This Strange Witchery

by Michele Hauf

  “Well, if I give it a good think, I suspect I’ll actually be summoning a zombie.”

  “Zombies—” Mel touched a finger to his mouth to stop him from what she knew he was going to say, but Tor took her hand away and finished “—do exist.”

  “Since when did you have a change of heart?”

  “Since I had to fight the zombie dogs in your backyard. They were not revenants. Revenants are solid and don’t suddenly drop off body parts. I am now officially on the zombie bandwagon. But really? You’re going to raise your sister as a zombie? That wasn’t in the initial instructions to me. Of course, you gave me no details. So why should I be surprised?”

  “It’s what’s required for the spell. And now can you understand why I volunteered to do this instead of allowing my dad? Can you imagine if he had to raise his own daughter from the grave?”

  Tor blew out a breath. “But you’re her sister. It’s going to affect you just as much as it would your father. Can’t you have your uncle CJ do this?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve got a connection to Amaranthe that no one else has. See here.” She opened her palm and he traced the scar. “Amaranthe and I performed a blood-bond spell when we were little. If anyone is going to raise her from the dead, it has to be me. Of course, now that Uncle CJ said I have to make a sacrifice, I’m not sure what that should be.”

  “A sacrifice?”

  “It’s the reason my cloaking spells haven’t been taking hold. When a witch wants to perform dark magic, he or she makes a sacrifice to prove their commitment to the art. I remember Amaranthe ate a salamander heart when we were tweens. Poor thing was her familiar. I don’t know what my dad did, and I’m not sure I want to know. It doesn’t have to be like killing a sacrificial lamb. I have to sacrifice something important to me. And I need to do it soon so I can get the mojo I need to work the dark magic.”

  “What’s important to you?”

  At that moment Bruce levitated down the hallway, and both paused to watch him pass into the kitchen.

  “I’m not sacrificing Bruce,” Mel said. “Or Duck. Or any living being. That’s not my style. I’m not sure what would work. A lot of things are important to me. My house, my life, my light magic, my love for nature. Heck, even my love for karaoke. But I don’t think promising never to sing karaoke again would fit the bill.”

  “Probably not.” Tor stroked the back of his forefinger along her jaw. “I’ll help you. Just tell me what you need, and it’s done.”

  “You’re so good to me. I will tell you if I need help. But first, I have to figure out what’s most important to me.”

  “And fast.”

  “And fast.” She pressed a palm over his chest. Now his heartbeats were calm and reassuring. Lost in his steady brown eyes, but searching for an anchor, she said, “Tell me you’re out and I’ll understand.”

  “I’m in. And you can’t change my mind.”

  “Thank you.” She kissed him. “I owe you a lot for this.”

  “Actually, your dad and your uncle are now footing the bill. Both told me I wasn’t allowed to take money from you.”

  “Oh really? I’m not going to argue with that.”

  “So are we good?” he asked. “I mean, beyond the work situation. I know I hurt you—us—by walking away. I was...”

  “Dealing with your own stuff. I get that. And yes, we are good. But we’ll be even better if you can help me move this furniture back into place. Bruce is no help at all when it comes to heavy lifting!” she called into the kitchen.

  “Got it. You stand out of the way, and I’ll do it all. Where is the heart, by the way?”

  “I put it in the fridge.” She shrugged in answer to his lifted brow. “Wasn’t sure if spoilage would be an issue, though I doubt it. It wasn’t in cold storage at the Archives. Don’t worry. I performed another cloak and ward on it, just to be safe.”

  “The same cloak and ward that had an efficacy of about three hours?” he asked with a dimpled grin.

  “The very same. I’ll figure out my sacrifice before morning. I have to. Just think—tomorrow night this will all be over. And then Monday morning you can start your new life.”

  He stood from the chair and slipped his hands down her shoulders as their gazes locked. “A new life,” he said. “I want that. But what if I want to keep some of the old in the new?”

