The Witch Is Back (41 page)

Sinjin was in my rose garden. The milky rays of moonlight reflected against his hair and bathed him in an eerie glow.

As I glanced out my window and watched him pick one of my red roses, I felt anger slowly winding up my body. Sinjin should have been out sparring with his men, training them for the battle, not playing the role of gardener.

I strode out of my bedroom doors, onto my balcony that overlooked the manicured garden and was about to yell at him to get back to his men when I caught sight of someone darting out from the shadows of Pelham Manor. She was wearing a cloak that obscured her face but somehow I knew who it was.

Jolie.

At her appearance, Sinjin smiled and once she was directly before him, he pushed the hood from her face, the moon’s rays highlighting her blond hair. I felt my stomach turn. Why was she meeting Sinjin in the cover of darkness? And why the cloak? What was the secrecy about?

Feeling as if I couldn’t move, I merely watched them, watched as Sinjin offered her the rose he’d pilfered from my garden and she accepted it with a demure smile. As soon as she touched it, though, she pulled away. She
held her hand out before her and I could see the velvet crimson of her blood contrast against the paleness of her hand.

My pulse began pounding, causing a headache in my temples. I wanted to scream at her to get away from him, that she was bleeding and he was a vampire but I found I had no voice. I opened my mouth and nothing came out. Thinking I could jump over the balcony and use magic to soften my landing, I attempted to do so but found my feet rooted in place. I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t move. And I didn’t even have the wherewithal to wonder why. Instead, I was transfixed by the sight of the two of them. All I could do was look on helplessly as Sinjin took Jolie’s finger and sucked it, throwing his head back in ecstasy as the flavor of her blood hit his tongue.

Jolie, get away from him!
I thought the words, our mental connection the final opportunity I had of reaching her. But she never turned to face me, never broke away from the vampire. Instead, she allowed him to drink from her, allowed him her finger, allowed him to enjoy her.

Jolie!
I screamed inwardly again but as with the first time, nothing.

Was she under his spell? Had he somehow managed to bewitch her again? Had my charm not worn off? I pushed against the invisible shackles that kept me in place but realized I wasn’t going anywhere. I was stuck.

I painstakingly brought my eyes back to the visual of Jolie and Sinjin and felt the breath catch in my throat. Sinjin had untied her cloak and it dropped to her ankles. Beneath the cloak, she was naked. The rays from the moon delineated every line of her body, the way her small waist flared into her hips, which tapered into her long and beautiful legs. Her back was toward me and I could barely pull my gaze from her plump and
shapely rear. She was just so beautiful, so feminine, so … helpless when under Sinjin’s power.

I opened my mouth to yell again but as with the first attempts, nothing. And that was when I remembered I was a warlock and had the advantage of magic. I held my hands out before me and focused all my energy between them, waiting for the telltale sign of light to bubble up between my palms. I watched as the faintest beginnings of a bluish glow began to grow from between my hands and doubled in intensity until it was humming with electricity. Facing Sinjin, I hefted my left arm backward and hurled the ball at him. It merely blinked and fizzled before it even touched the ground. Sinjin must have seen it, though, because he glanced up and when he recognized me, the bastard smiled.

And it was a smile that said he knew I was immobile, that there was nothing I could do to stop him from having his way with Jolie. As if to prove the point, he grasped her, none too gently, by the nape of her neck and rotated her around until she was facing me. It was as if she was a puppet to his puppeteer. There was a mask of vacancy on her face; she was playing the part of captive; she was under his spell. She was his to do with as he would and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head to the side as if to prove that he could be as rough with her as he chose to be. That I was powerless to come to her defense. That I could do nothing more than watch.

He brought his hands up and stroked her naked breasts, his smile one of conquest, of triumph. Then, before I could so much as blink, he sank his teeth into her neck. She bucked against him either in shock or pain or possibly both but said nothing, merely closed her eyes as a smile took control of her mouth. He was going to
seduce her, force her to his will, and I would have to watch every second of it.

