by Beth Caudill
“Stay away from her.” He made fists and had to turn away from the fiend.
Doyle chuckled. “Or you’ll do what?” Sulfur drifted on the air as he materialized in front of Vithar. “You’ve had over one hundred years to find a cure. The only reason you were admitted to this town was because of the magic I forced upon your family. And even the town’s protective spell couldn’t keep me out.”
“Go back to hell, demon.”
“Earth is a better playground.” Doyle reached into his pocket. “But I do want to ensure your final days are worthwhile.” He threw the contents of a vial.
The reddish-brown powder exploded in Vithar’s face. His nerve endings tingled as the warmth of witchcraft spread through his body. “What did you do?”
“The guardians should have minded their own business. I’ve ensured that when your precious Leyna offers herself again, you won’t allow moral principles to keep you from introducing her to carnal pleasures.”
“You really are despicable.”
Doyle’s laughter roared like thunder.
Two howls answered the challenge. Out of the forest, the smaller black-coated wolf leaped onto Doyle and bit his arm. He yowled and shook Meli off.
She snapped her jaws a few inches from his leg. From the other side, Fremont’s russet wolf form snarled.
“Deny the inevitable all you want. In two days, your souls are mine.” Doyle disappeared in a scarlet mist.
Meli rubbed against Vithar’s legs. She sneezed at the remaining specks of magic on the ground. He didn’t feel any different, but his experience with magic didn’t bode well for their future.
6
Outside Willows Haven’s limits, Doyle Desideratus waited for the dark witch. Blood seeped from the bite Melisande had given him. He’d make her pay for all the trouble she’d caused him. Had she accepted his ownership like a good brownie, none of this would have happened.
He wouldn’t have become indebted to Margaret a hundred years ago. She hid her vile desires from her coven, but those who traveled the darkest roads knew to be wary of her. He would take the price of this curse out of Melisande’s hide when she was his.
“Having a rough night?” The velvety tone of Margaret’s voice reminded him of the succubus’ in the abyss. “I can mend that for you.”
He shuddered. Even he knew not to accept that offer. “It’ll heal quickly enough, milady.” She might appear to be a naïve twenty-something redhead, but her brown eyes reminded him of cold, dark smoky quartz.
Too bad Hell didn’t want to deal with her toxic soul. Otherwise, he would have enjoyed sending a hellhound after her.
“How are our targets?”
“Vithar has lost hope. But the angel sparkles with light…she could still be a problem.”
Margaret marched up to him and shoved her chest against his. “That is why I gave you that mixture. You did use it, didn’t you?” Her voice purred like the hiss of a female praying mantis.
“Of course. He will succumb to her curiosity. Seduction is so much easier when honorable intentions are forestalled.”
She laughed and rubbed against him like a cat. “Or when your soul is blackened.”
He gripped her hands and pushed her back. “Black souls cannot feed me and are therefore not worth the effort. Our deal does not involve the bed.” Falling deeper into her clutches was not his plan.
She licked her luscious red lips. “Very well. What of my dear friend Daphne?”
How anyone missed the miasma of evil around Margaret, much less expected her to be a true friend, was beyond his comprehension. “She haunts that B&B of hers and avoids the deputy as much as she can.”
“Good, good. Did you bring me what I asked for?”
He pulled out a baggy full of hair from his pocket. “She visited the hairdresser last week. You should have more than enough material for your scheme.” Handing the bag over, he couldn’t resist satisfying his curiosity. “Why the single-minded focus on Daphne?”
“Her family, along with the other protectors, banned my family from entering Willows Haven over two hundred years ago. My ancestors became pawns for other, stronger practitioners, and it took too many years for them to break free. I’m all that remains.”
The intensity of her gaze made him squirm. “Revenge is most precious when you add a personal touch.”
“As you say.” She regally tilted her head toward him. “Execute the next phase. I look forward to collecting my prizes.”
A chill wrapped around his heart. He had to ensure love did not blossom in these final days.
The only woman he wanted was Melisandre. No one said “no” to an incubus. His power should have overridden her love. Except she’d married a nobody, into a family without magic. A disgrace for one of her magical background.
The twin brothers would go to Margaret. He had no desire to know what she would do to them. But he’d spent the past one hundred years planning the torment of his woman. She could have been his pet. His most cherished possession.
Instead, she would suffer, which held its own delicious appeal.
Dissolving into mist, he translocated to the park side of Gracelynne Shroud Lake across from Daphne’s home. The last sentry tree stood alone in the moonlight. Its destruction would leave the three anchor trees vulnerable. Eventually, it’d weaken the shield that kept Margaret out.
Doyle opened his heart and infused himself with the heat of hell. A ball of red-hot flame formed in his palm. When the fire consumed him, he aimed all that power at the tree.
The explosion knocked him back. Sparks burst in the air, along the wispy limbs that sung wildly despite the lack of wind. Orange, red, and black flames arched above the lake, trying to bridge the connection that existed between the plants.