  “Like what old stuff would that be?”

  “Well, she’s not exactly old.”

  “She?” Mel wriggled when she realized he was talking about her. “I’d love to stay in your life. If you could manage a witch in your normal world.”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be completely free from the paranormal world I’ve grown up in. It will be a challenge to keep it apart from the normal stuff, but I think it’ll be worth it.”

  “If you think so.”

  “I...have been told I should employ a memory-loss spell.”

  “A—what for?”

  “Rook suggested it. It’ll make me forget things. If I’m going to enter the normal world, I can’t know what I know now.”

  “That seems drastic.”

  “Extreme measures. For my sanity.”

  He’d obviously considered it, and the man was usually very sure about his decisions. She shouldn’t say anything. She wouldn’t.

  “Of course,” she offered as calmly as possible. “It’s your life. You do what you have to do.”

  She kissed him again, quickly, and bounced into the kitchen to put away the grater and goggles. If she’d told him the truth, that she would be lost along with his abandonment of all things paranormal, she might lose his newly given trust.

  But really, that man could only exist in her world. His world. She knew that. Would he come to realize it? Before he decided to forget it all?

  Chapter 18

  “Did you have any furniture stacked up in the back of the house you want me to put back in place?” Tor asked Mel as she walked down the hallway.

  “I didn’t blockade my spell room.”

  “I’ve seen that side of the house from outside. Isn’t it all windows? Like a conservatory? Anything could have broken through—” Tor decided that stating the obvious wasn’t going to help matters. He was here now. He could protect Mel.

  And he wouldn’t run away from that responsibility again.

  “I know. Not very efficient at battening down the hatches. But I ran out of furniture. Come on—I’ll show you.”

  As they entered the spell room, which was a long conservatory attached to the side of the house, Tor fell into a state of wonder. With a snap of her fingers, Mel lit a few candles placed in sconces along the walls. Above them, centered over a stretch of stone table, a candelabra was lit, giving the room a soft, cozy glow. Vines grew all over the windows from the outside, so the night sky was blocked in most places, but the moon shone through, high above, full and round.

  Tomorrow night would see the moon’s apex. Showtime, Tor thought. And he was going to stand by while Mel raised the dead. That would be interesting, for sure. Out of his comfort zone? Nothing doing. But still, it was going to try his bravery.

  It would be worth it to help Mel.

  The room smelled fresh and summery. Plants in terra-cotta pots were positioned all along the tiled floor. One wall was lined with shelves and vanities that were stocked with vials, bottles, jars, candles, rocks, more plants, books and—well, everything witchy Tor could imagine.

  He smoothed a hand over a massive pink stone table that stood as high as his thigh. The top surface was about four feet square, and it had no legs; it was a solid chunk of rock. He jumped up to sit on it. “Must have taken a crane to get this piece in here.”

  “I’m not sure,” Mel said. She tapped a bit of dried flower that hung from a copper rack over the pockmarked wood table that abutted against the pink stone. Must be her ma
in spellcrafting table. “It’s rose quartz. It was here, in that exact spot, when I moved in.”

  “A witch lived here before you?”

  “I think it was a geologist. The whole house, when I did a walk-through before buying, was filled from floor to rafters with pretty stones and crystals. I suppose the owner decided that piece was too big to move. Must have cost a fortune. It feels great, doesn’t it?”

  Tor pressed his palms to the cool stone and shrugged. “It’s a rock.”

  “Oh, dear, no.” She moved to stand before him, and Tor spread his legs wider so she could step right up to him.

  Mel slid her fingers along the pink stone, and then with those same fingers, she tapped his heart. He clasped a hand over hers. “Rose quartz is a stone of the heart. It’s filled with love and compassion. Self-worth and confidence reside in this stone. And passion.”

  He wasn’t sure about all that, but he was on board with the passion bit. And the way her lashes lowered when she said that, dusting her candlelit, glitter-covered skin, was devastating to his desires. Lash magic. He was bewitched.