Blood spilled from the wound he’d inflicted on her neck and when he pulled away from her, throwing his head back as he savored her taste, the blood came pouring from her neck faster, spiraling down her breasts, spreading at her nipples where it dropped to the ground beneath her.

Jolie, break away from him! Use your own magic to escape from his trance!

I don’t even know why I tried; the situation was hopeless.

Sinjin’s hands left her breasts and began caressing her stomach. He gripped her waist and pulled her into him, only to bury his face in her neck again. She didn’t respond to his attack but glanced up and even though she was under his spell, she recognized me. I could see it in her eyes. She smiled as if we’d just met one another in the street under normal pretenses, as if she wasn’t standing there stark naked with Sinjin feeding from her.

I glanced down at myself, at my immobile feet and focused all my attentions on moving them, on using my magic to break whatever spell had been inflicted on me. I closed my eyes and imagined light penetrating me, brightening in energy as it encountered whatever incantation I’d been plagued with.

When I opened my eyes, the breath caught in my throat. Sinjin’s hand was between her thighs and what was more, her head was thrown back and her eyes were tightly closed. She was enjoying it!

I felt a scream tear at my throat and I sat bolt upright, glancing around myself in bewilderment. I recognized the mahogany furnishings and dark hunter green of the walls, which meant I was in my bedroom.

It had been a dream, just a horrible vision concocted by my subconscious mind. It wasn’t real. Thank God.

I stood up, the adrenaline still rushing within me. I couldn’t wipe away the image of Sinjin pleasuring Jolie, of her eyes rolling back in her head as he touched her, as he learned how to manipulate her body.

I shook my head and tried to quell the images even as they rampaged through me. Reaching for my pants, which I’d draped over the chair just beside my bed, I pulled them on, following with a white T-shirt. The pounding energy within me needed to be expended. The best way to work off the steam was to spar with my men, throw myself into practicing for the battle. Allow the testosterone that had been building within me a release.

I took the stairs two at a time and ran down the hallway leading to the kitchen that would, in turn, lead me outside to the training grounds behind the manor. All the while, images of Jolie and Sinjin continued to plague me, continued to play within my mind’s eye like a film that couldn’t be turned off. I stopped running and clenched my eyes shut, willing myself to stop the instant replay, pleading with my brain to quit bombarding me with images I couldn’t take. When I opened my eyes, the memory of the dream was gone. My magic had done its job for now, at least.

Once outside, I hurried through the throngs of battling soldiers, finding a sense of peace in the war cries, flashes of steel, and snarling of vampires and werewolves. I could honestly say I would much rather witness the pain and anguish of battle than witness another vision of Sinjin touching Jolie, pleasuring her.

I spotted Odran, the King of the fairies, as he acted the part of leader and instructed two fae soldiers in the art of magic, and more specifically, how best to attack an opponent with a lightning bolt.

Physically, Odran is the essence of power. Jolie once remarked that he resembled a lion and I think it’s a very
apropos statement. Odran is both broad and incredibly tall. I would guess he’s over six-foot-five. His mane of hair is the color of gold and long enough to reach his lower back. His eyes are amber and match the golden tone of his skin. And the King of the fae wears only kilts, either in blue or purple—the colors of majesty, the colors of the King. Although I feel very fortunate to call the fairies allies in our war against Bella, I cannot say that I care for Odran. He is too much a womanizer.

“Odran, spar with me,” I called out. Even though it was an invitation, it came out as more of a command.

Odran faced me and dropped his chin quickly in a silent greeting. Then he smiled. “Aye,” he responded in his deep, Scottish brogue.

The two fae soldiers stopped fighting one another and turned to watch us, probably pleased by the break.

Odran and I stood perhaps six feet apart. I nodded in silent recognition of the fact that our sparring was about to begin. Odran didn’t respond but closed his eyes as his body began to emit a subtle yellow glow. He held his hands out at his sides, his fingers spread as the light began to build. He was buffering his magical stores, using energy to produce more energy. I could have done the same but the nightmare images of Sinjin and Jolie I’d just had the misfortune of concocting for myself were enough to see me through this fight.

