Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) (6 page)

“I am afraid not. You will bleed every month until you are quite
old or when you have a baby in your belly.”

“Well, how do I do that? The baby thing?”

Asher was not anticipating that line of questioning. Though he did not exactly recoil, he did tense and shift around me. “You are not aware how babies are made?” I shook my head no. It never came up in the Olmstead house, at least not directly, and the one time I’d heard a discussion about it was at school when a classmate said she got her new baby brother from the hospital. I figured doctors made babies in the hospital and if you wanted one, you picked one out like a puppy in the pet store. The fact my body made them blew my mind.

“Well, when a man and woman find each other attractive, some
times they desire to show that attraction by making love, and on occasion that coupling results in a child within the woman,” he began. More nervous and uncomfortable than I had or would ever see him, Asher gave me the standard birds and bees talk.

“
That
makes babies? And women like doing it? It always hurt when Sven’s friends touched me down there.”

“Oh, Anna,” Asher said, stroking my hair once more. We rarely spoke about my past, especially the uglier aspects. In fact, I tried to banish the life of Anna Olmstead from my every memory. The life of Anna Olmstead. It didn’t matter. To me, I was born two years before. Everything before that was a mere bad dream Asher woke me from. “What those men did … was for their pleasure, not yours. Do not allow them to poison you or your perspective of lovemaking. If your partner is skilled, patient, respects your body and its needs, and you love the person, then there is no more pleasurable experience on this earth.”

“And … that’s what you were doing with Collette last night?”

His embrace tightened. “She should not have disclosed that to you. I am sorry.”

“Do you love her?”

“No. Not in the least. She is comely, and on occasion a man’s needs overwhelm him, like an itch in need of scratching.”

“You’re not going to marry her and give her a baby?”

“No,” he chuckled. “No.”

A grin stretched across my face. “Good.” I hugged my Asher tighter. “Then since I’m a woman now, you don’t need to see her anymore.”

If Asher was tense before, he was close to granite after I said those words. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, his arms slowly lowering from my body.

“We can get married now.”

His arms left me then, and he gently extracted me from his body. When I could see his face again a tumult of emotions were stacked on one another. Shock, discomfort, but above all concern. “That is … Anna, you are a child.”

“But you just said I was a woman,” I countered.

“Your body perhaps, and you are exceptionally mature for your
years, but … you have only existed on this planet for eleven years. You are still so innocent in many ways. You have so much more growing, and so much more to experience before you even consider marriage and children. And out there in this wide, wonderful world is a man who will cross your path many, many years from now, who will adore you and give you all you wish from life.”

“But that’s you,” I said with confusion.

“No, it is not.”

“
Yes
it is,” I said, my voice as hard as my eyes.

My utter conviction unnerved the veteran of three wars because a far from brief moment of pure fear filled his blue eyes. He even rose from the bed as if I were a bomb about to explode. “This has become a ridiculous conversation. You have had a trying day,
I think you should rest while I go purchase you the necessary paraphernalia for your current condition. We have missed the ballet, but if you feel better later, we shall have cake and open your gifts. There will be no more talk of marriage and children. Understood?”

I had no choice but to nod. When Asher really put his foot down, it was over. Besides I’d well and truly upset him, and the few times I’d done that, it felt as if I’d plunged a dagger into my own heart. After a nod back, the vampire fled my bedroom. Fled from me. With a frown, I fell back into my pillows. My young mind could not wrap around why I’d upset him. I was officially a woman just like Collette. We loved each other. I wanted to kiss him and be with him forever. I would do anything for him. He was the Lancelot to my Guinevere. The Heathcliff to my Cathy. The Romeo to my Juliet. My one true love. Mine. He was all mine, and I was all his. Did he not feel the same? No, I knew he loved me, maybe I just loved him more. Patience. He always said I needed to learn patience. While I didn’t think this was an intentional lesson on his part, it was a lesson none the less. One I’d master like all the others. I waited nine years for him to enter my life. I could wait for the rest to come in time.