  Tor bent to kiss Mel. Her mouth was soft and giving, so lush. The moment felt right. Maybe? After today’s argument, he wasn’t sure. “Is this all right?”

  “Why would you ask such a thing? Of course it is.”

  “Less than an hour ago you were barricaded in your house because you thought I’d abandoned you. I’m sorry.”

  “I forgive you.”

  Croak.

  Tor startled at Bruce’s interjection. He’d not noticed the familiar had levitated so close to them and now hovered but a foot from their heads.

  “That did not sound approving,” Tor said. “Would you give me a break, Bruce? You can trust me. I like your witch. And I promise you I will protect her and never do anything to harm her.”

  The frog stared at him a moment. And Tor could only hope he’d get an approving ribbit or whatever was the amphibious offering of acceptance. Instead, Bruce turned and floated off.

  “What was that?” he asked Mel.

  “I’m not sure. But I’m inclined not to overthink it. Now kiss me and show me just how much you’re on my team.”

  “Team Mel?”

  “I like when you call me that.”

  “I can call you whatever you want me to.”

  “I like Mel because it’s what you want to call me.” She pushed up onto the stone table and landed each knee beside his thighs.

  Tor slid his hands up her back as her kiss forced him downward to lie across the smooth quartz. Her kisses were passionate and searching, and for a moment he simply lay there, allowing her to do as she wished. Her body hugged his as she snuggled against him. Her hair spilled over his face and neck, and he breathed in lemons and lavender.

  Attempting to loosen his tie, she cursed. “Your knots are thwarting my lusty desires. How did you get it like this?”

  “It’s an Eldredge knot. One of the more complicated knots, but it makes me happy to accomplish it.”

  “You are a man who likes a good challenge.”

  “Always. And I would never purposely thwart you. Promise.” He gave the tie a shuffle, which loosened it, and then he pulled it free with more than a few twists and tugs.

  “I think you practice knot magic,” she said.

  “Is there such a thing?”

  “There’s a magic for everything. Tasseomancy, aleuromancy, crystal divination, pyromancy. I’ll have to show you my lithoboly skills sometime. Freaks out Bruce.”

  “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “Some things are better left to the imagination. But it does involve rocks raining down from the sky.” She slid a hand down to his belt.

  “Your talisman against ghosts,” she affirmed.

  “Lillian Devereaux spelled it for me years ago. You know her?”

  “I don’t, but I’ve heard of her. Pretty sure that witch has been around for centuries.”

  “She’s quite the flirt.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I never kiss and tell. Hey, she did me a favor. I can’t see or sense ghosts when I’ve got this on me. And they can’t touch me. I never take it off.”

  “But you know it doesn’t repel them. Just makes it so you can’t see them.”

  “That works for me. Are we going to discuss the miraculous powers of my...talisman...” He pumped his hips against her thighs playfully. “Or are we going to make out?”

  “I vote for making out.” Mel unbuttoned his shirt and her lips landed on his bare skin, following with kisses as each button was released. “This hot, hard chest of yours. Mmm...”

  Her tongue traced his nipple, and Tor hissed at the sudden and remarkable shock of pleasure. He gripped her hair, his fingers getting lost in lush, soft curls, and pulled her up to kiss her deeply. He needed to taste her want and desire. And he wanted her to know the flavor of his.

  The intense need to become as close to her as possible had him pulling her tight against him. Their tongues danced. Sighs mingled. The tickle of her lashes against his skin felt like the best kind of magic.

  “I want to do more than kiss you,” she said.

  “Me, too,” he said on a wanting groan. “Mel, you don’t make it easy to resist you.”

  “Why resist?” She pushed up from him, her soft hair dangling onto his bared chest. She was on top and in control, and he didn’t mind that at all. “I can make you do as I say.” A waggle of her brow combined with her lash magic to completely enchant him.

