The Witch Is Back (12 page)

The vision-me nodded dumbly as my breathing became more regular.

“Take another breath for me, love,” he whispered. “There’s my good girl.”

I inhaled deeply and felt myself collapse against Sinjin’s chest, wrapping my arms around him. He rubbed my back in large circles, reassuring me.

“What is the matter?” he crooned against my ear.

“I’m so afraid, Sinjin,” the vision-me said, and there was something in me that was chilled by the notion that I could ever be this frightened. Sinjin’s claim—that he was my protector—came back to haunt me. Was it possible that he had been telling me the truth? Was something bad going to happen to me? Did he know something I didn’t? Judging by this vision, I have to say the answer was an alarming yes.

“There is nothing to be afraid of; I will not allow you to come to harm.”

And that was when the second vision left me and I opened my eyes. I couldn’t speak for a few seconds. I wasn’t sure what to say or do, and half of me was terrified that I’d be racked by another jolt and sent God only knew where else.

What had just happened? I had no clue. But I’d never before experienced visions so real, so defined, so exact. What was more, I felt like there was no way I could discount them as hallucinations from a tired and jumbled brain. No, these were the most three-dimensional visions I’d ever had.

“What did George say?” Rose Pierson asked finally, as if she was still afraid her voice might dispel any messages I was receiving.

I glanced at her and immediately knew that I couldn’t tell her the truth; but she also wouldn’t believe me if I told her that I hadn’t seen anything at all. “Yes, it was George, Rose.” I felt bad as soon as the words left my mouth. But I had nothing else up my sleeve, and the poor old woman wanted so desperately to think George had a message for her …

She smiled. “I knew he would come through, eventually.”

I tightened my hold on her hands and smiled reassuringly. “He wanted to tell you that he loves you and wants you to continue enjoying your life. He is in a happy place, Rose.”

She nodded, and there were tears in her eyes. “Thank you, dear.” She shook her head and cleared her throat, apparently trying to get control of her emotions. She faced me again and smiled. “I always believed in you. I hope you realize what a gift you truly have.”

I just watched her as she stood and left the reading room. I debated with myself about my gift. Could it be
possible that I really was more than just a psychic? I mean, did witches see these sorts of things? I shook my head and forced the thoughts from my mind, knowing that the second I admitted to myself I might be more than I was, the floodgate on my questions and concerns would be opened—and I couldn’t say I was ready for that.

But while I wanted to refuse to believe I had anything in common with Broom Hilda, it was harder to argue that maybe Sinjin wasn’t going to play a bigger part in my life. And, what was even more interesting, I might even need him.

“So when are you going to call him?” Christa asked. It was lunchtime and I’d just finished up with my second client of the day.

I glanced up at her, chewing a bite of my turkey sandwich as she used her chopsticks to gingerly place an enormous piece of California roll into her mouth. Her lips wrestled with the huge mouthful as they tried to stretch tightly closed to spare me the inner workings of her mouth, thank God.

“Well, he obviously won’t answer the phone during the day,” I said and raised my eyebrows as I watched her continue to macerate the colossal wad, only to wash it down with a healthy swig of iced tea.

“Ah, that’s right. I keep forgetting all his vampire idiosynchronyms.”

“You mean idiosyncrasies?” I asked with a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” She reached for roll number two. I was about to comment when I caught sight of someone just outside our store windows. Looking up, I felt that bite of turkey I’d just swallowed work its way back up my throat.

“Son of a freaking …,” I started and bolted upright, slamming my sandwich on the counter as I ran to the door.

“What? What happened?” Christa exclaimed, but I didn’t bother to respond because I wanted so much to reach the door before the person on the other side did—reach it, so I could lock it.

But it was no good. He was already inside by the time I got there.

“You aren’t welcome here,” I started, my body shaking with anger and … fear. I didn’t understand what he wanted, why he wouldn’t leave me alone, and, furthermore, what he was. His bright blue aura seemed to blaze up at my outburst, flaring this way and that.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Christa was sitting up straight and hiding the remnants of her lunch. She’d no doubt just realized how shockingly attractive Rand was. Still, he was also so shocking in general that I wanted nothing more to do with him.

“I need to speak with you,” he said, and his voice warned me not to argue with him—something major was weighing on his mind.

But I was beyond the stage of arguing. “I want nothing to do with you. Please go find another psychic.”

“I need to speak to
you
, Jolie, not someone else.”

I wasn’t screwing around this time—no, I was not about to let him start all that mumbo jumbo stuff that made me feel like I’d known him forever and made me want to kiss him all over … a feeling that was already beginning to rear its unwanted head, dammit to hell.

I turned to face Christa. “Chris, call the cops.”

She frowned at me, but reached for the phone anyway. As she was picking up the receiver, Rand faced her, his eyes narrowing.

“Stop,” he said, and what happened next not only scared the crap out of me, but challenged everything I knew … and defied logic. Christa completely froze, her hand suspended in midair and an expression of surprise pasted on her face.

“Chris,” I said, my voice betraying my concern. My mouth dropped open and I turned to face him. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“She will be fine,” Rand said in a soft voice, holding his hands up as if to say he was completely harmless and I was safe. But I was hardly stupid enough to buy any of it. He was as harmless as a pissed-off rattlesnake. Crap and a half, where was Sinjin when I needed him?

“You get the hell away from me,” I cried out as he started to approach me.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Jolie,” he said, but there was no way in hell I believed him.

“What are you?” I demanded as I backed up, feeling myself hit the wall. I was cornered. Turning to my left, I armed myself with a broom that was leaning against the wall. Yes, it was ridiculous, but it was the only thing I had so I went with it.

“I am a warlock,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“A warlock!” My voice broke over the word. “As in a male witch?”