I got my birthday wish two years ago. I would just have to do whatever was necessary to make sure I did again.
Whatever
was necessary. After all I was descended from Vikings, time to act like it.
We
were worth it.

_____

A week later, I found myself back at the barre awaiting the broken ballerina’s return. Life returned to normal the moment I stepped out of my bedroom and sat down to blow out my candles. Asher’s tension waned with one sweet smile his way. I knew him well enough not to broach the topic again. At least not directly. Discretion is an effective weapon in a woman’s arsenal. It worked too because if anything we spent more time together than ever. New abilities to harness and all. Of course, asking a pre-teen on her period to rein in her emotions proved as difficult as a man with no arms herding cats. Vampire patience came in quite handy those first nights.

Mademoiselle Collette proved braver than I had given her credit for. She walked right into our flat without visible hesitation or apprehension. I’m sure she’d convinced herself the incident was due to her tripping or that there was a draft. Most supernatural occurrences are explained away as such. After all what’s more likely, your pupil is able to control the very air or you had a clutzy moment? As Collette strutted in, wan head held high and clutching her casted arm, I greeted her with my sweetest, most innocent grin. “Mademoiselle, watch!” On the first try, I lifted myself
en pointe
with all my weight on my big toe. “I learned it all on my own.” By practicing hours upon hours and enduring intense pain through half my body just to view the ripple of displeasure that crossed her pretty face.

“Very good,
little one
,” she said with emphasis on those last words.

Though my toes ached like mad, I remained
en pointe
. “How’s your arm?”

“Fine.”

“I’m glad you can still work.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“I am. Though I am surprised you came back here.”

“Why?” she asked as she approached.

“Well, the ghost and all. I don’t think she likes you.”

“If you are trying to frighten me, little girl, it will not work. I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“You should. They’re real. I’ve even met one.”

“Have you now?” she sniggered.

“Yes. There’s one in here right now. Can’t you feel it?”

She moved to the barre to face me. “Alright, that is enough. Your childish attempts to—”

A stiff breeze wafted against her just as I commanded it to. Collette flinched and instinctively cradled her bad arm. She glanced around the room for the source. “See?” I asked. My tutor’s immense eyes darted toward me. “You should watch what you say to me.” A stronger draft knocked her hip against the barre. “Don’t want to break your other arm.”

“What … How …” she asked the air, voice trembling.

“I wouldn’t recommend coming back here if I were you. Or contacting Asher. He’s fininshed with you anyway. I mean, did he call you once this week? Visit you? No. I mean, I may just be a little girl but even I know that means he’s bored with you. Not too bright, are you?”

“You lying little bitch,” she hissed. “You—”

“Last chance to leave,” I cut in. “I suggest you take it.”

“Your parlor tricks don’t scare me, you spoilt brat. I—”

“Fine. Don’t take it. Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” So much for the easy way. I grabbed my own wrist and squeezed as hard as I could, enough I had to grind my teeth to stop wincing.

“What are you doing?” she asked. I wouldn’t let go, if anything I squeezed even harder. “What are you doing? Stop!” She grabbed my wrist to pull my hand away as I’d anticipated. Astrid often pulled this grift when she was caught shoplifting or a woman got too close to Sven. Worked more often than not. She may not have been much of a mother, but she knew her way around a con.

“Don’t touch me! Get your hand off me!” I shrieked the moment she touched me. “You’re hurting me! Clifton!”

By the time he rushed in, my bewildered instructor had released me, but I still clutched my wrist as if it were a wounded wing. “What is going on?” he asked.

“She hurt me!” I said as I rushed to his side for protection.

“What? I did not!”

“Sh … she said I tripped her, and she called me a bitch, then she grabbed my wrist and squeezed it really, really hard. Look.” I presented my red wrist.

“Did you put your hands on her?” Clifton asked, voice hard.

“I was trying to stop her from—”

“I don’t care. Your position here is terminated effective immediately. Please leave.”

