At that point, I forgot that I pushed him to tell me.
He didn’t remind me of this. Instead, he said, “Two reasons, one, because I don’t want you thinking Wilding is a traitor. He’s a lot of things and one of those is, he’s loyal to you.”
Thank the goddess for that one.
Aidan kept on. “Althea Appleton is a drunk and she’s a meddler and she’s an oracle for God’s sake. Never trust one of those.”
Great. Never trust an oracle.
So noted.
It made no sense but whatever.
Aidan continued, “And two, because you might be able to change it”
“Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap,” I chanted again, still pacing.
Aidan started toward me but I put up my hand. He stopped.
“So, you realize that it could be you… that…” I gulped, “dies?”
“I’ve known since I was a little boy and my grandfather introduced me to the Mathilda Prophesies and explained my part in them. Just as Wilding has known what his destiny was since he was young. We’ve both grown up knowing we’d either marry you or bleed for you.”
“Oh Great Goddess and all things under the moon and the stars,” I breathed.
I wanted to cry, I really did, but I was getting sick of crying.
“You’re telling me your choice is a lifetime of tantrums, drama and ‘does my butt look big in this?’ or… death… and you’re sticking around?” He made no response so I asked, “Are you nuts?”
He started to grin.
Holy shit.
What if it was him, Aidan, who was going to die?
What if it happened tomorrow?
What if it happened tonight?
I put my hand to my mouth.
“I can’t bear this,” I told him on a whisper.
His face got gentle. “Yes, you can.”
“No, I don’t think I can. What if something happens to you, soon, tonight, tomorrow? How will I, we haven’t… you and I haven’t… but Ash and I…”
I stopped.
Aidan’s body went still.
“Ash and you what?” Aidan asked.
“Well, Ash and I at least have…”
I stopped again because his grin was gone.
Oops.
Uh-oh.
“Ash and you have at least what?”
“Aidan, you have to know this is an impossible position for me to be in.”
“Ash and you have what?”
His voice was icy and he was coming toward me in that stalky way again.
“Aidan, you’re stalking me,” I told him as I backed away.
“Damn straight, Ash and you have what?”
I stood my ground and he stopped in front of me. I was a big idiot for saying anything at all. In my defense, I had just learned one of the men in my life was going to die for me and I thought that was a pretty good excuse. But since I did say something, I had no choice (obviously, because he was being stalky and looking broody) but to finish it.
So I stood on tippy-toes and whispered in his ear, as quickly as I could, about the Big O and Ash sleeping in bed with me.
It was only fair.
What were the words? He had a fifty-fifty chance to “bleed” for me.
Ack!
When I was done, Aidan rocked back on his heels.
“I see.”
“I feel like I should apologize,” I told him. “But these aren’t exactly normal courtships, you know. Neither of you have taken me to a movie or on a picnic or dinner… oh wait, you’ve taken me to dinner, um… kinda twice… but…”
Shit.
I was babbling.
Shit!
He started stalking me again.
I moved back.
“I thought you were shattered… you were gonna find another bed,” I reminded him.
“I’m thinking I might stay in here tonight.”
Oh boy.
There we were, me retreating, him advancing.
This man was either going to die for me or give me three babies.
Okay then.
Why was I running away?
I stopped and he covered the distance in two strides, swung me up like I weighed as much as a bag of sugar and tossed me on the bed.
He pulled off his shirt.
Six pack, check!
(Oo, and those nice, sinewy forearms, oh my…)
“I feel stupid in this outfit,” I shared because I was nervous and couldn’t think of anything else to say. I was staring at his abs like I was going to take a bite out of them and my whole body was shivering.
“Take it off.”
Yikes!
“No!”
“Okay, I’ll take it off.”
Man, oh man.
I fall for them, don’t I? Every bossy word out of his mouth made my nether regions quiver. I was ready for him before his knee hit the bed.
Then his knee hit the bed. Then his body hit me. Then his mouth hit mine.
He kissed me, hard, wet, deep, ohmygoddess, my insides melted.
He did this for a long time. Then his lips slid down my cheek and with his mouth on my neck, his hands trailing my body, he whispered, “You want me to stop?”
I didn’t say anything as his fingers pulled at the multitude of fabric at my waist and his tongue did amazing things to the area around my ear.
“Darling, now is the time to say if you want me to stop,” he murmured.
Oo, he called me “darling”.
I had no words.
His hand found the drawstring, conquered the fabric, his lips again found my lips… his again tongue found my tongue…
Oh me… oh my.
He broke the kiss but said against my mouth, “Last chance, Mathilda.”
“Do… not… stop,” I breathed.
I felt his smile against my mouth then his lips slid across my cheek again and, back at my ear, he chuckled and it felt like a million feathers danced from my ear over my entire body.
My nipples turned to rocks and my stomach went molten.
And then I didn’t feel anything else for a good long while except the two fingers sliding inside me.
And the thumb on me.
Ohmygoddess, ohmygoddess, ohmygoddess!
