9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC (36 page)

He snorted. In lust, maybe. Well, definitely in lust. But
love? No way. Nuh-uh. Wasn’t happening. Not to this
waken.

As
soon as he could kiss her—without causing her soul to depart—well then, he’d
satisfy this wild hunger. Once the hunger was appeased, the lust would go away.
End of story.

But
right now, she stood in the middle of the shop, wet as a drowned kitten, and
looking like a lost waif. His heart clenched as she gave a pitiful sniff.

That
was another thing that was totally out there. She could cry.

Witches
couldn’t cry, so why could she?

Talon
watched a single tear slide down her cheek and knew he’d lost the battle before
the war even began. “Don’t,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “Don’t cry,
La-Scheme
.
Your tears rip me apart.”

He
rubbed her back as her wet head rested against his chest. She continued to
weep. He swallowed hard. Gods. This was why witches shouldn’t be able to cry.
It brought a tough man to his knees.

When
had she managed to crawl inside his heart and make it her own?

He barely knew her, yet in the short time he’d been around
her, he’d learned she was special. She fitted in his life, and she belonged to
him.

She was sweet and good, her heart tender and easily
bruised. A softie.

He could no more harm her than he could cut off his own
arm.

Talon brushed a kiss against the top of her head.
“Kieran
,
sweetheart, don’t. I’ll fix everything for you. I promise.”

She hiccupped against his chest, and he couldn’t keep from
laughing. “Hey. You’ll cause my shirt to shrink if you keep crying all over
me.” He tilted her face up to his. “I’ll figure out a way to counter your
magic. I’ll fix it for you. I give you my
waken’s
oath.”

“How?”
Saylym turned her damp gaze upward. “I’m not about to ask you what a
waken
oath
is. I’m quite sure I don’t want to know what it entails, probably has something
to do with bat’s tongues and eye of newt.”

“Actually
it has to do with a lizard’s tongue.”

She
shuddered delicately.

Talon
laughed. “I’m kidding, sweetheart.”

She pulled free of his arms. “You can’t even get your
magic to turn off the sprinklers. I don’t believe for one second you’re a
waken.”

Talon
frowned at her. “You have to start believing I’m a
waken
,
La-Scheme
.
Trust me.”

Still,
she had a point. He
hadn’t
been able to counter her magic. Deep down,
that scared him. That was oh so wrong on so many levels. A female witch’s magic
was never, but never, stronger than a
waken’s.

Unless
she’s descended from royal blood.

Talon
released Saylym and whirled to face Vox, his mouth agape. “Impossible.”

“What’s
impossible?” Saylym inquired.

“There
are no royal-blooded witches left.”

Saylym
blinked. “Okay. You convinced me.”

According
to whom?

“It’s
a known fact. It’s history.”

And
who wrote the history?

“I
don’t know who wrote the history.”

Saylym
gently patted Talon’s cheek. “I said I believe you. I
really
believe
you.” She took a cautious step back from him, rolling her eyes. “I think you’re
losing it, Prince Talon.”

“Saylym,
wait. I’m not talking to you.”

“All right.” She turned back, glanced around the shop. “Who
are you talking to, then?”

“The
Futhar
. I’m talking to Vox.”

“Right.
I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the little guy isn’t talking back.”

Talon
froze. “You’re frightened of me?”

“At
least my objects talk back to me,” she said and retreated.

“Yeah.
So? Quit backing away. I’m not going to hurt you.” He shook his head. “You’re
not making sense.”

“I’m
not making sense?” Her voice rose with disbelief.

“You’re
driving me crazy, Saylym!”

“I
think someone beat me to it.”

“Devil’s
toenails,” he shouted. “Try to understand. I’m a witch!”

“I
thought
I
was the witch.”

“You
are a witch. I’m a witch, too. A male witch. A
waken
.
We-are-witches.”

“You’re
really starting to scare me, Talon.” Saylym covered her ears with both hands.

Oh, boy. Talon’s brows snapped together in a scowl, but
the fact was, it did little good, since she had her eyes squinted shut and was
humming at the top of her lungs. Off-key, of course. “You have to accept the
fact we are witches,” Talon yelled over her humming.