  “With witchcraft? I have no doubt. But you don’t have to resort to sneaky tactics. I’m on board with whatever happens next.”

  “Good.” Her eyes twinkled. She tugged his shirt out from his pants. “Because I have plans.”

  She bowed her head and kissed a trail down from his neck to his nipples, and took her time with the sweet torture of sucking them, then licking and lashing at them.

  Tor sucked in a gasp. Her mouth on his skin did not allow for clear thought.

  Above him, the chandelier glinted with golden candle flame. The air swirled sweetly with herb and flower scents. Briefly, he wondered if the vines climbing outside the windows concealed their tête-à-tête from the neighbors’ view. The shrubbery was probably high enough.

  Mel unzipped the fly of his trousers, and her hand slipped inside to caress his hard-on. The contact worked like a torch to his desires. Tor groaned with soul-deep pleasure.

  “You know, I never use a wand,” she commented, and kissed him below the belly button. “But this one I’d like to get my hands on for a test drive.”

  “Nothing magical there,” he commented with an intake of breath as her next kiss was placed on his briefs, right there, on the swollen head of his cock. Though now that he considered it, something magical might happen if she continued her efforts. And he wouldn’t be able to contain the results, that was for sure.

  “Are you comfortable?” she asked, and then snapped the elastic band of his briefs.

  “I...was.” He winced, wondering if she intended to snap him again.

  “I mean, this rock you’re lying on.”

  “I thought it was a passion rock? Isn’t it going to make this all glowy and magical?”

  “I don’t think we’ll glow.” She tugged down his pants and boxers. “But magic will happen. I can promise you that.”

  “Yep...that’s...nice grip, witch.”

  She chuckled and ended it with a lash of her hot tongue over the crown of his cock. Tor closed his eyes. Something hot stung his chest and he winced, but he didn’t think on it too long as the wicked, wet heat of Mel’s tongue traveled the length of him, slowly, firmly and oh, so...

  Another hot sting splashed his shoulder, and now he realized what was happening. The candle wax was dripping from above. And...he almost asked Mel to stop so they could move, b
ut now she sucked him deeply and—fuck, that was good.

  He grasped a hank of her hair and didn’t push or cajole, but merely anchored himself to her as she expertly lured his body to a rigid, trembling frenzy. He was going to come. And she was still completely dressed.

  Wax fell in torturous droplets from above. And...none of it mattered as he saw vivid colors behind his closed eyelids, and the tension in his groin burst. His hips bucked on the pink stone. Mel’s hands slid up his abdomen.

  And the witch whispered, “Now that was magical.”

  * * *

  Crouched over her protector on the rose-quartz table, Mel had never felt more powerful, more in her body and so in touch with her feminine core. Her entire body tingled with the pleasure that she had just given Tor. And she wanted to feel it as viscerally and with such an abandoned thrill as he just had.

  But her knees were killing her.

  Sliding off the rock table, she tugged up Tor’s pants, and he—still breathing heavily and in a sex daze—clutched them at his waist and followed as she grabbed his free hand and led him down the hallway.

  “The big pink rock was fun,” she said as she entered the bedroom. “But now we’re going to do it the comfortable way.”

  “I’m all for that.” Tor dropped his trousers, stepped out of them and flung himself onto the bed. The thick, fluffy comforter slapped over his face and he pulled the blanket about him. “Man, this is soft! It’s like a nest in here! You girls get all the good stuff.”

  Mel leaned over and tapped his erection, which had softened a bit, but was still a mighty wand. “We most certainly do get to play with the good stuff.” She kissed his abs and moved up to his chest where—“What’s this?”

  “Wax.” He pulled her up to kiss him. “The candles were dripping on me, but I didn’t want to move because what you were doing...”

  He kissed her deeply and rolled her to her back, effectively wrapping them into a blanket burrito.

  Another drop of wax on his shoulder alerted her. “You should have told me you were in pain.”

  “It was a good pain.”