Fingers, thumbs, mouth, tongue, oh my!
I arched my hips against his hand right before I moaned his name, real slow.
Yay!
Yayayayay!
Afterward, he kissed me softly and when I opened my eyes to look at him, I saw he was watching me and he whispered, “God, you’re beautiful.”
Yay!
While I recovered, he moved, adjusting my pajamas and stripping to his boxers and he turned out the lights. He slid us both under the covers and pulled me into his arms.
“Um…” I didn’t know what to say.
Was that it?
Were we done?
“Sh, darling, I’m exhausted. Go to sleep.”
Excuse me?
“Uh, Aidan? Um… sorry but… what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”
Wha?
“You’re… good?”
“Yes. Sleep now.”
He wasn’t good.
He was even.
Fucking men.
* * * * *
Will say though, that waking up next to fabulous man who a) will die for me or b) will be my husband and c) calls me beautiful after he makes me climax, is quite lovely.
To say the least.
Ash spoons. Ash pulls you to the warmth of his body and keeps you there, all night, protecting you.
Aidan is not a cuddler. Although I fell asleep in his arms, somewhere in the night I was free to sprawl willy-nilly across my side of the bed. Though, he was not distant. He ended up on his belly, close, with one hand resting possessively on my ass, fingers curling around my hip, the sheets down around his waist and his gorgeous back on view.
Make of that what you will.
So now I sit wrapped up i
n his robe, in the window seat alternately watching him sleep and writing in my Book of Shadows.
And thinking about my future.
And about Josie, who will save the world.
And about Ash and Aidan and their lifetime of knowing they’ll either marry The Chosen One or die protecting her.
And myself, who will have to live without one of them.
Chapter Ten
The Month of August
3 August
Lots to tell, little time. It’s all becoming a blur of work, study, hunt, cast and plot.
Let’s see, where did I leave off…?
Oh yes.
I left Aidan in bed, (poor baby, so sleepy). Dressed in my shorts and cami (borrowed one of Aidan’s sweaters to go over because it had turned cold, gray and rainy… again) and headed down to the kitchens (had a tour the night before, truly fascinating, The Institute, but too much to tell).
I ended up shooing the cook (who, at a glance, was around nine hundred and eight years old and seriously needed a day off) out of the kitchen.
There were pints and pints of blueberries in the fridge for some reason so I made the entire membership of The Institute homemade blueberry pancakes with golden syrup and crisp fried, streaky bacon.
I declined to eat in the dining hall (was in clothes from day before and no makeup, so no way was I going to be on show) but instead, ate at the big, wooden table in the kitchen.
Dr. Bennett sat with me, drinking a cup of tea from a delicate china cup and saucer.
Conversation was scarce. Mostly, he watched me.
Once I’d nearly finished, he said, “Did you sleep well, my dear?”
Without thinking, I answered, “I found it tough to settle but after awhile, I slept like a baby.”
I had been concentrating on wiping the last bits of syrup with pancake on my plate when I looked up to see a whisper of a smile playing on his lips.
The lights flashed on in my brain.
I’d been had.
Under my breath, I started singing, “Matchmaker” from Fiddler on the Roof.
He took a sip of tea but still, he did it grinning.
“You know, Dr. Bennett, I think you are one sly fox,” I told him.
“Indeed?” he asked.
“Indeed,” I answered.
He nodded then to my surprise said, “And you, Miss Honeycutt, are quite a breath of fresh air.”
My mouth dropped open.
How nice!
Just then, one of the members walked (more like, hobbled) in.
“Mr. Wilding is here for Miss Honeycutt. He’s in the entrance hall.”
I jumped up. “Better go, mustn’t keep Mr. Wilding waiting.”
“I’ll escort you,” Dr. Bennett offered.
It wasn’t exactly him escorting me, I think he forgot his stick and needed to lean on someone. To all appearances, he looked like he was gallantly holding my elbow. The pressure on my arm, though, was more than gallant.
I didn’t let on, just walked slowly like I had all day.
“So, Dr. Bennett, do you know where Jeremy Bligh is?”
“I’m sorry to say, Miss Honeycutt, that we have not had a report from Professor Bligh in some time.”
Mm.
“Well, Dr. Bennett, would you tell me if you had a report from good ol’ Jeremy?” I asked.
He stopped and turned to me.
“Miss Honeycutt, you are a clever woman so I won’t bore you with my theories on the cycles of history. Suffice it to say, we have our difficult times; we have our trouble-free times. Unfortunately, fate has settled on me the duty of guiding this Institute through what will be its most complicated time in history. This is a task I do not delight in, but it is my providence to direct The Institute through these rocky waters. I can tell you, Miss Honeycutt, in a time of witches using electric wands, not to mention bombs; I would indeed inform you if I felt there were tidings you needed to know.”
I took a moment to process words like “tidings” and “providence” then I kissed his cheek.
“Big changes, eh, Dr. Bennett?” I remarked softly.
“Enormous, Miss Honeycutt,” he remarked softly right back.
