WILLEM (The Witches of Wimberley Book 1) (25 page)

She shrugged, sniffed, and turned away as she began walking back down the trail. “Call it what you want. I poofed him. He was here. Now he’s there.”

“And he’s unharmed?” I hurried after her.

She stopped abruptly and looked a little incensed. “Of course he’s unharmed. What do you take me for?”

“A creature who wields staggering power.”

“And you think I’d misuse it?”

There was no question that she was indignant and no question that I was out of line simply because I was out of my purely human depth. “I’m not saying that. Exactly.”

“We work hard at making sure that nobody abuses their gifts, Will. Anytime you think that of me, feel free to take it to the Council and they’ll begin an inquiry.”

That was new. “The Council?”

“Let’s go home. Have a bath and dinner.”

“No. Wait. What about the Council? Who are they and what do they do?”

She sighed. “Tell you on the drive home.”

I was temporarily appeased, but as soon as we were in the Jeep and on the highway, I started in again like a dog after a bone.

“Council, Rave.”

“It’s a self-governing body set up to insure that the very thing that’s spooking you doesn’t happen. My mother currently serves. If we’re going to live in close proximity to the general population, we have to be sure that our special talents remain in check.”

“What was the catalyst?”

“Sometimes you’re too smart, Will.”

“Not an answer, Rave.”

“Okay. Okay. It was over a hundred years ago. There was a dispute between the colony and the mayor of Wimberley. One of us decided to resolve the dispute in ways that were severely unpleasant for the mayor and his family. She punctuated that with a vague threat that it would be imprudent for any future city government official to oppose the will of the colony.

“Naturally the whole thing made people afraid of us. And we can’t have that. When people are afraid, torches and pitchforks usually follow. Not that torches and pitchforks are a threat to us, but you know, it gets messy. So the colony elders got together and decided on a punishment of banishing, which really is the worst thing imaginable for one of us. They decided that having a regulatory body was a good idea and turned it into a pillar of the community.

“The Council renews perpetually with a constant seven members who are above reproach. If anyone is suspected of doing anything that might create problems for the colony, they’re given a fair hearing and then they’re given the boot.”

“I see.”

“The reality is that purely human residents of Wimberley enjoy all kinds of benefits because of our presence that they wouldn’t have otherwise.”

Purely human?

“Like what?”

“Like super clean drinking water. Just the right amount of rainfall, not too much, not too little. Price control on rents and groceries. Financial support for the schools and hospitals. They’re the best to be found anywhere. Stuff like that. Nobody in Wimberley lives in a cardboard box under a bridge.”

I thought back to the two old codgers who were on the porch of the hotel the day I met Destiny. One of them had said, “She’s one of them.” They’d been amused by my reaction to Izzy’s performance, but they were clearly not afraid. In fact, it was almost said affectionately, like they think of witches as patron saints.

“You think the townspeople know what you are and like having you here?”

“Some know. The rest suspect. Do they like what we do for the town?” She grinned. “Of course. They’re not stupid.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you when I asked if the disappeared cat was okay.”

She pursed her lips and stared at the road. “How are you going to make it up to me?” Slanting her eyes sideways, she gave me the smile I’d come to know as an indicator that she was in the mood for a good licking.

“I’ll buy you chili cheese fries at the tavern.”

“What else?”

“I’ll run you a nice warm bath.”

“What else?”

“I’ll eat you until you scream my name thirteen times.”

That got me a grin. “And then you shall be forgiven.”

CHAPTER TEN

Days, weeks, and months flew by. It was a little strange, studying the paranormal from an academic and historical standpoint, while living in the middle of a colony of witches. But it was also a very fine secret to have.

I enjoyed my classes, but found that I couldn’t wait to get back to Rave. Not that I had to be with her every minute. I spent a lot of time in my study, but knowing she was in the house, or would be soon, was a comfort.

I remembered that her birthday was October fourteenth and wanted to do something special. So I’d asked Kellan and Glory if we could have a party at their place then asked Simon to help me with a special musical tribute. What I had in mind was right up his alley, so he was glad to help.

Rave’s mother, Chalice, did most of the planning and somehow managed to keep it a secret. I’d told my prize that we were invited to dinner at Kellan’s and asked her to wear the red dress she’d worn the first time I’d seen her at the ball. I made no mention of her birthday, wanting her to believe that I didn’t remember.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Seems like overdressing. Glory is likely to be wearing Daisy Dukes.”

“No. Kellan said dress up and I told him we would.”

She accepted that explanation. Thank goodness.

I pulled out the suit I’d worn to our bell, book, and candle ceremony. It fit perfectly.

“Rave!” I called, going to the door to my bathroom.

“Yes!” she answered from inside her bath.

“Did you put a stay-the-same-size spell on me?”

“Yeah. I told you I was going to.”

I looked in the mirror and smiled. I’d spent months eating with abandon, but kept my figure. How could I object to that?

We stepped into the bedroom at the same time.

“Still the most beautiful creature alive,” I said and meant every word.

She grinned like it was the first time she’d ever been told that she was a goddess walking.