“She is lying! I want to speak to Asher. I am not leaving until I do. He’ll believe—”

“Mr. Asher is out of town, and even still I very much doubt he will wish to listen to your excuses. Leave post haste, and you
may
still receive a favorable reference.”

“I … She …” She glanced from him to me, confusion morphing into pure hatred. “You little monster! You bitch! I—”

“Leave,” Clifton snapped.

Once again she looked at me, and I raised an eyebrow. I’d won the war, and we both knew it. Collette gathered what little dignity I hadn’t sucked from her and walked past us with her chin up, out of our lives. Good bloody riddance.

“Are you alright?”

I forced a small pout to my lips. Collette taught me
that
at least. “I am now. Thanks to you.” Flattery, perhaps a woman’s greatest weapon. Works every time.

Did I feel guilty as I heard the front door slam? A little. Later a lot. I hated to fight dirty, but a woman handles threats any way she has to. And though I’d only officially been a woman for a week, I always was a quick study. In a few years, Asher wouldn’t stand a chance against me.

I couldn’t wait.

_____

Any guilt I harbored evaporated the moment Asher draped his arm over my shoulders to comfort me. I snuggled closer against him on the sofa as he examined my bruised wrist. That one loving act made it all worthwhile.

“I am so sorry,
mo
chuisle,
” Asher said as he kissed the inside of my wrist over the freshly blossomed bruise. “I cannot believe I allowed this to happen. I should have seen how unstable she was.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. It looks worse than it feels. I’m fine. Really. And she’s gone now. That’s all that matters.” I nestled in closer. “But I was thinking. She still might say something about us. About what happened last week. I don’t think she believed the ghost story. She does seem the type to spread rumors too. And we have been here a year. We’ve done everything in the city. Maybe we can go someplace quieter for a few months. Somewhere in the country.” With fewer people and distractions. “I always wanted to see Ireland. We could live on the beach!”

“The beach?” he asked with a grin.

“Yeah. You can teach me to swim.” Though I already knew. “And fish.”

“You wish to learn to fish?” he chuckled.

“I’ve never tried. Maybe we can even get a boat. You can teach me to sail too. We can go around the world. Just the two of us.”

My Asher stared down at me, lightly petting my hair and studying my face. He stared at me for seconds, and with each passing moment it became harder and harder to maintain my smile. It was as if he saw right through me. Right through the lie. He knew. And the moment I gazed away, he knew I knew. I sat there in his arms attempting to keep my face and body from tensing. I’d never lied to him before. I wasn’t sure what he’d do. I could withstand his fury, even a slap, but not his disappointment. Even one little tap with that particular hammer would be enough to shatter my soul into a million tiny pieces.

Perhaps he gleaned this. He did know me better than anyone. Or perhaps he just didn’t care about my dirty tricks. Hell, maybe he was a little proud and honored I’d go to such trouble, but I never found out. Instead he kissed my wrist again before saying, “Ireland
is
lovely this time of year. Whatever your heart desires, my Anna.

I already had that right in my arms, and I would do anything to keep him there.

Anything.

It just never occurred to me that it’d be a two-way street covered with blood, bodies, and soul-crushing darkness that only one of us could make off alive.

age 13
london, england

Swinging London in the
1970s. Glam rock, free love, wild drug filled nights, the perfect place for my official debut into the vam
pire world. My thirteenth birthday. I was legal, at least under vampiric law, which hadn’t been changed from the days girls married as soon as they blossomed. Regardless, that night I could become a formal consort, taking my rightful place beside Asher’s side until death. I was no longer a secret. I was no longer a child. I would now be part of every facet of his life. My dream came true.

“Anna?” Asher asked with a knock.

