Blood of the White Witch (14 page)

“That’s our answer then,” he replied. “Both
of us mentioned going back to Sedona. I think that’s where we
should be.”

“Are you sure?’ I asked him, knowing he was
giving up a lot.

“I’m positive,” he replied, pulling me down
so he could kiss me.

I enjoyed that for a moment before I pulled
away with a sigh. “I guess we should break the news to Douglas and
Fiona tomorrow then. They’re going to be really disappointed,” I
said sadly.

“It’ll be fine. They have a lot of money,
and so do we. That’s what vacations are for. We’ll come to visit
and have them to our place as well.” He shrugged, dismissing the
subject quite easily, I thought.

He hopped up off the bed then and walked
towards the fireplace. I felt my heart sink when I realized there
was another freshly chilled bottle of champagne on the coffee
table. I breathed a little sigh of relief when he walked right by
it, without even noticing it, to enter the closet.

“What are you doing?” I called to him.

“Just taking my shoes off,” he called out,
before reappearing in the doorway. “Thanks for letting me drag you
out on that walk earlier.” He smiled.

“I hope it helped,” I replied, watching
him.

“It really did,” he said. “I think I just
needed to clear my head.” He laughed then. “We need to get back to
Arizona. I miss riding my motorcycle. A good ride always helped me
straighten out the kinks.”

I smiled, remembering the first time I had
ever seen him on his motorcycle, thinking he was the most
devastatingly handsome thing I had ever seen. Never in a million
years would I have guessed that I would have ended up married to
him, and definitely not at this age.

Lucky me, I thought.

“I’m all excited to go home now,” he
continued smiling. “When do you want to leave?”

I shrugged.

“Whenever you’re ready, I guess,” I
said.

“How about the day after tomorrow?” he
suggested. “That’ll give me enough time to call the airport and
give us one more day to spend with my grandparents before we have
to leave.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I replied, catching his
enthusiasm.

He surprised me when he came over then,
picked me up off the bed and twirled me around in a circle.

“We’re going home!” he said with a grin.
“Home. I really like the sound of that.”

He leaned in to kiss me then, but stopped
suddenly, getting a strange look on his face.

“What is it?” I asked while he let me gently
slide down the full length of his body back to my feet.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking at me.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked him,
watching the turmoil that moved over his face.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. He quickly
turned and headed for the bathroom. “I think I’m going to be
sick.”

He started running then.

I stood there stunned for a moment, until I
heard him begin to heave. I ran after him and found him kneeling at
the edge of the toilet.

He was vomiting hard, unable to stop.

I knelt next to him, wrapping my arms around
his waist not knowing what to do. I just held him while it went on
and on, until I began to feel a little sick myself. He wasn’t even
throwing anything up now; he was just racked with uncontrollable
dry heaves.

I felt him struggle for control, and finally
things slowed down. He sat back from the toilet with his eyes
closed as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What caused all that?” I asked,
concerned.

“I have no idea,” he replied, turning to
look at me.

I jumped up then and backed away from him,
placing my hand over my mouth.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Look in the mirror,” I replied.

He stood and turned to look into the glass
at the red streaks that were filling his eyes.

I looked down at his arms and reached over
to lift one of them.

“Look!” I said, and I pointed at the
telltale gray streaks that were beginning there.

He followed my gaze, eyes widening in
horror.

“But how?” He stepped away from me, shaking
his head in denial. “The only way for this to happen is if I’m
drinking blood.”

The horrible truth suddenly clicked into
place for me.

“You have been,” I said.

I ran out of the room, grabbed up the
champagne bottle out of the bucket and ran back into the bathroom
throwing it into the giant bathtub. It smashed into a million
pieces, spraying everywhere.

“What the …,” he trailed off, looking at
me as if he were wondering if I had lost my mind.

“They’re poisoning you!” I screamed at him,
trying to make him understand what was plainly obvious to me.

