Playing with Monsters (8 page)

Chapter Eight

I sat outside the doors where the coven had assembled inside the Town Hall building, mortified that they’d called others in to witness my punishment. Obviously they had wanted them to observe the workings of the elders, which made sense, but sucked that it would be at my expense.

“Magdalena, they’re ready for you now,” one of the older ladies said as she placed the phone back into its cradle and went back to her work on the computer in front of her.

I swallowed and pushed off the chair as I moved to the wide wooden doors that led into the huge room I’d only been in a few times before as a child. The room was filled with people who were talking amongst themselves until the doors’ hinges, which obviously needed a good oiling, announced my entrance.

I wasn’t surprised to see my grandmother on the panel, or Helen, but it was my dad sitting beside her that made me lose forward momentum as I locked eyes with him. He had no right to be here; he’d left us.

He’d gotten in a huge fight with my mother, and must have left us during the night. I’d waited an entire month for him to come home before it finally sank in that he wasn’t coming back. He had abandoned us. The man, who sired us, had raised us and loved us since birth, had just walked away without a backward glance.

I’d told Kendra that he would come back, but like this, well that wasn’t how I’d envisioned it. Cassidy was his blood daughter, and I could understand some of her anger if she’d known who he was, but like our own birth records, hers would have been blank if it had occurred during a harvest celebration.

“Magdalena,” my grandmother’s tone was firm, polite. “You have caused quite a disturbance.”

I wanted to reply in my best Yoda voice, having caused disturbance in the force…young Jedi. Yup, that’s me. Sign me up, give me the light-saber and I’d be good to go.

“It’s more than just a disturbance,” Helen said and as my eyes moved to her, I passed over my father’s graying head that bobbed in agreement. “We do not make accusations against anyone without solid proof, which you lacked; much less those who donate millions into the community. What do you have to say for yourself?” she said with malice and a solid look of death in her baby blues.

“I made a mistake, and I’m sorry. I thought I saw something and I didn’t. It was my impression that if we think harm has been done, we report it no matter how small of an offense it may be. All matters are to be reported to the coven, and to be handled within their ranks. I thought he held a dead body in his arms and I reported it. I now understand that it was a dog that’d been struck on the highway, but in the dark I misjudged it.”

“I do not think you understand the severity of your accusation. Lucian Blackstone has helped this community out of a hole and has donated millions of dollars to the coven. Without him, we’d be in trouble.”

“Bad investments?” I asked.

“That is none of your concern, child,” Katy said sharply.

I turned my eyes to look at the fifty-something witch who hadn’t been on the panel when I’d left town. She was friends with my mother, or had been when they were younger, but they’d grown apart soon after high school had ended. She frequented the store we owned since her own knowledge of potions and herbalism was lacking.

“You will not make the same mistake again,” Helen continued, even though the others hadn’t gotten a word in yet. “For the next week you will forfeit the right to participate in the Awakening celebrations, unless Lucian himself allows you to. You will go to Lucian and beg his forgiveness and offer your services to him in the upcoming events he has offered to hold for us. That is yet another reason why your crime is so severe. He has supported this community, and helps us with anything we have needed of him. You will do whatever he requires of you, as long as it is within reason. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“I understand,” I mumbled. I got it, I was to do whatever he wanted. No matter what he asked, I had to do it. He could ask me to bark like a dog, and my response would be woof. I hated that if I wanted to attend anything, I’d have to ask
his
permission.

Freaking great.

“Is that all? She deserves a more severe punishment,” Cassidy pouted and I watched as my father turned and patted her arm lovingly.

“An entire week is quite enough,” my grandmother said, her eyes daring Helen to challenge her.

A week in time-out during the Awakening celebrations was huge. It was an important time in the coven, one of the biggest things in a witch’s life. A time when we would come into our powers, relieved of a curse by the witches of old to protect the young as well as the coven itself. Not to mention, they had discovered a foolproof safeguard that would continue our coven’s existence through the centuries.

Our coven has its own brand of ‘catechism’ to teach the young and pass on what heritage the elders deemed that we can know. They taught us that we descend from a very powerful line of witches and our coven originally came from Aberdeen, Scotland in the sixteenth century, escaping in the chaos surrounding one of the witch hunts of the time. Back in those days it was a scary time to be a witch, let alone piss someone off.