He stepped into my bedroom a second later. I ceased applying the glitter eye shadow at my white vanity table. Since moving to London the month before, I’d perfected the glam rock look so popular even taxi drivers embraced glitter and androgyny. Transitioning from Galway to London was quite a shock, tantamount to landing on a new planet. I could barely tell the men from the women. In our little Irish country cocoon there was no need for high fashion or even make-up. Most days I’d barely changed out of my leotard or peasant top and corduroys. The only way I knew to overcome the culture shock was to dive in with both feet. At my request, Asher purchased for me a whole new wardrobe from Biba, Chanel, even Bianca Jagger’s boutique. Gone were the baggy peasant top and corduroy pants, replaced with miniskirts, halter tops, and boots. My transformation became complete with a trip
to Vidal Sassoon. Good-bye to my lank, waist-long locks, hello to a glowing mane that barely passed my shoulders with my bangs swept to the side just like my favorite actresses, Liv Ullmann and Julie Christie. I’m still astonished by the power of an amazing haircut. It added almost a decade to my appearance, exactly what every thirteen-year-old desires. Asher’s mouth flopped open when he saw me for the first time, which was just the cherry on top.

He wasn’t the only one to appreciate the new me. Since we arrived in the big city a month before I’d been asked out on dates half a dozen times, five more than my entire two-year tenure in Galway. In Ireland I was that odd, homeschooled American with a fey grandfather and a hermit for a father, who only left her cottage for ballet lessons. Ralph Lang, the son of my instructor, worked up the courage to ask me to dinner, then grew even braver when he stole a kiss while escorting me home. I definitely preferred country boys to their city counterparts. I’d had my bottom pinched twice just walking the London streets. Both offenders sprouted boils by the time they reached home. They may blacken the soul, but hexes definitely brighten the day.

“I need a few more minutes,” I told Asher.

“You are not wearing that,” he said with a scowl.

“What?” I asked as I rose from my vanity. “What’s wrong with it? You said I looked lovely the other day.”

Asher took in my glittery blue crop top tied in a knot above my bare midriff and fringed miniskirt halfway up my thigh, scowl deepening with every inch he scrutinized. Puberty had so far been kind, rounding out my hips and breasts, though not to the Brigitte Bardot proportions I desired, and added three inches to my height with two more still to go.

“Beyond the fact it is freezing outside, we are about to enter a den of lions, and you are dressed as prime rib.”

“But I’m your consort now. You’ll protect me,” I said with a seductive smile as visions of Asher fighting off three bloodthirsty vampires with swords flitted through my imagination.

“Then please make my task easier. Cover yourself.”

“But—”

“
Please
.”

It was a miracle he agreed to let me accompany him at all. It took nights of pleading, of pouting, of making my case as if we were in the Old Bailey. Knowing my discovery was inevitable if we stayed in London, and the serendipity that the party was on my birthday, he gave in, but the ice I skated on was wafer thin.

“Of course,” I said. “Whatever your heart desires.”

“Thank you.” After an uneven nod, he left the room so I could change.

He was nervous, about to leap from his own skin to escape the overwhelming oppression he was placing on himself. I’d never seen him in such a state before, save for the night of my eleventh birthday when I made my indecent proposal. That subject never arose again, at least not in such an overt manner. Kisses I once placed on his cheek now found their way to his lips, barely bordering on chaste. Instead of reading curled up in an arm chair, I read snuggled against him, my head resting in the crook of his shoulder. My hand always found his as if they were magnets. Doors were sometimes left open as I showered or changed. All perfectly innocent actions of an affectionate young lady, or I’m sure that’s what he told himself. Just as he’d deluded himself to my reasons for wanting entrance to the vampire world. It was denied to me all our years together, this glamorous exciting underbelly, therefore I had to be part of it. I didn’t assuage him of this misconception.

The truth was, given the choice between remaining at our cottage alone together for all eternity or in the exciting, seductive vampire world, the cottage won a million times over. Wagging tongues and vicious gossip, and growing suspicions about why Asher never apperared during the day, put an end to our country living. But Asher didn’t seem to mind. I’d sensed he was ready to move on months before. His trips alone to visit friends went from yearly to monthly, the final one lasting two weeks. Two weeks away from me. Was it any wonder I gravitated to poxy Ralph then? The gossip just gave him an excuse to rejoin the vampire community he so desperately missed. A community with tempting distractions everywhere. Ones that had already begun working their wicked magic on him. Since we’d arrived in London he’d abandoned me for them every other night. There was only one option. No matter how frightening and literally bloodthirsty the world I was about to enter could be, I had to stay at his side as much as possible or someone would fill my spot. I had to remain vigilant. I cringe at the depth of my stupidity now. Is there anything more insecure than a teenage girl?