“No!” he said, reaching over to grab the
sink to steady himself. “It can’t be.” He shook his head at me.

“Don’t you get it?” I yelled at him. “Your
attitude changes! Always wanting to pick a fight! The headaches!
The sex! Everything! It all makes sense!”

“No,” he said again, his face blanching to a
pale white.

“They aren’t who they say they are,” I said,
suddenly paranoid, and I looked around. “We’ve walked right into
the lion’s den!”

The full realization hit him then as he sank
to his knees on the floor, grabbing his hair with his hands, and he
started rocking back and forth.

“I’m sorry, Portia. I’m so sorry. I didn’t
see it. I allowed myself to be fooled by these stupid dreams of
mine.” He looked over at me with tear-rimmed eyes, and I realized
how deeply he was feeling this loss.

I wrapped my arms around him trying to
comfort him.

“It’s not your fault, Vance,” I said. “I was
completely snowed by them, too. We do need to figure out how we’re
going to get out of here, though. We’re sitting ducks.”

He nodded his head, then looked up at me
with his red-streaked eyes, and my heart felt like it was going to
bleed for him.

I reached out to touch his temples, letting
my healing magic flow through him, removing the gray veins and the
colored eyes.

“Thanks,” he said as he looked tenderly at
me.

I kissed his forehead.

“Brush your teeth,” I told him, trying to
take charge of the situation. “I’m going to start packing our
things.”

“No,” he said reaching out to stop me.
“Leave them. We can’t haul them with us if we’re on foot, and it’ll
alert them to the fact that we know something is going on if we try
to leave with luggage.”

“You’re right.” I watched him splash several
handfuls of cold water over his face.

I just sat there in a stupor, staring at him
while he brushed his teeth, wondering what to do now.

He stepped over to me when he was done.

“Ready to get out of this place?” He rubbed
both of my arms.

“Yes,” I said. He grabbed my hand, leading
me out of the bathroom and over to the closet.

We quickly changed into the warmest clothing
we had with us, donning coats, hats, gloves, and scarves.

When we were both finished, he grabbed me to
him and kissed me hard. He wound his arms tightly around my body,
pulling me as close as he could through our layered clothing.

The kiss was one of desperation and longing,
with pure passion and sorrow all wrapped into one. He kissed me as
if he might never have the opportunity in his life to do it again,
and it scared me because it was almost like he was saying goodbye
to me.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck,
not willing to break this moment while I opened my mouth to his. I
found myself suddenly pinned by his body up against the wall as he
ravaged my mouth over and over again with a ferociousness I had
never felt from him before.

With ragged breaths he finally tore himself
away from me.

“No matter what happens from this point on,
I need you to remember that I love you,” he said, and I could see
the hurt in his eyes.

“I love you, too,” I said, placing my gloved
hand on his face. “I’m sorry … about everything.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he replied
determinedly, taking my hand in his and leading me toward the
door.

He slowly opened it, glancing down the
hallway and making sure it was empty before we stepped out.

“If anyone sees us or asks, we’re just going
for another walk,” he whispered.

I nodded.

We hurried down the hall to the large marble
staircase and tiptoed down as quietly as possible. We crossed the
foyer and made our way into the vestibule, reaching for the
doorknob.

“Going somewhere?” Douglas’s voice spoke in
the darkness, coming from behind us.

We turned to look at him, knowing it was too
late. We hadn’t made it.

Douglas was standing there, frowning at us
in his full demon glory.

Vance quickly raised his arm just as a ball
of flame began to form. It danced in the center of his palm.
Throwing it out at Douglas, he yelled, “Run, Portia!”

Douglas effectively deflected the fireball,
smashing it into the wall, and charged toward us.

Vance stepped protectively in front of me,
pushing me behind him as he did so, and I stumbled slightly,
falling against the wall and then to the floor. He lifted his hand
to attack again.