Several actual witches were rounded up with many innocents in the hunt. However, there was a story about one of the witches of our coven dying a horrible death at the hands of a monster that triggered the actual exodus from Scotland. The coven took the first available ships they could find and settled in what is now known as Nova Scotia.

Our coven uprooted and moved about sixty years later and became part of a coven just outside of Salem, Massachusetts. With all of the dangers that humans, demons, and the Fae posed to our coven, it was decided that we would separate again to protect our coven and the elders came up with the genius idea of locking up the powers of the young so we couldn’t give our coven away, and essentially make the coven harder to detect.

Eventually we moved to the west, an uncharted land at the time, rich for herbs and other things we needed to flourish. We survived, each family helping each other to make it to the next year. Sickness came, and with it, an entire bloodline was lost. The coven took matters into their own hands, and created the Harvest Celebration and ceremony that would ensure that the next generation would be born and the bloodlines would carry on.

During the Harvest ceremony that follows the Awakening, the ancestors are called upon to decide our mates if a witch isn’t already married and in a permanent union. Those who have been through their Awakening are literally compelled to mate for days after the Harvest ceremony. Ancient thinking people they were, they named it the Harvest ceremony to symbolize fertility and planting of the new seeds within the coven.

Witches are sexual creatures by nature; many rituals call for nudity or sex as part of the rite, however the month of the Awakening ceremony is the only time in our lives where chastity is warranted as it was thought that the powers that were unlocked during the Awakening ceremony would be more powerful, as would the children that would be sired after the Harvest.

I however wasn’t keen on the idea of creating life, but the call of the power that I could feel growing inside of me was addictive, and like the others, I was here to obtain my birthright and I’d be doing whatever it took to please the ancestors so my powers were awakened, even mating with whoever the ancestors chose for me as the mating part of the whole shebang was compulsory and not optional.

I wasn’t sure why we needed a bunch of dead people deciding who we created life with, or if we deserved our powers. They were dead, and times had changed. I understood that back in the old days, sometimes unions had to be forced, but this was the freaking twentieth century and a woman didn’t actually need a man to conceive a child. We had technology and we weren’t sheep anymore! We could use a baster if needed!

“Magdalena, wake up!”
Kendra’s voice penetrated my trail of thought.
“Seriously, you scare me. A freaking baster?”
she snickered in my head.

“She’s not even listening, mother!” Cassidy’s high-pitched cry pulled my eyes to hers.

“I’m listening; I accept any punishment given. I will go to Lucian and apologize and offer my services for any event he needs help with.”

My grandmother shook her head and I narrowed my eyes on her; she didn’t look happy with me, but it had been dark. It was an honest mistake, and I’d really thought it had been a body, and not that of a dog.

“You are dismissed, and, Magdalena, see that you make no further accusations towards our guests,” Helena sneered as she turned and smiled at my father.

He wasn’t a guest; he was one of our own. I stared at him until his eyes rose to meet mine, and I watched as he lowered them with shame.

It was official; all men sucked.

Chapter Nine

I’d tried on nine outfits by the time I settled on a white wraparound top that exposed more skin than it concealed, and low hip-hugging jeans that fit like a glove. I slipped into the
Jimmy Choos
I’d found in a secondhand store in Seattle, and looked over my reflection. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to look sexy, but I felt it was imperative.

Hands pushed around my throat and I coughed and blinked at my reflection. What the hell was wrong with me? I dabbed on some gloss and a little mascara, and headed to grab my purse. It was secondhand as well, but I’d found a thrift shop that had received a ton of donations from the well-to-dos of Seattle. I’d spent three paychecks there, and I hadn’t regretted it one bit.

Being from a family that was careful with money, I made it work. I found bargains where I could, and I bargain shopped my ass off to stay in style. I wasn’t afraid of working, nor was I afraid to get my hands dirty. I didn’t have the luxury that Cassidy was born into; getting everything she wanted. Mom and Grandma always reminded us that you appreciated things more if you had to work hard for them, and I guess they were right.

The shop kept our family fed and covered the basics for us, including maintaining the bare minimum on the manor house. However, it didn’t allow us to get too crazy. Kendra and I worked in Mom’s shop until I left, and I have to admit that I’d learned a lot from it.

