Spiritbound (17 page)

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Authors: Dani Kristoff

BOOK: Spiritbound
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His father’s eyes widened. ‘You can’t be serious.’

‘I’m deadly serious. Beatrice can do nothing more. We can’t live our lives like this. She can’t live like this. We have to try it.’

His father shook his head. ‘Her hatred of them is so strong.’

‘Dad. I’m not going to sit here until she dies and do nothing. I’m not going to waste my life trying not to upset her because I want to follow my own path. Nor should you. You deserve a whole life. I’m going to ask them to come. Okay?’

His father wiped his hand across his forehead. ‘If you think it’s worth a try. It’s better than the mental hospital and drugs.’

Declan slapped his dad on the back. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow. I doubt if I can get Grace to come before then.’

His father took the seat by the bed and lowered his head into his hands. Exhaustion and misery floated off him. Declan had to act for his mother’s sake, and for his father’s.

‘Right. I’m off. I’ll fetch Elvira and Grace and let’s hope they can help.’

His father’s red-rimmed eyes studied his face. ‘They won’t come. Too much bad blood. Delores has been wretched to Grace and was near feuding with Elvira before we left all those years ago.’

‘Grace won’t bear a grudge. I know it. Elvira might need convincing but if she’s Grace’s mother then I reckon they have that in common. Good, kind hearts. They’ll come.’

His father’s head drooped.

‘I’ll be back as fast as I can.’

***

It had been more than two weeks since her run in with Delores at the joining celebration. Other than that message, which was like an oasis in her life, she’d heard nothing from Declan. Grace had tried not thinking about him or about their lovemaking. Then she’d tried thinking of him and their lovemaking. It didn’t make a difference, as she couldn’t get Declan Mallory out of her mind.

A few days later, taking a moment’s reprieve from the busy flow of her life, between school and home, Grace sipped her coffee and sat back in the booth seat of one of her favourite cafés in Balmain. Pedestrians rushed by on the street, hurrying to work, to the grocer, to school. It was a marvellous feeling, letting the world swim around her while she floated, undisturbed in a café, sipping a long black. A gem of contentment glowed inside her. There’d been no further word from Declan and that was okay. She was okay.

She hadn’t decided what her feelings were yet. Either she was seriously in lust with him, and given Declan was an extraordinarily handsome well-built man, and fabulous, energetic and considerate in bed, that wasn’t surprising. Most other witches were in lust with Declan and they didn’t have her excuse. Or she was seriously in love with him. That was a tad scarier, given their shared history and the most recent events. Being in love for Grace meant joining. She could see no alternative end. If she loved, she gave of herself, her body and her life. She wanted children, and children with Declan? For goddess’ sake, that would be awesome. What she did know was that she wasn’t angry with him anymore and as she took another sip, she thought, she wasn’t feeling hurt either.

Shaking herself, she realised she’d been staring into space. Not a good look. Tugging her magazines closer, she started flicking pages. The cooking magazine displayed tantalising dishes and as she perused them, some caught her interest. Grace took out her notebook to jot some ideas down and became absorbed in what she was doing. A few minutes later a shadow fell over her. She’d been so lost in the pages of recipes that she hadn’t detected the vibration of one of the folk approaching.

Lifting her head, she sat back in her seat and gasped. ‘Danila?’ she said, not quite able to mask her surprise. The bitch-witch was dressed in a tight black skirt and a low cut über-pink top. Grace managed a smile as best she could under the circumstances. She was sure she looked like a viper ready to strike, so she added more teeth to her smile and thought of something funny—like relating this scene to Elena over a few glasses of wine.

Danila fake-smiled at her and dropped her handbag on the floor. Grace sat speechless as Danila then smirked, flicked her blonde hair back over her shoulder and drew out a seat.

‘Mind if I join?’

Grace froze, then quickly recovering, she said, ‘Sure. Go ahead.’ Her voice stuck in her throat like two-day-old porridge.
Why couldn’t she speak in proper sentences? Like, get out of my face you shallow bitch-witch
.

Danila lifted a commanding finger, summoning the waiter while managing to look down her nose. ‘I’ll have a large soy chai latte please. And make it hot. I can’t stand lukewarm drinks.’

The waited nodded and took in an eyeful of Danila’s breasts, on display in her low-cut top.