I texted Chalice to let her know we were leaving. Everybody in the colony had either walked to Kellan’s or been shuttled there by golf cart so that there wouldn’t be any extra cars or valet parkers to tip Rave off.

We pulled up to the front door, climbed the steps and rang the bell. The butler answered.

“Good evening, Mr. Draiocht, Ms. Wimberley.”

“Hello, Roberto.”

He closed the front door and said, “Right this way.”

We followed him along the familiar way to the ballroom.

“They’re having us for dinner in the ballroom?” Rave asked.

“Maybe,” I said noncommittally, hoping she didn’t pick up any hesitancy in my answer.

When Roberto opened the large double doors the entire colony shouted, “SURPRISE!”

She was indeed surprised. She flushed a beautiful pink in her cheeks and laughed her deep throaty laugh.

“You devil!” she said to me and I took that as high praise.

According to Chalice’s instructions all the women and girls wore white, all the men wore black suits like mine. Only Rave was in red so that she stood out like the star that she was in my mind.

I leaned over and nuzzled her ear. “Happy Birthday.”

We ate her favorite things and drank her favorite cocktails while people took the mic, one after another, to tell stories about Rave growing up. In between, a live band, made up of colony residents, played soft pop hits and gave the occasion a festive ambiance.

I’d planned to give her my present between dinner and dessert and was getting more nervous by the minute. I’m sure she saw the nerves because she said, “Is something wrong?”

“No. I’ll be back in a minute.” I excused myself, nodding at Rave’s family, who were sitting at our table.

Simon was sitting across the room. I gave him a signal when I got his attention. He rose and made his way to the head of the room along with me. When I took the mic, he was handed an electric guitar by one of the musicians.

“Hey, everybody,” I said, trying not to sound nervous. “Thank you all for coming to help us celebrate Rave’s birthday. This may have been my idea, but the entire credit for putting on this bash goes to Chalice. I’d still be trying to figure out where to start if not for her.

“Anyway, Simon has helped me with a little something special that I have to say.”

I’d never sung in public before and was half petrified, but the other half was determined. I knew I wanted to do a cover version of Buddy Holly’s classic
Rave On
and when I started trying to decide how to do it, I discovered it had been covered about a hundred times in widely diverse ways. In the end, Simon and I decided on the Rolling Stones version. Thankfully it was a short song. That’s what I kept telling myself.

Right on cue, somebody brought a chair and placed it on the floor right in front of where I stood on the raised platform.

“Rave,” I said. “You’re needed down here. Front and center.”

She looked around like she was unsure and for a minute I thought she might refuse, but with applause and encouragement, she managed to make her way toward me and sit in the chair. I’d say her look was a mixture of curiosity, anticipation, and glare.

It didn’t take long for her to get into the spirit of things once the music started and I wish I had a still shot of her face when I started to sing, “I’m gonna tell you how it’s gonna be. You’re gonna give your love to me.”

People got up and began dancing all around Rave. By the end of the song she was looking at me like I’d handed her the moon. Just what I was going for.

At midnight I took her home. I’d had the bedroom outfitted with a hundred white candles, as it had been the first night we’d been together. A bottle of sweet red wine was on ice, just the way she liked it. Yes. I know wine connoisseurs everywhere who are managing to not cringe about the idea of sweet red are having apoplexy thinking about red wine on ice. But Rave was entitled to her preferences, especially on her birthday.

I made love to her exquisitely slowly, playing her body like an instrument, using every detail I’d learned about how to send her into a state of ecstasy.

Afterward, I snuffed out the candles, came back to bed and lay on my back while she snuggled into her favorite cuddle position.

“How are we ever going to plan a one year party to top that?” she said in the darkness.

“One year party?”

“Yes. It’s coming up. Our year and a day is on All Hallows, October thirty-first. That’s just… seventeen days from now.”

Perhaps my heart didn’t speed up as much as I thought because, after a few minutes, I heard her breathing even out. I’d been living in denial about the built-in expiration date on the good life, but my avoidance tactic had just hit a wall.

Confrontation dead ahead.

I stared at the ceiling, knowing I only had just a little over two weeks left with the woman sleeping on my chest. I remember thinking it was a shame that I didn’t believe in love because, if I did, I would surely be head over heels in love with my Rave.

After a couple of hours of staring at the ceiling, I eased myself out from under her. She hummed a little, but let me go and went back to sleep.

After pulling on a pair of sweatpants, I padded downstairs. No shirt. No shoes. Neither was needed. The temperature in the house was always perfect. I poured myself an inch of whiskey from the good stash, took it to my study, sat down at my desk and looked around.

King of all I survey.

Two weeks.

That’s all I had left.

Two measly little weeks. I knew they’d go by so fast they were already gone.

I knew I had to start figuring out how and when to tell Rave. I’d been honest up front. I’d told her that I didn’t believe in love, certainly didn’t believe in forever, and that I was promising a year and no more. She’d said okay, but tonight, when she mentioned the one year party… It was clear she thought I’d changed my mind.