Charmed & Ready (11 page)

This is one of the main reasons high witches like me don't do well with boyfriends. The powerful ones, and I'm one of them, usually work as metaphysical bodyguards or hunters. Both jobs are equally dangerous. The bodyguards protect world leaders and other dignitaries; the hunters go after the evil in the world and eradicate it. I do a little of both, which means double the fun.

"I don't know what to say to make you feel better, Sam. I'm not going to quit my job. It's what I am. I thought you could handle that. I want you to handle that. I need you in my life." A tear fell down my cheek. I didn't even know I was about to cry. Just knew I couldn't live without this man. Well, I'd live, but I didn't want to.

He sighed. "I think I need a little time." Holding up a hand, he stopped my rebuttal. "Not like that, I mean to get used to this. I want us to be together too. And I promise to try and not be jealous, but that's going to take some work."

"I have an idea. How about if I try to stay sober on assignments and not get killed? And you worship and adore me at all times."

He laughed hard at that. The tension in the room melted away. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me across to his lap and kissed me. Not in a gentle way, but in an I'm-never-going-to-let-you-go way. I relaxed in his arms and let my body meld into his. He felt so strong and hard. And he tasted like steak and tea. And Sam.

My hands roamed across his shoulders and down his chest. I wanted to undo the buttons on his shirt, but he pushed my hands away.

"None of that," he whispered against my lips.

I pulled away and gave him my evil stare. "And why the hell not? It's been weeks. Hello? What about the worshipping me thing?"

He smiled. "Bron, I talked to Garnout this morning. No sex, no magic, nothing but rest and relaxation for at least another week."

"No," I whined. "It's not fair." I stomped my foot on the floor.

He picked me up and put me back in my chair.

"Now, be a good girl and eat all of your lunch." He pointed at my plate.

"Whatever!" I said in my best Valley Girl interpretation.

He had to go back to work, but not before kissing me thoroughly one more time. And he's coming back tonight. Even said he'd make dinner.

Now if I can just convince him that dessert won't kill me. Hmmmmm.

Tuesday, 11 P.M.

Sweet, Texas

Witches with dirty thoughts: 1

Dead guys: 1 (But technically I didn't kill him)

Had an interesting phone call from London this afternoon. Callie said they were at the house in the city and she noticed some lurkies.

"The blokes stay about a block away. Long cloaks, weird eyes. This morning, I saw one of them walk past the house. And well," she laughed, "I killed him."

"What?" I choked on my bottled water. I'd been working out in the conservatory repotting some herbs that had outgrown their containers. It's amazing what moisture can do for a garden. When I'd come home from New York, so many of my plants were near death. Caleb and Kira had tried to do their best, but they don't have my witchy talent with the green things.

"Well, I used my powers to stop him. I tried to question him. He acted like he didn't know what I was doing but he did. The fear rolled off him." She took a deep breath.

Most witches are empaths, and can feel emotions. Few of us read minds the way I do, though. In fact, I'm the only one I know who does it.

"He passed out, or I thought he did. The autopsy said it was a heart attack. But I swear I didn't do anything but hold him." Callie's beautiful but kind of scary. No telling what she said to cause that guy cardiac arrest.

"I believe you. Did you call the spook squad?"

"Yes. There isn't any trouble, thanks to the prime minister and Zane. They told them about the attack in New York and of course they knew about your demon outside the pub. And they didn't find any other magic on him. He wasn't a warlock, he just wore these strange contacts."

I sat down on the kitchen stool by the island. "Did you happen to get a piece of clothing? Anything?"

"Yes. I threw it in the house before the spook squad got here. Why?"

I knew I liked her.

"We can use that material to trace where the magic is coming from and possibly track down the rest of that gang. He might not have been a warlock, but the people he hung out with definitely were." I took out a pen and paper from the drawer and wrote down a spell.

"Get the cloak and take it to your room. Oh, and grab some salt on the way."

"I'm not an idiot, Bronwyn." She snorted.

I didn't mean to insult her. It's very seldom I work with a witch who has the kind of power I do. There are only about seven of us right now, though that number is expected to triple in the next ten years.

Every few years, there's an influx of evil and our witch population grows out of need. It all happens sort of magically.

"Sorry, Callie. I'm so used to working with nonmagical folk. You know how it is."

She ignored the apology. People think I'm abrupt and cold at times, but she's tons worse.

A door creaked over the phone. "Okay, I'm in my room. I can't get into people's heads like you do, so how are we going to do this?" I could hear her shuffling around getting prepared.

"If you're up to it, I can use you as a conduit. You'll hold the cloth and see everything I do." I made some more notes.

"Wait, no, we can't do this," she interrupted. "Garnout said you shouldn't do magic for several weeks. It could kill you."

Damn, I'd actually forgotten. I only had four more days until the end of the week. And this wasn't so much magic, just using my ability to see into minds. I sometimes did it in my sleep by accident, so I figured it couldn't use that much power.

"I'm a lot better, really. And my magic moratorium is up in a few days, so let's do this."

I heard her shake the salt around the cloth. That would keep any black magic from spreading to Callie or me.

"Okay, but if you die in the middle of this I'm going to get really pissed off. And I'm telling Garnout it was your fault. Anything happens to you, I have a feeling my head wouldn't be long on my body." She was serious.

Garnout is always a bit overprotective of me, I don't know why. He likes me, I guess. Or maybe it's because I've saved some of his family members from terrible situations in the past. But I, really don't need to know the reason: I'm just grateful he's my friend.

"Don't worry, Callie, I swear I'm stronger. And I'll be using your magic, not my own. Well, a little of mine. You'll see."

