The Witch's Thief (19 page)

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Authors: Tricia Schneider

Tags: #Regency, #paranormal, #Vampires and Shapeshifters, #ghosts, #witches, #Demons-Gargoyles

BOOK: The Witch's Thief
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“Reed!” Basil shouted, swinging his legs out from where he reclined on the bed and moved to stand. Julia raised her hand to his arm, about to stop him before he tried to rise. He had done the same the day before only to have his legs collapse beneath him, sending him crashing to the floor. Her chest tightened at the reminder of how rapidly his condition was worsening.

Again, Basil attempted to stand, forgetting in his excitement at the sight of his friend that his weakened body would no longer support his weight. Julia grabbed his arm, just as his legs folded under, but he caught the edge of the bed, lowering himself back onto the mattress.

“Damn,” he muttered, flushing with embarrassment at his inability.

Reed walked slowly into the room, his hands clutching a satchel that looked as worn out as his clothes.

“Been using magic again, have you?” Reed asked, a note of disapproval in his deep voice.

Basil waved a dismissive hand. “Hardly,” he lied, but Julia could see that Reed’s eyes had darkened at the state of Basil’s health.

“I let you part from my side for a few days and you’re off casting spells willy nilly,” Reed said, a sad smile curved the corners of his lips for a moment before he looked with alarm at Julia. “Or is this solely from traveling through the mirror?”

Julia gave a quick shake of her head, wondering if he knew of her, if Basil had talked of her at all during his many years as this man’s companion.

“I’m fine,” Basil barked, rearranging himself on the bed with a scowl. Julia had learned much in the last few days about Basil’s temperament regarding his illness. He did not like to be fussed over. For the most part, he tried to go about his day as though all was well. In the mornings, he had the strength to get from bed and walked unaided downstairs for breakfast, but shortly after midday, his limbs grew weak. Julia was grateful he was not yet confined to bed, but she worried how he would feel when the day arrived. He despised being treated as an invalid.

Reed grunted at Basil’s response, but Basil chose not to regard it. Instead, he went about introductions. Julia and Mrs. Prescott nodded and greeted him appropriately.

Reed’s gaze lingered on Julia, a light appearing in those dark depths after Basil mentioned her name. Julia’s suspicions were confirmed.

He
had
talked of her.

“You arrived faster than I expected,” Basil said.

Reed shrugged, but Julia saw his shoulders tense at the observation. “I worried.”

Basil frowned, but Reed continued before he could make any argument. “We traveled west for a few days before coming across an elderly gentlemen and his wife. They were kind enough to give us shelter during a storm that hit the area. During our stay, I discovered the wife was a witch. She agreed to allow us to travel through mirror to her brother’s home in London.”

“How fares Mary and the babe?”

Reed nodded, taking another step into the room. “Well. They are both well. They remain in London.”

“You must bring them here,” Basil said. “We’ll send a carriage at once. You must stay with us.”

“I thank you,” Reed said, the tension in his face relaxing a bit. He reached out to Basil, handing the satchel to him. “I brought your books and notes. Seems you may still have need of them.”

****

The next day, Sage burst into Basil’s bedchamber followed by Marianne and Reed. Julia frowned at the sight of her sister. They still hadn’t found a cure for Marianne. Even Mrs. Prescott was at a loss when they explained what Drake had done to the poor girl.

Sage had been busy studying the grimoires he brought back from Drake’s castle, trying to find something she missed. After Mr. Reed’s arrival yesterday, they two had been closed in the library studying medicinal books and incantations, searching for any clue that may lead them to a cure for Basil. Or at the very least, something to alleviate the symptoms of the disease. Basil had given up hope that any such spell or cure might exist and he urged them to stop wasting their time. They also searched for any spells that might bring about the reunion of Marianne’s spirit with her body. If Drake had found a spell to split them, there must be a spell to bring them together.

“I can’t believe we’ve found it,” Sage said, rushing into the room, carrying one of the heavy tomes open to a page in which he had placed his finger.

“A spell for Marianne?” Julia asked, eager to hear the good news.

“No,” Marianne said, sullenly. “But, it’s not for lack of trying. He’s been reading for days. He promises not to give up searching.”

“Oh,” Julia said, sighing. “Then what
did
you find?”

“A cure for Basil.”

Julia gasped. Silence fell in the room. She looked at Basil to see he’d grown a shade paler than normal, and she readied herself to catch him if he fainted.

“Are you certain?” he asked, moving his mouth as if it were suddenly dry as sand.

Sage’s eyes were wide with excitement. He fairly danced on the carpet, he couldn’t keep his feet standing still.

“Yes,” he said and nodded. “Yes!”

“But…how? I searched those grimoires the year before I left home. I hoped I’d find something to help me, but there was nothing.”

“This isn’t one of the Merriweather grimoires,” Sage explained, moving the book to expose the cover to their view. “I grabbed one of Drake’s spellbooks, thinking it one of ours.”

“Drake had this spell?” Julia asked, leaning forward in her seat. “But, if he had this, why didn’t he use it for his wife?”

Sage shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe he never thought to look for it, or perhaps he didn’t have it when she needed it. He might have discovered it after…” Sage didn’t finish, and his merriment became subdued at the mention of his sister-in-law’s death.

“It’s only part of the cure,” Reed added, drawing attention to where he stood hovering behind. “We’ve found there’s a combination. Part of it you are responsible for, Mr. Merriweather. That herb you found in France. The one that’s extended your life despite the illness. It’s one of the ingredients.”

“And we have it,” Sage added. “Mr. Reed brought some home. Basil can be saved. There’s just one more thing,” Sage said, dragging a chair closer and sitting. He placed the book on the table and read aloud more of the ingredients for the spell. Most were rare, but not unobtainable.