I headed out the door after ensuring Luna had food and water and looked at the map that Kendra had scribbled for me. The coven had forbidden her from going with me to make amends with Lucian, and that scared me; it seemed important for her to come in with me. Why? I knew there was something off about Lucian, so why would I want to bring her to him?

I moved towards the garage where Joshua’s car was stored, and paused as I felt a sharp slice of pain move through me. I hadn’t seen the car since the day I’d driven him to Spokane to catch his flight to Georgia and Basic Training at Fort Benning. It was the last time I ever saw Joshua.

I made my feet move, and pulled the keys from my purse. He’d left me it, his pride and joy. His baby. I’d helped him build her, and she was just another example of what made us close as brother and sister. I fanned the dust away from my face as I allowed my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the garage, which was really just a barn. Joshua had converted it into his own space, and used it to fix up his car with what he made from deliveries and working at fast food places while he was in high school.

My hands removed the car cover and came away covered in a thin layer of dirt. I moved to the wide double doors and swung them open, letting the light inside. His baby was a beautiful candy apple red 1967 Chevrolet Camaro super sport, which somehow he’d made showroom floor ready again. He’d spent a pretty penny on the details, including a two-tone pleated interior. He’d rebuilt a mean four hundred and thirty horse power pace performing engine. It was a beauty for sure, with the voice of a V8 that purred to life through a Flowmaster exhaust system. 

Joshua’s best friend Bryce had kept the car in running condition, a small favor that he’d promised to do while I was gone. Cars need attention or they die, just like us. I made a mental note to drive up the border town where Bryce lived and thank him; I owed him that much. I hadn’t been ready to take ownership of the car when I’d left, and he’d agreed to come every three months or so and do the maintenance.

I pushed the key into the ignition and closed my eyes at the familiar sound of the engine clicking and purring to life as it started up. “I miss you so freaking much,” I whispered to Joshua, wishing for just one more moment to kiss his cheek, or hug him. All those simple things that I’d never get the chance to do, and had taken for granted when I’d had plenty of time to do them.

I revved the engine and made my way to the main road, then hit the gas, enjoying the rush that came from the power of such a big block engine. I’d gotten so lost in the drive that it was over too quickly. I pulled into the parking lot and took a look at the massive club.

Club Chaos was huge, bigger than any of the nightclubs I’d seen while I’d been in Portland and Seattle, and they had some pretty massively sized places. The outside was painted black, with a deep crimson red neon light that lined the trim and the doors. There was a bench outside the large club doors, but no one was taking up the space. My eyes moved to the sign again, Club Chaos, all sinners welcomed?

It didn’t look like much from the outside, but as I moved to the doors and opened them, I was in awe. I didn’t get long to look as a man with a man-bun stopped me from placing more than my foot inside the door.

“Invitation only, sweetheart,” he growled as he looked me over with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I opened my mouth to make a comment about the bun he wore his dark blond hair in, and snapped my mouth closed. He was seriously working it, and by working it, I mean this guy made it look good. Normally I’d laugh it off; most men couldn’t wear it and make it look anything but hilarious. It wasn’t until he crossed his heavily tatted arms across his wide chest in an intimidating pose that I realized I was checking him out. My eyes lifted to his crystal blue eyes and an image flashed in my mind. Last night, shovel. He’d been digging the dog’s grave. I hadn’t gotten a very good look at him until he’d been behind me, chasing me through the woods.

“I’m here on behalf of the coven, to apologize to Lucian for my actions. Is he here?” I asked, and hoped to the Gods he wasn’t.

Man-bun smiled and uncurled his arms as he stepped closer, forcing me to give ground and back up. His skin was a striking contrast to the salmon colored shirt he wore, and I wondered briefly if he was making a point, that real men did wear pink, they just didn’t admit it. His smile was akin to Lucian’s, wolfish with a hint of that whole
I’m-going-to-eat-you-alive-little-girl
shit.

“Boyfriend’s ride?” he asked as he looked over my head, to where ‘baby’ sat alone in the parking lot.

My head turned and I took her in. She was a thing of beauty. “It’s my brother’s car, or was.”

“Was? What’d you do little girl, steal it? Out for a joy ride?” he snickered.

“Actually, I own it,” I mumbled and felt a small prick of guilt and pain.

“He get in trouble and you find out, use it against him as leverage or some shit?” he asked as those eyes moved back to mine.

“He died in Afghanistan,” I whispered through the familiar lump that rose to my throat as I admitted he was dead.