I told her the spell, and she chanted it three times while holding the cloth.

I closed my eyes and focused on her. I found her sitting in the room next to where I had stayed at Zane's. This one had yellow and blue polka dot paper. All of the furniture was white with yellow and blue accents.

Her hand clutched the cloak tight and I could feel her concentrating.

"I'm in your head, Cal." I said it softly but she still jumped.

"Cripes, that's fucking weird." Her voice was low and coarse.

"I know, I promise to be gentle. You'll feel a tingle in your hand. That's me, so don't freak and don't let go."

"Okay."

Taking a deep breath I focused her energy and mine on the material. Then I saw it. The back of a pub. A picture of a dog with a horse and rider. One of those hunting pictures the English are so fond of, and three men at a table. One of them argued with a man across the table.

"I don't know your fuckin' plan, but one of me mates just died. I say we kill the plonkers. All of 'em." The man was bald with a tattoo of an upside down cross on his forehead. People like that always make me think they should be wearing a sign advertising, Asshole Here, Kick My Ass Please.

"Me too," Callie whispered.

I'd forgotten that for the moment, reading minds went both ways. She could see into mine as easily as I did hers.

That meant I needed to keep mine on business.

I turned to see to whom he was talking, but a hood blocked the stranger's profile. Damn. Good news is, I could feel the location. Another man stood beside them. He too, was bald. Probably Nazi wannabes. But they had obviously been mixing with some dark magic warlocks.

"I agree." I heard Callie's voice in my head. She whispered, as if the men could hear us.

"Do you have the location?" I watched the men while I waited for her answer.

The other man spoke. "You'll kill no one until it's time. Your friend made a mistake. He didn't follow the plan, and that's why he's dead."

"Yeah, but you said your magic protected us. Made us invincible."

The man in the hood shook his head. "No, I told you that if you followed the plan, no one would die." He held up a long, withered hand. Reminded me of those creepy Halloween hands you buy at the costume shop—the ones with the fake blood dripping down. He was older than the others and his voice was rough as a gravel driveway.

"You'll do as I say. No more of this foolishness." He made a fist and hit the table.

Tattoo-guy looked defiant, and then bowed his head. "Yes, Master."

"Bronwyn," Callie interrupted. "I'm on it. Now out of my head, so I can go get the bastards."

I laughed. "Be careful, and call the spook squad. You've got a mix of warlock and stupid humans, never a good combination. You should have backup," I warned.

She snorted again. "You ever take backup?"

Had me there. "Fine, but be careful."

"Got it. And thanks. I've been itching to kill since I landed in this rainy hell."

It didn't rain much in Sydney, so London wasn't her favorite place.

Callie's special talent is throwing a green slime that knocks out bad guys. One whiff and he or she is out cold.

"Blessings," I said as I pulled back.

I opened my eyes to find Sam standing in front of me.

He took the phone from my hand and hung up.

I don't know why I held it. Callie and I had been speaking telepathically for the last few minutes.

His right eyebrow twitched, and I knew I was in for it.

"What the hell were you doing on the phone there? You were using magic, weren't you? I can't believe this. Do you have a death wish? Four days. You can't wait four days to use magic again?"

Man, he really loves me. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from smiling because I knew he wasn't in the mood for that kind of thing.

Stomping around the kitchen, he unloaded the two bags of groceries he brought in, slamming the fridge and cabinet doors.

Casper, who had finally come home to eat, ran out the pet door into the conservatory. She doesn't like yelling of any kind, unless she's the one mewling.

I know it's cruel, but the misters in the garden came on just at that moment. I took great joy in listening to her screech as she ran for the backyard. Serves her right for deserting me so much.

Sam sliced tomatoes, making loud chopping sounds as he did. My man was making me dinner even though he was thoroughly pissed. How sweet.

"I wasn't using my magic, Sam. I used Callie's." I stood, a little weak, but not bad. I had to build stamina. I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, while he washed spinach leaves in the sink.

I breathed deeply and took in his scent. "She's going after the guys who sent the demon after me. All I did was help her locate them. A minimal amount of effort on my part."

He put the leaves on the counter and dried his hands on the towel. Turning, he put his hands on my shoulders as if to shake me.

Instead he kissed me. His energy soared through my body. I pressed into him, eager for more.

His eyes flashed open and he pulled me away from him. "Now
that
we are going to wait on until at least Friday." He smiled, taking the harshness from his words.

I slapped his chest playfully. "Oh, get over it. It's just sex, it's not like it's going to kill me."

"The way we do it, it could." He laughed, but his eyes were still serious. "You need to take it easy a couple of days, and you'll be surprised how much better you'll feel by Friday. But you can't use magic or have any of my incredible talents until the end of the week."

"Argh! This sucks." I knew he was right. Just the little bit of magic I did to help Callie had totally drained me, but I wasn't about to tell him.

"Go sit down. You're pale again, and I don't like it." He pushed me toward the table.

So much for keeping secrets.

He rattled on. "As much as Ms. Johnnie and Ms. Helen want to fatten you up, I think it wouldn't hurt to get some salad and maybe grilled chicken into you tonight. A healthy meal for once, and no more pie."

"That's just cruel. What do you mean no more pie? I'm skinnier than I've ever been. If I want pie I'm going to eat pie."

He chuckled. And then took a gold box out of one of the sacks.

"Are those Godiva truffles?" I sighed.

"Yes, but evidently I need to throw them in the trash because all you want is pie." He had the nerve to open the cabinet under the sink where I kept the trash.

"If you want to live, you'll stop right there and move that box slowly to the counter. Don't make me hurt you." I used my sexy voice. "And I will hurt you."