting across from me might be a newcomer, but she was in no way an outsider. Not when she was the consort of the High Priest of the Ainsley coven.
Mabel, Lou’s consort who ran the diner with him and had been speaking to my woman when I’d walked in, chose the perfect moment to set a cup of coffee in front of me. It gave me the chance to think about how I wanted to approach the situation with my consort, who was eyeing my mug like it was filled with liquid gold. I pushed it in her direction and looked up at Mabel. “Bring me another, along with two club sandwiches and fries.”
Mabel’s lips curved up at the edges, and a pleased gleam filled her eyes. “Sweet potato or regular?”
“One of each.”
“You got it.” Her smile softened as she looked at my consort. “Do you take cream in your coffee, Opal?”
Opal. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I owed Mabel a bigger tip than usual for figuring out a way to share my consort’s name with me without making it obvious that’s what she was doing.
Opal nodded her head jerkily in answer to Mabel’s question and wrapped her hands around the mug.
“There should be plenty of sugar packets in the caddy at the end of the table, and I’ll bring some creamer over with Warren’s coffee.” Mabel gave me a mock glare. “Don’t scare off our newest waitress before I get back.”
Her warning didn’t come from any genuine concern that I’d do anything to frighten my consort. Mabel knew that I’d bend over backwards to keep Opal from harm—including from myself. It was more likely her way of letting me know that Opal planned on staying in Ashburn long enough that she needed a job.
“You didn’t have to give me your coffee.”
“You sure about that?” I looked down at her hands as they cradled the mug and smiled. “The way you’re holding on to that cup, I feel like I’d have to fight you for it.”
“If you don’t tell me about the tattoo on my wrist, you’ll have to fight with me over more than just the coffee,” she grumbled softly as Mabel dropped off my coffee and Opal’s cream.
When we were alone again, I gently took her hand and turned it over to trace the dark lines of the tornado on her pale skin. “This is a consort mark. It’s a visible symbol of your connection to the one person the Goddess intended to be yours.”
She yanked her hand away from me and rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. You’re that one person?”
“Yes.”
“I take it that means you think I’m supposed to be yours?”
I leaned closer to her. “I don’t just think you’re supposed to be mine. I know it.”
Her laughter was incredulous as she shook her head. “It sucks to be you then because I’ve never heard of your Goddess, and I don’t trust mysterious tattoos that appear out of nowhere and are supposed to determine my future.”
The added confirmation that she was unfamiliar with the world of magic wasn’t encouraging, but it wasn’t going to deter me from doing whatever it took to make her understand she was mine. Nothing would. I just needed to figure out a way to make her more receptive to the possibility. I decided to focus on the mark itself since it was impossible to argue its existence.
“Did your wrist tingle before the tornado appeared?”
Her pretty blue eyes went wide with surprise. “Yes! How did you know?”
“Was it shortly after I walked into the diner?”
Her dark hair trailed over her shoulder as she tilted her head to the side. “Seriously, how do you know these things?”
I kept going, knowing that I needed to knock her far enough out of her comfort zone that she’d consider the possibility of something that seemed impossible to her because she didn’t know about magic. “And the tingling turned in
to an almost stinging pain for a moment?”
“Okay, I’m officially freaking out.” She took a sip of her coffee and kept the mug in the air, as though she was using it as a barrier between us. “Do have special powers? Can you read my mind?”
“I can’t read your mind.” Twisting my arm around, I traced the flames on my wrist. “The reason I know what you felt in that moment is because I did too. This wasn’t on my skin before I walked in here and saw you. I experienced the same tingle you did. Felt the same burn of pain. The only difference is that I’ve been taught what it means.”
“That’s not the only difference,” she argued. “Yours is a tattoo flame, and mine is a tornado.”
“Which only makes me more certain they’re consort marks.” Using my magic, I lifted my napkin off the table and moved it to my lap. “Your mark is a tornado because I’m an air warlock. And I’m almost positive you’re an untrained fire witch, which explains the flames on my wrist.”
Chapter Four
Opal
I wanted to believe the hot guy sitting across from me—Mabel had called him Warren—was crazy. The stuff he was talking about sounded super bizarre, but it was hard to call it impossible when I was staring at the marks on our skin. Or when his napkin lifted in the air, opened itself, and settled on his lap. Then there was the strength of my reaction to him, which was totally out of character for me. Not to mention the strange pull I’d always felt towards fire since I was young. It had gotten me kicked out of more foster homes than I could count, but the spontaneous lighting of all my candles also served as a warning about the break-in at my apartment.
But witches, warlocks, magic, and consorts who were destined to be together? It was all more than a little overwhelming. My head was still spinning when Mabel came back to the table and set two sandwiches and set down baskets of fries. When she pulled a bottle of ketchup out of her apron and placed it in front of me, she twisted her arm so the black mark on the inside of her wrist was turned towards me. I gasped at the sight of the swirling wave on her skin. She offered me a reassuring smile and patted my back before she left us. It made me feel less alone...and more open to listening to what Warren had to say.
He nudged a sandwich in my direction. “I hope you’re hungry because I ordered this one for you.”
I planned to blast him for assuming I’d want something else to eat, but my stomach let out a loud rumble when the scent of bacon hit my nose. After that, there wasn’t any point in pretending that I wasn’t still hungry. “Thanks.”
We ate in silence until we’d polished off both sandwiches and most of the fries. When I pushed my empty plate away, he did the same before leaning against the back of the booth. “Do you want dessert? Mabel makes an exceptional apple pie.”