Grace closed her magazine and tucked her notebook into her handbag. She took another sip of coffee and waited patiently. She wasn’t making small-talk unless forced.

Danila leaned over the table and did a little slide with her fingers in front of Grace’s face to get her attention ‘So you’ve heard the news, I suppose. About the Dec and me?’

‘The deck?’

‘Declan Mallory and I are going to be joined.’

Grace did her best to keep her face composed. This was not what she was expecting to hear. ‘Wow. Congratulations.’

‘It’s so fab.’

‘Yes, I’m sure it is.’

Danila preened some more, flicking her gaze around the room to see who was admiring her and then batting her eyelids when she made eye contact with some random guy. Grace’s stomach churned and bile rose in her throat. She wanted to puke. Actually she wanted to puke all over Danila. That brought an evil grin to her face. That would be so cool.

‘His mother loves me. She was over the moon to see me naked in his arms in their backyard.’

Grace let mischief get the better of her. ‘I’m sure. So is he good in bed?’

Danila’s eyes looked up and then she locked gazes with Grace. ‘Sure is.’

Grace smiled nastily and waited for an elaboration. When none came, she came in with a dart of her own. ‘I heard he was rather under-endowed.’ Grace wiggled her little finger. It was a mean thing to say but it was better than hexing the other woman, which she was sorely tempted to do, even though it was extremely bad mannered and her mother and the coven wouldn’t approve.

Danila’s mouth dropped open and then closed. She screwed up her face as she composed a reply. ‘What a terrible rumour. He’s just right for a big man. A comfortable fit.’

Grace leaned in closer, suspecting the lie but not able to read Danila. A stupid bitch-witch she might be, but she kept all her shallow thoughts locked up tight in her empty head.

Grace knew in her bones that Grace was lying. She couldn’t have encountered Declan’s appendage and been so blasé about it. He was extraordinary and in no way a comfortable fit. Besides, he was a wonderful lover and if Danila had bonked him properly, she’d be grinning from ear to ear and boasting her head off. If she had done that, then Grace would’ve hexed her good and proper, boils on her face, hair falling out, tongue turning black—that type of thing. Of course it was only a thought, but she couldn’t help imagining it and grinning at the same time.

‘I’m sure you’ll find him a satisfactory mate. He intends to live with his parents and have them help with any children.’ Two could play at this game, Grace thought as she rubbed her chin. ‘They want him to have…’ Grace struggled to find a number. ‘…seven kids. One a year, preferably a couple of sets of twins so they can fill their home up with love and the sound of babies gurgling.’

A touch of guilt did wend its way into Grace’s heart when she saw Danila’s face turn grey. Her chai latte arrived and her eyes centred on it. It looked like it was her turn to throw up. A small tickling sense of guilt nagged Grace. Luckily it disappeared in a flash.

The way Declan’s parents behaved added truth to her words. Grace was about to relent, admitting to teasing her, until Danila picked up her latte, took a sip and then looked down her nose at her. ‘At least I’ll have a mate, and children. I feel sorry for you, Grace. Such a boring life, boring looks, boring talents.’ She leaned across the table and spun the magazine around. ‘Cooking meals for your mother until she dies. And your sappy half-witch cousin making clothes for a living. How interesting and exciting.’

Grace’s mouth dropped open. Danila downed the rest of her chai.
May it burn her evil throat
. She waltzed out, waving to the waiter and leaving Grace to pay for her drink. That tears it, thought Grace. With a quick and subtle twist of her magic, she dissolved the thread in the seam at the back of Danila’s tight skirt so that it started to split. A happy glimpse of her underwear was a welcome sight before she stepped out of view.
That will teach her
.

After a few minutes digesting what had happened, Grace was less inclined to feel guilty. Obviously Danila hadn’t heard any gossip concerning Declan’s adventures between the sheets with Grace, yet how cruel was Danila? It hurt so much. Danila and Grace had used to play together when they were young, until Grace had raised Fel from the dead. Hadn’t anything they’d been to each other survived? Was it all about competition and looks and one-upmanship?

At that moment, Grace was glad she had been shunned all these years. She was happy with the person she’d become. Maybe she would’ve turned out like Danila or some of the other more obnoxious bitch-witches. They weren’t all bad, she knew that, but for some reason they ended up in her face, giving her a hard time.