A green-and-golden-yellow glow surrounded the three willows across the lake. Loud sizzles and pops echoed in the heavy night air. The dying screams of the tree drowned out the normal night sounds.
Hidden in the forest’s shadows, he watched as people congregated. Gleeful triumph produced a smile on his face. He could almost taste the fear and doubt on the wind. The population’s faith in its protectors would erode, further damaging the refuge’s enchantments.
His long wait for conquest was almost over. All he had to do was watch and be patient. The Woodwards’s own desires would seal their fates.
7
Leyna approached the covered porch of Vithar’s home. It was the only place left for her to check to discover why he was hiding from her. It was shortly after six o’clock at night, and her patience was at an end. She rang the bell.
Shadows moved inside the house. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Clouds covered the late-day sun, and trees seemed to loom all around her.
Something out there watched her.
The door opened, and Vithar stared at her. He appeared rumpled as if his clothes had been thrown on quickly.
“How did you find me?”
It hurt that he’d purposefully stayed away to avoid her. “Daphne gave me directions. You can’t escape that easily.” She pushed inside. “Are you trying to protect yourself or me?”
She walked down the hall, past the dining room and a closed door, into the living room. He’d have to talk to her if she was inside his house. Timbers created a ceiling, while dark wood accents carried the rustic theme throughout the house. It fit him—straightforward yet companionable.
She paced the length of the room, unable to settle the energy vibrating within her. Her desire to see him combined with her innate need to ease his troubles drove her to seek him out. She had to figure out how to help him, to bring happiness to his family.
He stood opposite her. “Leyna, why did you come here?”
The hard edge in his voice and the rigidity of his shoulders conveyed more than dissatisfaction with her arrival. Tiny beads of sweat gathered across his forehead. Something had changed since their last meeting.
She radiated power into the air. The bits of magic meant to ins
pire hope and self-assurance would make their way to him. To offset the spells against him. “To support you. Whatever you’re fighting against, I can help.”
He took a deep breath. “You’re in danger. You need to leave town.”
She crossed the room and laid a hand on his shirt. “I can take care of myself.”
“Not from the demon who started this mess.” He grasped her hand. “And especially not from me.” He squeezed her hand hard enough to hurt. “The demon came back and bewitched me. I won’t be able to resist you.”
Her heart fluttered. She had to make a choice. Walk away or give herself completely. She leaned her head against him. Peace settled around her. She hadn’t forgotten her failures, but they didn’t seem as important.
This was her place. “I’m where I need to be.”
He dropped her hand. “I don’t want to be a job for you.”
She lifted onto her toes and then pressed her lips to his. He froze and then groaned. His arms wrapped around her, and she was lost in the rush of excitement.
He broke the kiss and stared into her eyes. “I can’t let you go. Even if I wanted to.”
“I have no reservations tying myself to you. I want this.” She placed a hand against his cheek. “I want you.”
He grasped her hand and then tugged her up the stairs. His aura pulsed bright red, full of passion, yet at times it became muddied as if something else tried to exert control. He focused his dark brown eyes on her, and all her doubts fled.
They entered a small hallway, which on the left led to a bathroom and closet. On the right, they walked into a huge room. A large king-size bed took up the back corner, but what held her attention was the bench seats below the windows that looked out onto the backyard forest. His possessions didn’t fill half the room.
He twirled her around, clutching her to him. His head lowered, and then his lips were against hers. Her awareness splintered in his heated embrace. His hands roamed over her curves, and her breasts tightened, stretched against the fabric of her bra.
Desire darkened his eyes, a fierce concentration.
He lifted her shirt over her head, and she worked the three buttons on his polo shirt so he could strip it off. She ran her fingers over his muscled definition, his skin silky beneath her fingers.
He undid the clasp on her bra, and the air-conditioned room cooled her flesh. He turned her toward the bed. His hands cupped her breasts, and her head rested against his shoulder.
It should have felt strange, yet she felt empowered.
She nuzzled his neck, drawing in his masculine scent. Full of pine, fresh air, and an undertone of cloves. She licked his skin, feeling a mischievous desire to play. His groan brought a smile to her face.
He divested her of her clothes. Then stripped himself. His hungry gaze focused on her as if she appeased all his fantasies. A treat she’d never forget. She moved closer eliminating the distance between them.
His hand traveled across her skin, stirring unruly thoughts. He reached between her legs, and lazily drew his finger between her folds. She couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her hand around his semi-hard shaft.
She wanted to explore. To feel his silky skin. To lose herself in the chaos of emotions she’d long since forgotten. Filled with a craving she didn’t want to deny, she couldn’t help but push against him.
Wanting more.
He rolled on top of her. His legs were between hers, but his arms kept him above her. Not quite touching. His usually dark brown eyes were glowing with an intense desire. “Are you sure? There will be no going back for us.”
She pulled him close. “I appreciate the thought, but if you leave this bed, I’m going to have to tell the girls at the diner that you don’t need any more pie.”
He chuckled. “I have a much better use for it. Or at least, the whipped cream.” He squeezed her left breast and then sucked her hardened nipple into his mouth.