“No, what I’d like is some answers.”
“Ask me anything.”
There were so many things I didn’t understand, so I asked the first question that popped into my head. “What’s an untrained fire witch?”
“There are four kinds of magic; air, earth, water, and fire. Females who are born with magic are witches, while males are called warlocks. Most of us have an affinity for one type of magic, and that’s the kind of witch or warlock we are. Air warlocks, like me, are trained in air magic because that’s where our talents lay. Fire witches, like you, should be taught spells that focus on fire magic. Someone who’s never learned how to use their power is untrained. But it’s somewhat rare for a witch to be completely unaware of her power since magic tends to run in families.”
Whoa. He rattled it all off like it was so simple, but there was a whole lot in his answer for me to take in. While I was trying to wrap my head around it all, my cell rang. I pulled it out of my purse and accepted the call even though I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“Miss Smith?”
“Yes?”
“This is Joe from the auto shop. We took a look at your car, and the news isn’t great.” He went on to explain that the repairs were going to cost about seven hundred and fifty dollars, and they needed to order a couple parts. Even if I had the money to pay for it, they wouldn’t be able to start any time soon.
“It isn’t dangerous for me to drive the car for now though, right? Since it’s just a fan?”
Warren tugged the phone out of my hand and pressed it to his ear. “Joe? It’s Warren. Start on the repairs as soon as you can. I’ll make sure Opal is able to get around town safely until her car is ready.”
“What? No!” I tried to get the phone away from him, but he ended the call and set it on the table before I could grab it. “It’s one thing for you to order me coffee and a sandwich, it’s something completely different for you to authorize repairs to my car that I can’t afford right now.”
“You’re my consort. I’m not going to let you drive around my town in an unsafe vehicle.”
“Let? Your town?” I sputtered. “You say that like it should mean something to me.”
“If you’d been raised in the magic world, you’d understand that being my consort means I’ll do anything it takes to keep you safe. That includes making sure your car isn’t going to break down while you’re driving it.”
“I can take care of myself,” I huffed. “I’ve been doing it for as far back as I can remember.”
He reached over and stroked the inside of my wrist. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you aren’t capable of taking care of yourself. But it would mean a lot to me if you’d accept my help.”
In my experience, offers of support almost always came with strings. “Why? What do you want in return?”
“Just what you’re giving me right now; time to get to know each other.”
“I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here,” I warned. “If the fan on my car hadn’t acted up this morning, I’m not even sure I would’ve stopped in Ashburn.”
“Is there any reason you can’t stay awhile? Anyone waiting for you wherever it is you call home?” His hand clenched into a fist so tight that his knuckles turned white.
I shook my head. “My guess is that nobody but my boss and coworkers will even notice I’m gone.” And probably whoever had broken into my place, too. But I didn’t know Warren well enough to share that information with him.
“Then stay. You’ve already found a job,” he pointed out as he unclenched his fist and laid his hand flat on the table.
“Maybe,” I conceded. “If I can find somewhere decent that I can afford to stay.”
His lips kicked up in a pleased grin. “I can solve that problem for you. Stay with me.”
“Nice try,” I laughed. “These marks on our wrists might connect us in some way, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to fall in your bed that easily.”
His green eyes filled with desire. “Oh, trust me. I don’t need easy from you. I’m willing to work for it.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
“As much as I want you there, I’m not going to force you to stay in my bed. I have several guest rooms you can pick from,” he offered.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I just met you like five minutes ago.”
“It’s been an hour,” he retorted, as though those extra fifty-five minutes made a difference. “But if you’d prefer, you can stay with my mom.”
“Your mom?” I remembered what he’d said about magic running in families. “Is she a witch, too?”
He nodded. “She’s one of the most powerful air witches in the world.”
“Wow.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d even think she was strong enough to be the reason the fan on your car malfunctioned,” he grumbled.
“What?” I reared back in my seat. “Is that even possible?”
“Since fans move air, there are ways that magic could be used to hinder them,” he explained. “It wouldn’t require a complicated spell or using up too much power.”
“If your mom is one of the most powerful air witches in the world”—it was hard for me to believe I’d really
just said that out loud—“and messing with my fan is that simple, why did you act like she wasn’t strong enough to have caused the fan problem in my car?”
“Because she would’ve had to know you’re my consort, and that’s just not possible. Nobody knows who the Goddess has matched together until they meet and the consort marks appear.” Goosebumps followed in the wake of his fingers as he brushed them over the mark on my wrist again. “But it’s one hell of a coincidence that the fan went out on your car the same morning that she was complaining to me about not being able to use her magic to locate my consort.”
His mom had been upset about not being able to find me?
Whoa.
I’d just thought of myself as his consort. For someone who was generally distrustful of others, my walls seemed to be coming down quickly with Warren. It was almost enough to make a girl believe in the possibility of magic.
Chapter Five
Warren
“Finding your consort must be super important then?”
If Opal had been raised in the magic world, she’d know exactly how vital she was to my happiness. Even though I’d already accomplished a lot in the short time I’d been the High Priest of my coven, finding Opal and making her mine were the only accomplishments in my life that really mattered.
She hadn’t freaked out over everything I’d already shared with her, but I wasn’t sure she was prepared to handle the blunt truth about consorts. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I just figured that it must be important if it’s something you and your mom talk about.”
The Empress: A Cards of Love Story Page 2