Her eyes passed over the cake display and she thought a little pick-me-up worthwhile. No point in returning home full of negative vibes her mother would pick up and then interrogate her about. ‘A salted-caramel macaron, thank you. And another long black, Roma blend.’

The waiter gave her a wink and Grace smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears. The waiter was Italian and with Grace’s olive skin and dark eyes and hair, she supposed she could pass for one too.

Her macaron arrived along with a fresh coffee. She was contemplating them and inhaling their aroma when Elena plonked herself down. ‘Hi. I thought I might find you here.’

‘Elena, how nice to see you. What are you wearing?’

She tugged on the material of her blouse. ‘Do you like it?’

It was a peasant blouse, embroidered around the neckline. ‘Did you make it?’

‘Yes.’ Elena frowned. ‘A bit too…’

‘It’s fine if you were a gypsy, I guess. You sew really well though.’ She peered closer at the stitching. ‘Neatly done.’

Elena ordered a café latte. ‘I just spoke to Danila, bitch face.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, she’s really down on you. How come you said Declan had a little…’ She wiggled her pinky. ‘I mean you never mentioned—’ She screwed up her face. ‘Now that I think of all the noise you made while you were at it, I don’t believe that.’

Grace bit into her macaron to stop herself from smirking.

Elena squared her shoulders and tried to use her talent to read Grace. When that didn’t work, she thought about it. ‘I think I get it. You said it to get back at her, didn’t you?’

Grace swallowed another mouthful of macaron. ‘She intimated to me that she’d been sexually active with Declan, prior to their pending “joining”. I thought I’d test that theory.’

‘She was dead lying to you, wasn’t she?’

Grace nodded before taking a sip of her coffee. ‘I don’t feel bad at all, although Mother wouldn’t approve. She said some pretty horrible things to me before she left.’

‘That cow! As if you didn’t have enough on your plate. You should never have let her have your Cinderella Barbie when you were kids. It melted her brain or something.’

Grace burst out laughing. ‘I love you, Elena. Thank you for being in my life.’ She leaned closer and told her what she’d done to Danila’s skirt. Elena guffawed loudly, then snuck the last piece of Grace’s macaron into her mouth.

‘You go too far,’ Grace said, mock indignantly.

‘That was yum. Can we buy some to take home for dessert?’

‘We sure can.’ Grace finished the last of her coffee while Elena finished hers. They left the café arm in arm, a paper bag full of macarons of various flavours in Grace’s bag.

Chapter Eight

‘What’s that?’ Elena asked as they walked up the drive. Grace frowned at the motorbike parked there and stood stock-still, her shopping bags dropping to the ground. Elena ducked down to scoop them up. ‘I’m guessing that means Declan is here.’

Grace’s stomach churned, the coffee she’d drunk turning to acid. Her legs shook a little. She wasn’t expecting to see him and was quite reluctant to. What if he had heard about the ‘under-endowed’ comment? She swallowed. ‘Elena, give me my bags back.’

Elena passed them to her. ‘Are you sure? You look very pale.’

‘I’m fine. Like a sinking boat is fine during a cyclone.’

Elena made an
O
of surprise with her lips. Grace didn’t move forward until her mother hailed her and told her not to keep dallying in the driveway in full view of their guest.

‘Drat.’

She told Elena what her mother had said. ‘Bugger!’

‘I couldn’t have said it better.’ Better composed, Grace hoisted her shopping bags and followed Elena into the house.

‘Here let me put these in your room,’ Elena said, taking her shopping and ducking down the hallway.’

‘Hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you.’

Declan stood up from the sofa. He and Elvira had been in deep discussion, if the vibes in the room were anything to go on. The curtains were open, letting in the light and providing a full view of the driveway. She had been observed.

Her mother heaved herself off the sofa. ‘I’ll leave you two to talk. I’ve got some things to prepare and messages to send to the rest of the council.’

‘Mother?’

‘We’ll talk later, dearest.’ Elvira walked out of the room without a backward glance. Grace turned to Declan, a question on her lips.

Declan picked up her hand and squeezed it. ‘It’s good to see you again, Grace.’

‘Thank you. Look, about the last time we spoke—’

‘Yes…look I’m sorry about that. My mother isn’t well. The fact is I need your help—yours and your mother’s.’

‘My help? I don’t think she’d approve.’

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