“Shit,” he muttered as he looked her over once more and then moved aside to allow me access into the club. “Boss man is in his office, interviewing people and shit. Go on up, little lady.”

I moved into the club and paused, finally being able to look the place over. I’d worked in two clubs, but only until I’d gotten the job I wanted. I’d rented a hotel room, and had tried my luck in Portland while I worked at the nightclub, but the cost was a bit much considering we pooled our tips at the end of night. The first club had been smaller, and the tips pretty crappy, I’d moved on to the next one within a week and a half. The next one had more clientele, but the hours made it hard to do much of anything, let alone go to college and live in something more permanent.

Eventually I’d ended up in Pacific City. I’d been close enough to attend college classes and had landed a job at a florist while earning a degree. I’d attended evening classes at Tillamook Bay Community College, and paid for it with the wages from the floral shop and scholarships but still had a ton of debt for the degree that I still needed to finish.

Not one of those clubs I’d worked at was anything like this one. The room was larger than I would have thought it would be from outside. It had black lights that outlined the dance floor, above and below. There were other strands of lights as well as strobe and gel lights, but in the middle of the day, they were off, probably to save on the power bill. The ones at the bar were on, however, and blue and green lights pulsed beneath the glass which was mounted into the countertop of the bar. The place wasn’t deserted; a few people sat at one of the larger booths and a couple sat at one of the corner booths, and I could barely make out their features as they sucked face.

My eyes drifted to a door that was labeled ‘Sinners’ Lounge’ and my curiosity rose as I noted the huge beefy guy that stood in front of it, watching me. I ignored him as I continued to give the place a quick onceover until I found a staircase that led up to what I assumed would be Lucian’s office.

I was about to step forward when a woman placed her hand on my shoulder. “You here for the interview, Sugar? Head down that hallway,” she said, pointing a finger in the opposite direction from where I’d assumed his office should have been. “There’s a staircase at the end of the hall; it will lead you to a set of rooms. His is the one marked ‘owner.’ Good luck!” she chirped as she took off towards the bar.

I followed her directions until I was in a hallway that was lined with dark windows on either side, and from where I was, I could see an entire wall of the same dark glass. My curiosity was fully piqued, but the huge door that said ‘owner’ on it was in the middle, so I stopped and forced myself to knock once I’d worked up the courage to face Lucian.

A woman answered the door. She was in her late twenties, early thirties. Perfect raven hair framed her face with delicate ringlets. Her face was oval, with a perfect button nose that made her look even more delicate than she probably was. Her skin was ivory, and smooth, without a single wrinkle, which made me think more in her twenties. My eyes moved to her violet eyes, and then to her perfect rosebud mouth which was smiling welcomingly.

“You must be Dana; you’re late, but he is still willing to see you. Good help is hard find around this place,” she said in a whimsical tone.

“Actually, I’m Magdalena, and I’m here on behalf of the coven,” I corrected her. My palms were sweating and my heart hammered wildly as her demeanor changed from welcoming to venomous.

Whoa, what the hell?

“Lucian,” she said his name with a tenderness that made my brow rise as she continued to glare at me. “It’s a witch, want me to throw her out?” she offered.

“Let her in, and go get the others trained quickly. We need them ready for tomorrow,” he said softly, with the same familiarity in which she had spoken to him.

She turned sideways to let me through and I felt something strange coming from her; hate? Jealousy? What the heck was her problem with witches? She moved back into the room, as if she intended to stay, but Lucian gave her a look that was filled with tenderness, and she returned it in spades.

“I’ll leave you to handle your business, my love,” she said, putting emphasize in her words.

The office was immense, with expensive furnishings I’d pinned a time or ten on Pinterest. Pinned under the board labeled
‘things to buy if I won the freaking lotto
.’ Lucian was seated behind a sizable desk, with a cool expression on his handsome features and I faltered in my confidence. I quickly got real busy taking in every piece of furniture in the room.

The office was designed in rich, dark mahogany and black leather furniture. It was pure masculinity at its finest. My eyes scanned the glass wall, which was tinted, and yet wasn’t as dark as the others I’d seen. It took up an entire wall, much like the end of the hall that I’d been curiously interested in checking out. I skimmed over an old painting, and my eyes moved back to it as I took in the delicate features of the woman who had been painted.