Saylym swiped at the tears sliding down her cheeks. “You’re
scaring me, and I want you to stop now. Please? Stop it!”

Talon stared at her. There was no reaching her, and all
this bungling on her part was going to get both of them into a lot of trouble.
He was fresh out of ideas, and fresh out of patience. She was leaving him with
no choice. They would bond and get the deed done. He couldn’t allow her to
choose and that was wrong.

The scary thing was she hadn’t meant to turn on the
sprinklers in the first place. She’d merely been attempting to prove to him she
wasn’t
a witch.

Where
in Samhain did she get the idea she wasn’t a witch?

And
why didn’t she know any chants?

He
needed to find out more about her. But then, she wasn’t exactly forthcoming
with information about herself. Things were just not right where this
particular witch was concerned.

Talon cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Saylym…
La-Scheme,”
he said gently. “Please stop humming.”

She
stopped and opened her eyes. “What?” she asked warily.

“You
said you lived in England? Did you grow up in the
illumrof
realm or the
Ru-Noc realm?”

Saylym
leaned back against a counter and folded her arms beneath her breasts. Shaking
her head, she wiped the tears from her face. “Don’t. Please.”

The
triple colors of her eyes swirled with frustration. “For heaven’s sake, Talon,
can we for once have a serious conversation? Forget about your fixation with
witches and
wakens
. There
is
no Ru-Noc. There
is
no world
of witches and
wakens.
We live in the real world, and I’m in serious
trouble here!”

“You have no idea how serious,” he mumbled, edging closer
to her.

Saylym watched him with a wary stare. He shrugged and
touched her hair, brushing a wet curl behind her ear. “How old are you? When
were you born? Who is your mother? Your father? Your mother must be a witch. Is
her spirit intact? Where is she?”

“Is her
spirit
intact?
I have no idea what you’re asking me.” She slapped at his hand. “You’re asking
me dumb questions when thousands of dollars worth of merchandise are being
ruined?”

“I’ll
fix it for you. I told you that.”

“Right.
And just when are you planning to do it? After everything is soaked beyond
repair?”

Talon puffed out a deep breath. “I need you to answer my
questions. There’s something not right here. There’s something wrong with you.
You aren’t normal.” He glared at her, his frustration getting the better of
him. “What am I saying? Of course you aren’t normal, you’re a half-breed. I
can’t believe I’m involved with a freakin’
Impure.
”

She flinched.

He heard her soft gasp, saw the pain reflected in her eyes.
The devastation he saw on her face punched him hard in the chest. Damn. He
hadn’t meant it like it came out.

“And when did you come to the decision you couldn’t be
involved with me? Before or after you removed my underwear and had your way
with me?”

“Saylym, I…didn’t
have
my way with you.” Talon
caught her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “You’re not listening
to me, because you don’t want to believe.”

She jerked away, ignoring his last remark. “Or maybe it
was when you caught me talking to the book that first day, or when I told you a
different book said I was its mother? Or…or when you decided I was a bit of
blonde fluff that lacked a brain—”

“I
don’t think you’re a bit of fluff. I didn’t mean you were a not normal, crazy
half-breed. I meant you’re an abnormal witch—”

“I
think I understood you, Talon. You really know how to make a woman feel
special. I’m as normal as you are. And I’m not a freakin’
Impure.
Whatever the hell that means?”

“No,
baby, you aren’t normal, and yes, you are. You’re a half-breed. Half-
illumrof
.
Half-witch. An
Impure
. Your blood is tainted.”

“Uh-huh.
Well, at least I don’t go around claiming to be something I’m not. You’re the
demented one, Mr. ‘
I’m-a-waken.
’ If I’m so damn tainted, does that mean
I’m not good enough for a prince?”

“Exactly. That’s exactly what it means. Can’t you
understand? I shouldn’t be anywhere near you.”

“Then take your princely ass and get out of my shop!”