She moaned as ecstasy raced through her veins. Almost like freefalling through the sky.
He claimed her lips in a harsh kiss. He reached between them and rubbed the head of his cock against her. “Ready?”
She nodded. Tried to move to get him where she ached.
He slowly entered her. He stretched her, filled her as they became connected. Him to her and her to him. Fully seated, he clasped their hands together above her head. “Time to take a ride that emulates the winds.”
“Prove it.”
He moved. Driving her up further than the highest clouds. She gasped for breath, unable to stop the swell of emotions that swamped her. Their bodies generated so much heat. She had to grasp onto his shoulders. His frenzied movements pushed her to a destination she couldn’t comprehend.
She peaked and then arched as the pain of losing her wings ripped through her. Only to be suppressed under the euphoria that rolled over her. Too many sensations.
Vithar panted above her for a moment, and then he lifted himself from her. He walked across the room—she assumed to the bathroom.
She curled under the covers and let the darkness swallow her.
Her eyelashes fluttered open. Night still held sway in the darkened room. But there was a hint of light that brightened the shadows. She rolled over to an empty bed, except for a few white, downy feathers.
The last remnant of her wings.
She would never fly again. She was sad, but not heartbroken. The empty space beside her was the cause of that. She wiped away a tear but resolved to find her missing lover.
Slipping on her clothes, she rushed downstairs. “Vithar?”
A hollow sound echoed throughout the rustic home. Movement outside drew her gaze. Two wolves walked out of the dawn mist near the tree line. She ran to the windows, but her view was blocked by the screened-in porch.
Did she want to challenge the wolves? Without wings, she was without power, without a way to escape.
Walking through the porch doors to the outside was easy. But walking down the stairs took more effort. She felt the tension in the air.
Something was going to happen very shortly.
More determined, she crept down the stairs. From the corner of her eye, Vithar paced. She glanced around the corner and saw the two wolves sitting at the edge of the concrete patio.
“Don’t look at me that way. Eating me won’t solve our problems.”
“Grr. Chuff.”
“Stay close by, Melisande. He should at least be able to have your presence until sundown.”
She slipped around the corner, confused why Vithar had his hands wrapped around the smaller wolf. Then he shuffled over to the other animal and stared into the wolf’s eyes.
Everyone knew that was a challenge to a wolf, yet as the inside grandfather clock bonged the hour—which she shouldn’t be able to hear—the air shimmered between the two.
Slowly, fur receded, and pale skin stretched as the form grew. Vithar shrank as white-and-brown feathers covered his body. His form got smaller and smaller until a good-sized owl stood where he’d been. Fremont kneeled next to the wolf, his hand on her head.
With a hooty cry, the bird took off and disappeared into the trees.
All along Vithar had been watching over her. Protecting her. A weight she hadn’t known existed lifted from her heart. A joyful rush of energy filled her limbs, almost like when her powers existed.
Her foot caught on the concrete patio, made a noise that the remaining wolf directed Fremont toward.
“Spying? Not really the noblest of activities.”
She stepped before them. “Says the reporter who hunts down stories for a living.”
Despite the threat in front of her, she couldn’t help but search the trees for an owl with eyes she knew intimately.
“So why have you been out in the woods so early this morning?”
“I wasn’t, exactly. I was sleeping until I realized your brother was gone.”
The wolf and Fremont froze in place.
“You slept with him?” His incredulous tone irke
d her. “You had sex…with my brother?”
Why was it so important? “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s done it before. Why does it matter?”
“Because he hasn’t since the curse was cast. He refused to embroil anyone in our problems.” Fremont glanced at the wolf. “Our parents taught us to respect a woman, not just use them for pleasure. He’d only have sex if he loved you.”
“That’s good to know since I love him.”
“Then why hasn’t the curse been broken?”
“Because love between an angel and Vithar isn’t enough to break this curse.” An older woman walked out of the woods to the left.
Fremont stood, putting himself between the woman and the wolf. “What do you mean, Annabel?”
“Your curse was cast by a demon using witch magic. That makes things a bit more complicated. Yes, love is a major part, but not all.” Annabel turned to face Leyna. “The demon must be rejected in person. Confronted by the whole family. But you, especially, my dear, will have to overcome his influence. Your powers no longer protect you.”
“But no one in love can be controlled by an incubus.”
Annabel’s laugh turned into a fit of coughs. “True love cannot be swayed. But do you love Vithar truly? You have known him but a few days. How much do you really trust him? Do you have faith that he will be there for you, no matter what? That is what this demon will be testing.”
Fremont frowned. “So, what, we go hunt him down?”
“No. He will come here moments before the curse culminates at six o’clock tonight.” She smiled. “Until then, enjoy what time you can with your wife.” Annabel clutched Leyna’s arm. “We have something else to talk about.”
Leyna led the older woman to the tree line, away from the couple. They moved slowly, as Annabel seemed frailer the longer that she was outside.
“Have you considered the future? What will you do now?”