I moved closer without even realizing I had until I was stopped right in front of it. She looked as if she could be my sister, or an immediate family member. She had the same heart shaped face and delicate features that both Kendra and I had been born with. Her hair was the same caramel blonde, with a few streaks of darker hair running through it.

I hadn’t heard him move, but the moment I turned around to ask him about her, I was eye level with his chest. I looked up before thinking about it, and met his eyes.

“Why are you here?” he asked smoothly.

“I came to apologize about my actions and accusations last night,” I whispered, and felt a fine bead of sweat forming at the base of my neck.

“The coven sent you here, alone?” he inquired as he took a step away from me, which eased my mind from wanting to run back to the safety of my car and burn rubber.

“I asked for my sister to join me, but she was instructed to stay out of it. She was also busy with preparations for the next event,” I mumbled.

“You’re not busy with them as well?” he asked as his eyes moved from me and flowed back to the picture behind me.

“I won’t be attending them,” I replied crisply, his eyes never leaving mine as I moved around the office, except to glance occasionally at the haunting picture that seemed to give me the chills.

“Why?” he asked as he moved away from me and turned back around to stare at me.

“I’m being punished.”

His eyes flickered with interest at the word, and I moved away from him. My feet took me to the glass wall, the farthest place I could stand in the huge office away from him. My body was doing things, bad things. My nipples were as hard as pebbles, and there were butterflies playing keep-away in my stomach. There was a subtle arch in my spine, and if I wasn’t mistaken, my hips had just spread in open invitation for this man.

The room below that the glass looked over was empty, for the most part. A few people were cleaning it, probably with bleach and a lot of other disinfectants. There was a raised stage that would be about knee level if I was standing in front of it. Not high enough to be used for a band, and the lack of speakers told me that it wasn’t used for music at all.

There was a large wooden X, which had chains on it, but whatever was normally connected to it must have been removed for cleaning. Chairs were pulled off to one side, also being cleaned.
Weird.

“What’s that room used for?” I asked without thinking it over. I turned to find him, once again, right freaking behind me. What the hell was he, a ninja? He made no sound whatsoever when he moved.

His smile lifted into a dangerous smirk that made me feel I’d just awoken something sinister inside of him, instead of asking a simple question. His eyes were basked in the shadows and today he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket, just the white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing ink that had been tattooed into his skin. The brief glance I sneaked of his tats was sexy as fuck, even more so than when he had worn the entire suit. He wore slacks, and expensive Italian leather boots, which should have made more noise than they had when he walked across the expensive marble floor of the office.

“It’s private,” he said after a moment of me staring at him and him returning the favor. Suddenly I felt underdressed and exposed. This man’s eyes were probing, intrusive. It was as if they could see beyond my skin and straight into the dark recesses of my soul.

“Private what?” I whispered breathlessly as my mind went back to last night, and replayed his mouth on mine, and other places.  Moisture drenched my panties and his nostrils flared, as if he could scent the proof of my traitorous body’s response to the memories.

“It’s none of your business,” he warned as he moved towards the desk and indicated with a nod of his head for me to follow him. “It could be where I murdered a woman last night,” he replied with humor in his sensual tone.

Oh, he’s got jokes!
I wasn’t laughing. Asshole.

Guilt washed over me and I blushed with it. I willingly followed him to his desk and watched as he leaned on it and crossed his muscular arms as he waited for me to take a seat. I wasn’t sitting. It would give this man more power over me if I was seated and he was looking down. I remained standing, and placed my thumbs in the pockets of my low-fitting jeans.

It exposed more of my stomach and his eyes noted it. I smiled. I felt sexy in his presence, which I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Not since I’d been cheated on. Even if I no longer felt the pain I had over Todd’s betrayal, it had shaken my confidence, and removed any sense of self-worth for a time, but it was coming back. Slowly.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I did. I thought I saw a body; I had no idea it was a dog. I think the blood threw me, and I wasn’t dumb enough to wait around to see what it really was. So I’m sorry that I assumed the worst of you.”

He nodded but said nothing. His eyes just continued to stare at my own, as if he had some sort of x-ray vision that was allowing him to see inside my soul, to scan anything that I may have seen before I met him.

“I’m also here to serve you,” I muttered and then blushed as my words played on a loop inside my head.

His brow rose and his eyes narrowed as his lips lifted into a wicked smile. “Is that so?”