Talon felt like kicking his ass as tears tracked down her
face. “Saylym…I can’t do that. It’s not that easy. And damn it, stop crying.
That’s just one of the things that make you abnormal. Witches cannot cry. And
yet, you do. You—”

She
held up her hand to halt his words.
“You
can’t find the main valve, so
therefore something is wrong with me? Hah!” She pushed herself away from the
counter and snapped her fingers underneath his nose. “I said,
hah!”

“I
heard what you said.” Talon locked his fingers around her arms and yanked her
back to him. “Blast it, don’t snap your fingers. It’s dangerous! You might turn
me into a damned toad or something worse.”

Saylym snorted, jerked away from him, and wiggled her
fingers beneath his nose. “Wooo-oo-oo, careful I don’t change you into the nut
you are!”

Talon
backed up a step. “I’m not kidding,” he yelled. “You don’t know your own
powers. Stop wiggling your fingers at me!”

“Go
to hell!” She whirled away.

“Hey,” he shouted. “Not so fast.” He latched onto her arm
and turned her toward him.

She looked up at him, violet sparks filling her eyes. “Let
go of me. Let go or I’ll punch you in the eye.”

He
grinned. “I don’t think so,
La-Scheme.”
Talon shook his head and drew
her closer until she was flush against his thighs.

Her
gaze widened when she felt his hardness throb against her belly. “Well,” she
said, peeved. “That’s not playing fair.”

“I never play fair.” His eyes settled on her mouth. “It’s
rather disconcerting for a
waken
to have such an immediate response to a
witch who is mad as hell at him. Everything you do or say turns me on.”

“I
do?” Saylym shook her head.

“Oh, yes. You do.” He pressed her hands against his
zipper. “See. I’m already hard as stone.”

She pulled her hands away, and tried pushing against his
chest. It was like trying to move a rock wall. She couldn’t budge him. “Look,”
she said, frowning. “I know you think you’re a witch, and I’ll admit to some
strange things happening in my house and here at the shop, but none of it
proves you’re a
waken
or I’m a witch. Truly, Talon, there’s no such
thing as witches and
wakens
, werewolves or vampires.”

“Yes, darling, there are. We all co-exist here in this
plane, just in different realms on Ru-Noc, except for vampires. The rules for
them are a little different, but we’re all magical, just different species.”

“Think
about it. This should prove to you you’re wrong. Why, if you were truly a
witch, you could change me into something dreadful.”

Talon
smiled, shaking his head as he slowly dipped his mouth closer to hers. “Uh-uh.”

She
licked her lips, before stammering, “A-a…
waken
would…be powerful. You
haven’t shown me any kind of powerful…
umph
—”

Talon put an end to her rambling by framing her face
between his hands and resting his mouth over hers. There was nothing gentle or
easy about the way he claimed her mouth or devoured it. It was the best way he
could think of to shut her up, and the spell had ended. It was safe to kiss
her. And damn, but he wanted that. He touched his tongue to hers, tangled his
around it and sucked. She tasted hot, like a rich, exotic spice. He wanted the
taste of her to remain on his tongue.

Without releasing her mouth, Talon turned her and pressed
her against a section of bare wall. All he could think was that it was never
going to be enough. No. One kiss, this one simple taste of her exotic, spicy
flavor, was never going to satisfy him. A lifetime of kissing her would never
be enough. He wanted more. He wanted forever.

And he knew without doubt, when it came to her, he was
always going to want more.

He
wanted to strip her naked, lift her bare bottom in his hands, and thrust deep.
He wanted to feel her legs wrapped around his hips as he came inside her. He ached
to feel her pulsing around him as she came—to feel the tiny quivers of
aftershocks as she settled with sated heat around his cock.

He cupped her bottom and lifted her against the heavy
ridge of his hardness, then held himself nestled there, snug between her
thighs. So close…not nearly close enough. So tight… not nearly tight enough. So
incredibly warm and intoxicating…but not enough.

And he thoroughly ravaged her mouth.

Saylym parted her lips, moaning as she locked her arms
around his neck, drawing him closer. He felt her heart pounding. Her scent
enveloped him, hot and heady. Yet, he couldn’t get close enough.

She made a sound, a frantic whimper of need. He recognized
the little mewling cries coming from the back of her throat. He hadn’t meant
for this to happen. Not this soon.