mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate (21 page)

They nodded.

“I can come help at your village if you need me,” Inara said. “I mean, I don’t really have any responsibilities now that I’ve ditched my coven.”

“Thanks,” Sofia said. “Yeah. That’d be good.” She spun and left the room, walking blindly toward the hall. 

She’d barely made it out the door before Malcolm caught up with her. He pulled her into his arms. She shuddered as his warmth closed around her.

“We can mend this,” he said against her hair.

“Really? Because it seems hopeless.”

“Yes. I’ll do anything to fix this.” His voice grew rough. “I swear, Sofia, I had no idea this would happen when I kept your dagger.”

Fates, how could he have? He was selfish, but not that selfish. She knew she should be angry with him, and she had a feeling that would come, but right now, she was so overwhelmed by what was coming at her that she didn’t have time for anger.

She sucked in a shuddering breath. Instead, she would focus on what she could do to fix this. 

The first thing would be to take what strength and comfort she could from Malcolm. Shore up her defenses for what was to come. And there was a lot of strength that she could take. He’d shared that with her. He might have gotten her into this awful mess, but he had permanently diminished his own magical power to share it with her.

And she was going to use it. She’d have to.

Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. This was not going as planned. He, Sofia, and Inara had come to her village after breakfast and arranged a meeting with the faction leaders. Though Sofia was the Protector and the strongest Mythean in town, from what he could see, each group of immortals in Bruxa’s Eye had a representative. There were no central leaders. Just Sofia and half a dozen Mytheans of a variety of species who made up the village council.

It had taken a few hours to round them all up, but they now sat in a small tavern at the edge of town. It was dimly lit, with a bar along one wall and tables and chairs along the other.  The locals had cleared out and the council members now sat in chairs that had been pulled around to face the bar.

Sofia stood in front of it in her Crone form, explaining what had happened with the High Witches. She omitted any mention of Malcolm, for which he was grateful. He wouldn’t have any trouble taking on the assortment of Weres, fae, vampires, and other immortal beings, but if he was going to have a shot at convincing Sofia to spend the rest of her life with him, having her village hate him would be bad.

“So you see why we have to abandon the village?” Sofia said. Kitty sat on a barstool next to her and her hand hadn’t left the familiar’s back the entire time she’d been speaking.

A hulking Were rose to his feet. Nearly seven feet tall and built like a bull, his face was beat in like a prize fighter’s. 

Malcolm started to step forward, but the Were bowed deeply, then spoke, his voice like gravel, “Honored One, you have carried this burden for centuries. It is time we picked up the mantle. We will fight these witches and break the curse upon our village forever.”

A small woman with sleek black hair stood, then bowed deep. When she spoke, her fangs flashed. “I agree with Hamish. You’ve carried this burden long enough. The vampires will join the Weres in fighting the High Witches. When they come here, we will be ready. If we kill them all, the curse will be broken. You’ll be free.”

“It’s not an option,” Sofia’s voice was sharp. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we cannot win this.”

A tall, slender woman with sparkling wings folded at her back stood and bowed deeply. “I am sorry, Honored One, but I do not agree. I believe that we can beat them if we are all united. Particularly if we can bring the fight to their door. I can call upon other fae who do not live in Bruxa’s Eye who owe me favors.”

“It’s not possible,” Sofia said. “I’m the only one who can access the High Witches’ afterworld. I can bring someone with me, but I’m only strong enough to bring one—maybe two—at a time. I couldn’t bring enough of us to wage a fair fight. And there is no fair fight. They got that afterworld by destroying all the souls there. They’re more powerful than all of us combined. We must depart. For all our lives.”

Disagreements rose in the air, each faction leader voicing their support for battle.

Sofia turned from them to face Malcolm, Inara, and Aleia, who stood at his side. “They won’t believe me,” she hissed. “They want to stay too badly. This is their home. We need to convince them.”

“How?” Aleia asked. “If they’re disagreeing with you—which I’ve never seen—there’s no one left to convince them. There’s no one higher than you.”

Sofia scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed. “What if we could contact my ancestors in the afterworld? They could confess to what they’ve done and if we could have all the previous Protectors speak to the wisdom of leaving, perhaps the leaders would listen.”

“But how?” Aleia asked. “Calling forth one ancestor is hard enough. You want to try for all of them? There are six!”

“I’m stronger now.” Her gaze connected with Malcolm’s. “With Malcolm’s help, and possibly Inara’s, we can call them forth.”

“It’s worth a try,” Aleia said.

Sofia turned back to the crowd. When her gaze fell upon them, they quieted. “Tomorrow at dawn, we’ll meet in the sacred circle. I’ll call my ancestors forth and they’ll speak to the wisdom of abandoning Bruxa’s Eye.” She paused. The pain in her eyes was so clear that it made his heart ache. “I don’t want to abandon Bruxa’s Eye either. It’s my home. But a battle that we cannot win and the inevitable slaughter that will follow is worse.”

The leaders shifted silently, then rose and bowed.

“Of course, Honored One,” the vampire murmured, her head bowed.

The rest echoed her sentiment.

“Good. Until dawn,” Sofia said.

The leaders filed out. Sofia collapsed against a barstool. “Fates, that sucked. And tomorrow is going to suck worse.”

“Why wait until dawn?” Malcolm asked.