“Yes.” He nodded and stopped approaching me when he was oh, a broom’s length away.

“And I suppose you’re going to insist I’m a witch too?” I yelled at him.

That caught him off guard. He stopped whatever he’d been about to say and just stood there for a second or two, studying me carefully. “How did you know?” he asked finally.

“Because I’m not as ignorant as you would like to think and I …” I racked my brain, trying to find something that I could use against him—something to wave in front of his face that might get him to leave me alone. And of course, the only thing that came to mind was my vampire, Sinjin. “I have a protector, and one you won’t want to mess with.”

“A protector?” he repeated as his eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” I insisted, and as ridiculous as it was, I pushed the broom out, catching him in the middle of his waist with the scratchy end.

“And who is this protector of yours?” he demanded.

“None of your damn business!” I railed back at him, suddenly wondering if it would be smart to throw around Sinjin’s name. I mean, I had no idea if Sinjin would consider this guy a friend, a nemesis, or a nobody. Better to keep that information to myself. But I would tell him what was most important. “He’s a vampire and he could kill you just as easily as look at you.”

Well, I hoped that last part was true, at least. Judging by the look on Rand’s face, the threat had done its job.

“I’ve come too late then,” he said, and his voice had a strange quality to it—something that sounded sad and hollow. “He’s already found you.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I thought it would be smart to run with it. “Yes … Yes, he has.”

“Jolie,” he started again, his tone urgent this time. He took a step closer. What happened next completely baffled me. I jammed the broom at him, hitting him in the stomach with it. At the very instant that the broom hit his mid-section, I felt something like energy leave my body and travel the length of the broom. It hit him in a huge burst of bright blue light and sent him sailing through the air. He landed maybe three feet away, on his back.

“Oh my God!” I screamed, covering my mouth in shock as I took a step forward and then stopped, reminding myself that I was protecting myself against an intruder.

He sat up and shook his head, apparently trying to shake off my Wonder Woman impersonation. Then he simply stood up, took a deep breath, and turned around, exiting through the door. He slammed it shut behind him.

The following evening, I found myself driving to Sinjin’s new house. I parked in front, took a deep breath, and stepped out of my Jetta—then suddenly felt like my feet were mired in quicksand. There was a part of me that was nervous about dropping my guard and getting close to Sinjin. I mean, he was a vampire for crying out loud! Granted, we’d established the fact that he was apparently my guardian and, as such, wouldn’t be sampling my goods, but there it was—he was a bloodsucker and I was, for all intents and purposes, a blood bag.

Maybe if that brush with Rand at my store hadn’t happened, I would have been less eager to seek Sinjin out. But now something inside me felt panicked, something that demanded action urgently. I was overflowing with questions—
Why have both a vampire and a warlock entered my life? And what is a warlock anyway? What other powers does Rand possess? Is he bad, for lack of a better word? And finally, why do both Sinjin and Rand think I’m a witch? Most important, how in the hell could I, boring Jolie Wilkins, zap a powerful warlock across the room with my bare hands—well, with the help of a broom?

Speaking of the warlock, Christa had instantly become reanimated after he left the store—as if someone had turned her switch back on. She had seemed a little
confused, maybe—looking around herself as if she’d misplaced something, which turned out to be her sushi. But after finding it, she’d acted as though nothing strange had ever happened. She didn’t even recall Rand’s visit, and I wasn’t about to remind her, afraid that she’d really freak out.

I, myself, was relieved that my best friend had been restored to me and that she apparently hadn’t fared any the worse for her brief mental vacation, but that relief was short-lived. Why? Because Rand was a wild card. I didn’t know what he wanted, why he continued to harass me, or what he was capable of.

I was now incredibly frightened about the path my life was taking. It felt as if everything I knew had been ripped out from underneath me and I was spiraling out of control in a twister of doubt and confusion. It was time for answers. I wanted—no, needed—to understand what was happening.

So tonight would be the night … I planned to spill my guts to Sinjin about all of this in the strained hope that he could provide the missing pieces and fill in the gaps. And while there was a part of me that demanded answers, there was also a part of me that was rejoicing over the fact that I would see Sinjin again. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I’d missed him … a lot.

A cold wind picked up and wrapped itself around my ankles, reminding me that I couldn’t just stand out here on the curb forever. I needed to make a decision. I needed to either face Sinjin or get back in my car and go home. I swallowed hard and moved forward.

It felt like it took me two years to make it onto the walkway that led to Sinjin’s house—a three-story Spanish villa, complete with an expansive front yard filled with fragrant olive trees and Mexican sage. The sage plants hugged the lighted walkway, their long purple
blooms dancing back and forth as the wind whipped through them. I followed the undulating path as it snaked back and forth toward Sinjin’s front door. Funny how the first time I’d taken this same walk, I hadn’t had any of the feelings that consumed me now. Instead, I’d cheerfully followed the real estate agent up to the house, asking myself if Sinjin might like this property, without even the slightest idea that he might be a vampire.

There was a lone light coming from the dining room, but other than that the house was dark, making me wonder if Sinjin was even at home. Maybe he was out hunting for prey? I felt my feet fumble over each other and steadied myself against the huge pepper tree that stood in the middle of the path, trying to imagine what it meant for Sinjin to drink blood.

Was it painful for the victim? Or was it sexual, pleasurable, like Sinjin had implied? And that part about it being painful for witches, was that something I’d have to now consider? I shook my head, still not completely accepting the fact that I might be able to add “witch” to my list of credentials. But back to the victims of Sinjin’s bite … did he tell his prey the truth about what would happen to her or did he merely glamour her into acceptance? Was the person actually injured afterward or even dead? I shook my head, unable to believe that Sinjin was a killer. He just couldn’t be—not when he was so convincing about being my protector. How could he protect me and still be a murderer?