“Except,” Sage said, grimly. “It calls for three drops of vampire blood. I don’t know where we might find a vampire in England.”

Julia lifted her head from the book and looked from Basil to Mrs. Prescott, each sharing a shocked demeanor. They stared at each other for a moment in silence, their conversation from yesterday returning to their minds.

“And to find one willing to share his blood,” Sage said, shoving the book away and leaning back. “Well, I know this is most likely impossible. But, perhaps we might substitute it with something else. Surely, the spell will still work.”

Basil shook his head. “The spell must have the exact ingredients for it to work. You know that, as well as I.”

“Then we must find a vampire.”

“I think I know one west of here,” Basil said, looking at his aunt.

“You do?” Sage asked, straightening from his defeated slouch.

A small smile lifted the corners of Mrs. Prescott’s mouth. “Perhaps he won’t be such trouble, after all. In fact, Melora is the luckiest of your sisters, have I ever told you? The most cunning witch, too. And a brilliant student. Unlike you boys, she paid attention to her lessons.”

If you enjoyed
The Witch’s Thief
, you’ll want to try Tricia Schneider’s other books…

THE WITCH AND THE WOLF

Lord Jeremy North's curse is to become a werewolf during every full moon, turning into a bloodthirsty monster that kills with no remorse. When he finds a woman nearly frozen upon his doorstep, his sense of honor compels him to help her, even at the risk he might kill her himself.

Lillian Merriweather hadn't planned to get caught in a blizzard while traveling the English countryside. Nor had she planned on finding refuge in a house full of secrets. But Lillian has secrets of her own. And what she's running from is not far behind...

An excerpt:

There were several moments Jeremy North suspected he suffered hallucinations. Most of those times had been when he had first begun to change into the beast during the full moon. And now, as he answered the knocking he had at first imagined to be the pounding in his skull, he wondered if the brandy he had been drinking this evening was perhaps tainted. He could not quite believe his eyes.

A woman stood on his doorstep, covered in a layer of snow, her bright blue eyes silently pleading to him just before her eyelids fluttered closed, and she crumpled at his feet. He managed to set the candle down safely on a table in time to catch her before she cracked her head on the stone beneath her. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms, brought her into the house, slamming the door closed with his foot. He hurried into the library with his unexpected guest. North had returned earlier seeking the warm oblivion of yet another glass of brandy. He grimaced at the memory of countless other sleep-deprived nights spent in much the same way.
Sans
an unconscious woman, however.

He placed the bundled woman onto the sofa, ignoring the fact that the snow was bound to create a water stain on the fabric once it melted. He leaned over her, pushing the curly brown strands of wet hair off her face and checked to see if she still breathed. Satisfied when he felt her breath on his hand, he went back to the corridor.

“Amery!” He roared.

Turning back to the woman on his sofa, he again felt the necessity to blink his eyes, wondering if they played a trick with his senses. He lit more candles to brighten the room and added more wood to the fire. Then he walked back to the woman and knelt at her side. He found her hand dangling over the edge of the sofa and took it gently in his, the digits frozen stiff. He inhaled a gasp. He cupped both of his hands instinctively around hers, hoping to lend her his warmth.

He heard the shuffle from the hallway and Amery’s muttering, then a noisy yawn.

“Bloody hell! What is this?” Amery bellowed from the doorway.

North ignored the query. “We need blankets,” he said, instead. “She’s frozen through.”

Amery nodded and left.

A muffled groan from behind drew his attention, and he turned to see the woman’s eyelids flutter open. He inhaled sharply as her bright blue gaze fell upon him.

She studied him for a moment.

And then, she smiled.

THE WITCH AND THE VAMPIRE

Melora Merriweather is searching for a fellow witch to protect her from a scheming uncle with plans of marriage. When her carriage overturns on her journey, she is rescued by a mysterious man whom she learns is the very person she seeks. But, he’s not the witch she thought he was…

Sebastian Collins should have left for London days ago. Now a snowstorm has trapped him with a woman who has come seeking protection, a woman who intrigues him like no other. And with each passing hour, his hunger for her grows…hunger for her kiss, her caress, and her blood.

An excerpt:

“You are Sebastian Collins? Of Caldwell House?” she asked. Had she made some horrible mistake? Who knew how old this letter might be? There had been no date written on any of them. Could this have come from a previous owner of the single address she had managed to discover leading her here? But, no, it could not be possible. Her dreams never misled her.

“Indeed, I am,” he answered, relieving her fears. He paused briefly, and then continued, “But there is no Mrs. Collins.”

Comprehension dawned. The blush of embarrassment and dread crept up her neck. To her surprise, Mr. Collins stiffened in agitation.

“I-I am truly sorry,” she stated, suddenly understanding his reaction. At least, now it made sense why Mrs. Collins never entered her dreams. “I had not realized she had passed. I apologize for the grief I have surely inflicted on you.”

“No, no,” he said, with a shake of his head. He appeared to have difficulty speaking for a moment until at last, with a deep breath, he reclaimed his composure. Still, he kept his eyes cast down, toward the fire. “You fail to understand. I have never married.”

Melora stared at him. Confused, she looked again at the letter in her hand. “But the letters…?”

This time, his head snapped up, and he looked in her direction. She inhaled sharply at the sight of his light blue eyes staring at her. Into her. Through her. Sharp. Piercing. As if he searched her soul for the answers to his questions.

A word about the author...

Tricia Schneider is a paranormal and gothic romance author. Before the supernatural took possession of her pen, she worked for several years in a bookstore as Assistant Manager and bookseller.

Now she writes full-time while raising her three young children. She lives with her musician husband and two neurotic cats in the coal country of Pennsylvania.

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