“It’s easiest to contact an afterworld at dusk or dawn, when the barrier between night and day is weakest.” Sofia glanced toward the window. “And the sun has already set tonight.”

Malcolm waited while she made arrangements with Aleia and Inara to meet before dawn.

Sofia felt Malcolm’s gaze on her like a brand as she said goodbye to Inara and Aleia. Her own home didn’t have a second bedroom for Inara, who would be spending the night with Aleia in her two-bedroom apartment over the apothecary. 

She turned to leave, her gaze flashing over Malcolm.

Would he follow?

He caught up to her at the door and pushed it open. No one was on the street, so she transformed back to her normal self, sighing in relief as she re-entered her old skin.

Of course he would follow. He seemed determined to stay in her life these days. To the point that his actions had put her whole village at risk. Anger seethed in her chest as she stomped down the boardwalk toward her home.

“I’ll do everything in my power to see to it that your friends are safe,” Malcolm said. 

“It’s too late now. You’ve done your damage.”

He grabbed her arm and gently pulled her to a stop, then swung her toward him. “I know that. I apologize.” His voice was graver than she’d ever heard it. “I would never have kept the dagger had I realized these would be the consequences.”

She believed him. He
was
sorry. And he wouldn’t have done it. She was pissed he’d done it, but also mature enough that she could forgive him.

But it was so hard to forgive him for becoming a warlock in the first place. 

She looked up at him, struck by how handsome he was in the moonlight. His hair was ink black and his golden eyes were so gorgeous. Her gaze strayed to his mouth. Why did he have to be so godsdamned beautiful? And so good in bed?

Or on a desk, rather.

The memory made her shiver.

She wanted him and it pissed her off. It was stupid.

“You should go,” she said as she turned and walked down the boardwalk.

“Not bloody likely. I’m staying to help.”

The words made her feel a little better, which only pissed her off more. She stomped faster. “Why?”

“Because I want to. I want to make this right. And I want you. I’ve wanted you for centuries.”

His words made her heart race and her skin prickle. She tried to ignore it as she stopped at her door and pushed it open. She stepped into the small foyer and turned, intending to block him.

“Go, Malcolm. If you want to help so badly, meet us at the temple tomorrow.” She started to shut the door in his face, her heart and body aching to let him in.

He stepped forward and clasped her waist, lifting her and kicking the door closed behind him. His strength made desire flash through her, followed quickly by anger.

“You bastard!” she tried to shove him, but he didn’t budge. He loomed over her, making her heart race. “All you do is butt into my life. You forced your way in by taking the dagger and now you’re forcing your way into my home. I’m sick of it!”

He grasped her wrists in his big hands and forced them down, then pulled her to him. “I can’t help myself. I want you too bloody badly.”

The way he growled the words sent a shiver through her. He was so strong, so beautiful. His scent and strength were intoxicating, making her dizzy with want.

She hated that she wanted him, hated that he was here. 

Most of all, she hated that she could very well die as a result of this mess.

And it wasn’t really his fault. It was her ancestors’ fault. She’d been set up for this for hundreds of years.

And now she might die without knowing what it would be like to be with Malcolm? It wasn’t fucking fair. Her life wasn’t fair. She’d given it all up to help save her village and now she wouldn’t even accomplish that.

And this man who drew her like a moth to flame was here for the taking. He wanted her. She wanted him. So what if she got burned, if she were going to die anyway?

Anger and desire pulsed through her, fueling her. She grabbed his shirt and swung him toward the little living room.

“You want me?” she asked as she pushed him backward toward the couch. 

He let her, desire darkening his gaze. “Forever.”

The words just pissed her off more. “Impossible. But this isn’t.” She shoved him onto the couch, then straddled him.

His hands came up to grip her hips. 

“Yes,” he breathed as she crushed her mouth to his.

His lips were delicious beneath her own, lush and firm. She sank her hands into his hair and slipped her tongue into his mouth. She wanted to taste more of him. All of him.

She was so mad and needy that she kissed him roughly, angrily. All her rage over her circumstances came out in her kiss, in her motions. She ground herself against him, moaning into his mouth when she felt his hard cock between her thighs.

“Bloody hell, Sofia,” he rasped as he gripped the back of her head with one big hand. His other palm pressed against her lower back, forcing her closer to him.

She reached up and grabbed his hand at her head, then forced it down to the couch. “No, damn it. I’m in charge. You’re always in charge. It’s my turn now.”

He growled at her, his golden gaze glinting in the dim light that shined through the window, but when she pressed her mouth back to his, he put all his anger into his kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and bucking his hips so that his cock pressed against her clitoris.

She shuddered and moved to get closer to that amazing feeling. Her head spun with desire. All she could smell was him, all she could feel was him.

With a shiver, she broke the kiss and scooted back. Her hands trembled as they tugged at his shirt. He sat up and ripped it over his head, revealing the broad expanse of muscle that made her mouth water.

“Gods, you look good,” she said as she ran her hands over his broad pecs and the ridges of his abs. His shoulders were so big that she didn’t know where to start.

When her gaze caught on the new tattoo on his shoulder, a pang hit her heart. She almost growled. She had no time for soft feelings.

All she had time for was this. Fucking him. 

Her hands and gaze went straight to the fly of his pants, to the cock that pressed angrily against the rough material. It was so big that it made the breath catch in her throat.