Douglas reached out and grabbed him by the
wrist, lifting Vance’s hand further away from his body.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said
flatly, punctuating his words with a piercing stare that promised
instant repercussions.

“Yeah? Well, I’m not you,” Vance replied
hotly, defiantly letting the fireball go anyway.

Douglas had to jerk his head away to avoid
being hit by it. The ball of flame soared across the room and
crashed into the table at the foot of the stairs, shattering it
into a million pieces.

I lifted my hand from the floor and shot
several ice shards at Douglas. Using the hand he wasn’t restraining
Vance with, he quickly directed them back toward me. I lifted my
hand just in time to wave them off to the side of me, and they
slammed hard into the wall, sticking out like spikes.

Vance tackled Douglas with a roar, and the
two of them went sprawling across the marble floor.

Colin came running into the room, followed
by Fiona, both looking around wildly for the source of the
noise.

“Get him!” Fiona commanded Colin when she
saw the two men struggling together.

I lifted my hand to fire at Colin,
determined to protect Vance, but suddenly found myself slammed up
against the wall and held there by a force field of some sort. I
glanced in surprise toward Fiona who had her hand outstretched
toward me.

Colin grabbed Vance by his arms, hauling him
up from behind with a strength that belied his thin frame. Vance
jerked his arm free and turned around to punch Colin square in the
face, knocking him backward, before turning to fire toward Douglas
once more, who had just scrambled to his feet.

Douglas dodged the fireball by lowering his
head and jumping toward Vance, knocking him firmly into Colin, who
grabbed both of his arms up behind him again.

Vance continued to struggle against Colin.
Douglas walked up to him and backhanded him across the face.

Vance’s face reddened, and he yanked an arm
free once more, lifting his hand to fire again, but Douglas quickly
reached out and grabbed it, lifting it high into the air.

That was when Vance noticed me pinned
against the wall, and he stopped his struggles instantly.

“Release him,” Douglas said to Colin, and he
did so, though Douglas kept his firm grip on Vance’s arm.

“What is going on?” Fiona screamed. Colin
quickly moved to douse the small flames that were devouring the
wooden splinters on the floor.

“Our grandson was trying to leave us,”
Douglas said while he continued to hold Vance’s arm into the
air.

“Is that true?” Fiona said, as she walked
toward us with a look of disbelief on her face, and I suddenly felt
the force field around me release.

Vance nodded his head and yanked his arm
roughly out of Douglas’s grasp.

“But why?” she asked stepping closer,
reaching out to place a hand on the side of his face.

Vance jerked his head away from her before
she could touch him.

“Because I didn’t feel too keen on staying
here so you could continue to poison me,” he replied while he
glared at her.

“Is that what you think?” she asked in
complete innocence. “That we were poisoning you?”

Vance nodded.

“That was the general impression I had when
I started vomiting, my eyes turned red, and black started to creep
up my veins. Of course, all this happening after spending another
evening enjoying your fine champagne,” he accused her, his eyes
staring at her, daring her to refute it.

“We would never poison you,” she said,
shaking her head in denial. “We were giving you a gift, something
which would allow you to see your true heritage.”

Vance took a menacing step closer to her,
and Douglas put a hand out on his chest to restrain him.

“Let me make this clear for you,” Vance
said, leaning over her, speaking through clenched teeth. “I have no
desire whatsoever to become a demon or anything like it. I don’t
care what you say or what you do, it will never happen.”

A sad look passed through her eyes then, and
she sighed.

“As you wish,” she said, stepping away from
him and turning to the butler. “Colin, take them to the
dungeon.”

Colin stepped forward, and immediately Vance
went back into fighter mode, his arm shooting into the air, the
fire hot in his palm as he readied for another attack.

This time, however, Douglas was ready for
him. I saw him reach deftly into his pocket and produce a syringe
which he jabbed hard into Vance’s neck.

Vance only had time to register a look of
shock before he slumped over into Colin’s arms, the fireball
dropping harmlessly to the floor and dissipating.