I glanced down at my hands and holding them out before me, palms facing one another, I watched as a bluish light glimmered from between them until it appeared I was holding a blue fireball. I glanced up at Odran, found he was no longer focused on building his magical reserves and, therefore, was ready to begin. I turned to the side and unloaded the fireball, hurling it into Odran’s stomach. It sizzled a few times and then disappeared. Odran chuckled as if my first attempt were mere child’s play.

Child’s play no, warm-up yes.

“Chan ann leis a’chiad bhuille thuiteas a’chraobh,”
Odran yelled. It was Gaelic, the old language of his people, and meant: It is not with the first stroke that the tree falls.

Not giving me adequate time to chuckle over his witticism, he charged me, all the while glowing a bright yellow. I braced myself for the impact—feet shoulder-width apart and core tight. When he collided with me, it was as if I’d been struck by a train. The yellow of his glow sizzled against me and I could smell the rancid odor of burning hair. I hit the ground and glanced at my arms, realizing his energy had singed my arm hair. Even though I was down, Odran continued his attack. He fell on me and his energy continued to burn me, continued to scald me with its intensity. I clenched my eyes shut against the pain and focused on my warlock abilities, focused on pushing Odran away from me. When I opened my eyes, I realized my hands were glowing purple. I was ready. I thrust my palms onto Odran’s chest and pushed. A jolt bolted through him and in a matter of seconds he was sailing through the air, landing in the dirt perhaps ten feet from me.

I took a moment to catch my breath and glanced over at Odran, realizing he was doing the same. Magically, I’d say we were both of the same degree. We were a good match. Before either of us had the opportunity to stand up and resume our jousting, Jolie suddenly appeared on the sidelines. She jogged the few paces separating us and stood between Odran and me. I felt something jealous and angry start in the pit of my stomach and the images of her with Sinjin began to flood my mind again. I fended them off, reminding myself they weren’t real and, more so, that I was acting like a jealous fool.

Jolie smiled at me and reached down. I looked up at
her and nodded with a quick smile as I took her proffered hand. “Jolie,” I said

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

I grabbed a towel lying on the ground and blotted my forehead, suddenly feeling slightly self-conscious about my appearance. I was certain I looked a mess—with smudges of dirt and mud covering every inch of me along with sweat.

I glanced at her and felt the breath catch in my throat. She was wearing her workout gear—stretch pants and a fitted T-shirt. It wasn’t a revealing outfit by any means and yet I could see the curves of her body as if she were naked. “It’s good to see you too.”

She giggled and it was a sound that pleased me immensely. I draped my arm around her, suddenly needing to touch her, to feel her beside me. I pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head as we started toward Odran, who was now nearly upon us.

“Good job,” I said to him.

“Aye, ye too,” he responded and glanced at Jolie in question, as if he didn’t understand what she was doing on the battlefield. I, too, wasn’t certain why she’d decided to visit but I was happy to see her all the same.

“Hi, Odran,” she said.

“Lass,” he answered and slightly inclined his head. “What are ye doin’ oot here?”

Jolie released herself from my hold and faced me, the girlish smile dissolving from her face. “I was hoping I could spar with you.” I didn’t say anything but I was sure my expression belied my curiosity. She continued. “I thought it would be good to take advantage of all this Underworld power and work on my magic too.”

I nodded, not finding fault with her reasoning. “That sounds like a good idea.”

I glanced out at my throng of warring soldiers, scanning them until I could find someone I could trust with
Jolie. Someone who wouldn’t hurt her, but would challenge her, all the same. My eyes settled on John, who happened to be a werewolf and the beau of Jolie’s best friend, Christa. Christa had relocated to England and, more pointedly, Pelham Manor at the same time Jolie had—when I’d taken them both under my wing to offer protection against Bella and anyone else who would seek to do them harm. Now Christa acted the part of my assistant.

“John!” I yelled. He glanced over at me at the same time Christa, Trent (a werewolf), and Sinjin did.

“Yessir?” John responded and began approaching us.

“Are you interested in training with Jolie?” I asked and offered him an expression that said he better go easy on her and if he hurt her, he’d have to answer to me.