We eventually made it to the entrance hall in which Ash was standing smack dab in the middle, somehow communicating that he owned the room even though he most definitely did not.
He’d slept elsewhere such was his aversion to The Institute.
“I’ll leave you here, Miss Honeycutt,” Dr. Bennett said
I figured that was a wise choice.
“Thanks for everything,” I replied.
“Our pleasure.” And he smiled so I smiled back.
Ash had turned at our approach and was watching me leave Dr. Bennett and walk toward him and he did this with his arms crossed on his chest and a not-very-happy look on his face.
I thought it was probably being at The Institute.
Then I thought it was the fact that I was wearing Aidan’s sweater.
I wasn’t going to worry about it because I knew something about him then that I didn’t know before and now I had a lot more patience with his bad attitude.
I must have looked at him all dewy-eyed because he said, “Jesus, Seymour told you, didn’t he?”
Talk about spoiling the mood.
“Told me what?”
He looked me top to bottom.
He knew.
He knew everything.
As in, everything.
How did he know?
Holy crap – what did I do in this situation?
“Don’t let it change anything, Matty,” he ordered, using my nickname which somehow made the bossy order less bossy.
“Okay,” I replied, because what else could I say?
“We ready?” Aidan asked, walking into the room, shrugging into a jacket.
“Yep,” Ash answered.
And off we went.
* * * * *
We showed the photo here and there, followed a few leads, went back to London, took another trip to The Hobgoblin (Derek, exasperated and throwing up hands: “Not again!”) then we went home.
I was busy on my mobile the whole way arranging to get the girls together.
We needed a meeting in the worst way.
I invited Lucy because I figured Lucy was vulnerable so she should know what she’d gotten herself into by being my friend.
My crazy Lucy sounded excited, saying she’d be there and “couldn’t wait.”
Love her.
* * * * *
Approximately twelve point five seconds after we arrived home (slight exaggeration), the coven, Lucy and Josie clustered in our huge kitchen, sitting around the table, on chairs dragged in, on countertops. I stood at one end, Ash and Aidan flanking me like sentries.
I gave a brief, er, debrief. We handed out copies of photos of Bligh.
Lastly, I warned the witches not to use their magic unless necessary, to keep topped up to their full powers, have their ears and eyes open, communicate frequently and keep their wands with them at all times.
The coven and Lucy left, the Honeycutts and Josie remained.
I asked for a report on the intelligence ops we were performing. Not much going on and surprisingly nothing from Mom about Douglas Addison (although she glanced at Ash after her report which I thought strange).
We assessed the protection spells and did a little planning and plotting and arranged our next meet to discuss The Gathering.
Ash disappeared after everyone was dismissed.
I walked Aidan to the Merc.
He turned to me before getting in the car and I caught his hand. “Stay,” I urged on a heartfelt whisper. “Go get some of your things and move to The Gables. You’ll be safer here.”
He laughed like what I said was amusing, cupped the side of my face and ran his thumb down my cheekbone then his hand dipped to my jaw so his thumb could glide over my bottom lip.
“Matty, you know that won’t work. Don’t worry about me. I can take
care of myself.”
Then he kissed me softly and, after I slid my arms around his waist, very, very deeply.
Oh my.
After I watched him drive away, I was walking back to The Gables when I saw a shadow move.
Holy crap.
It was Ash.
Holy crap, part deux.
He was walking purposefully toward me while speaking in a growl. “Mathilda, I’m going to warn you I’m not particularly keen on sharing my women.”
Great.
“Thanks, Ash, that helps things a lot, like I’m not already confused enough.”
Then he arrived at me and before I knew what he was about, he grabbed me, pulled me to him and kissed me, not softly, but hard, hot and yes, also deep.
Holy crap.
“I find there’s a hint of him left on you,” he murmured after he was done, “I’m going to erase it. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
I nodded, my knees were weak.
He let me go. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”
Holy crap.
I needed a drink and luckily, when I arrived in the kitchen, Mom was there.
“Martini or mojito?” she asked.
“Margarita,” I answered.
It was a tequila night.
I sat at the kitchen window staring at the sun setting across the water.
Mom sat behind me and started twirling my hair like she used to when I was a little girl.
“Do you know which one it is? Which one is going to die?” I asked the Bristol Channel quietly.
She knew exactly what I was talking about.
“Oh, baby, I wish I did, so I could guard your heart like they guard your life.”
I sighed.
She sighed too.
Then I turned to my mother. “What’s the deal with Addison, Mom? Why’d you look at Ash when –?”
“Don’t ask, Matty, it’s our secret, Sebastian’s and mine. Keeping it from you is protecting you.”
I nodded and I did this without hesitation.
In Mom we trust.
* * * * *
The next morning I knocked on Mavis’s Magic Room door.
She was crystal gazing when I walked in.
“We’ve got an unwelcome houseguest,” I told her.
“Don’t let your emotion override your intuition, diddums,” she warned.
Mathilda, SuperWitch Page 25