Asher was smoothing his auburn hair in the hallway mirror when I strolled out in my white knee-length dress, white tights, and red platform shoes that matched my lips and the roses printed on the white silk. If forcing me to change was so I appeared less enticing, the act failed. I went from looking as if I were pretending to appear mature to succeeding in the endeavor. Asher’s mouth opened a fraction as he drank me in. The dress clung in all the right places and had a slight peek-a-boo slit in the middle to show a hint of cleavage. I’d witnessed a similar expression once or twice before when he “caught” me in nothing but my towel or even as I danced around in my skintight leotard. It grew harder and harder to hide my triumph through the years. Quickly, as always, embarrassment or scorn replaced his lust.

“Am I to your liking? I’m covered as requested.”

“Yes,” he said after a pause. “You look very pretty,
mo chuisle.
” My smile wavered a tad. Little girls were pretty, women are beautiful, sophisticated, or enchanting. My escort fit that bill in his white cashmere turtleneck, fitted brown blazer and trousers. “Now, you remember the story, correct?”

“We’ve been together eight months. We met in New York City, you snatched me up off the street, and brought me home with you to Galway. Tonight, for my fourteenth birthday present, you plan to name me as your consort. If anyone asks me about the past, keep it vague.”

“Excellent. Also remember, do not meet their eyes, do not go anywhere alone, and do not attempt spells or magic. Your youth and … appearance will already make you a curiosity, do not add any gasoline to enflame them further.”

“Okay.”

He stared at me, tension constricting the corners of his eyes. “There are two more unpleasantries we must address before we can depart. There are certain conditions that must be met for consortship to be granted and legally binding. First, we must live under the same roof together.”

“Okay.”

“The other two, well … the conditions have not yet been met.”

“Then we should, right? Can we do them now?”

“It is not that simple. I have undergone much debate within myself and decided … I should feed from you before we depart.”

My back straightened. I was not expecting that. “Oh. Okay.”

“If you bear my mark, there will be fewer queries regarding the third condition.”

“Which is?”

The tension in his eyes spread like a virus across the rest of his face. “That we had made love.”

The butterflies pirouetted inside my stomach. “Oh.”

“So I shall feed now, leaving visual proof of the act, and should anyone query about our … intimate relations, you are to smile and say, ‘A lady never speaks of such matters,’ then change the subject. Understood?”

Any number of replies filled my mind but considering that the ice beneath our feet was so wafer thin that even a smile would smash it, all I could say was, “Okay.”

Some of the tension waned from the sides of his mouth. “Good. Now please roll up your sleeve.”

“You’re going to feed from my wrist?”

“Yes. It will not hurt, I promise you.”

“It’s not that. It’s just wouldn’t the neck be more … intimate?”

His face twitched as if electrocuted. “I suppose you are correct. Very well.”

Inside I was grinning from cheek to cheek, but outwardly I remained as neutral as Switzerland. I’d offered my blood dozens of times when his supply ran low, but he always refused. Wouldn’t hear of it. He once went two days without when a snowstorm quarantined us. He fed from Clifton then. Not that night though. That night he was mine. All mine.

I swept my hair aside. Ralph had called my neck “swanlike.” Pale, graceful, beautiful. Now Asher was finally claiming it. Me. The man I loved was centimeters from me. We’d been closer, I practically glued myself against him any chance I had, but never like this. My body was alive, in flux, all my cells breathing in the sensation of true lust. Anticipation. Love. I knew how much this act was costing him. How my nymphet routine had eroded his resolve not to cross that last, beguiling border he’d erected to protect me even though I didn’t want that protection. This act, him tasting me, me nourishing him with my lifeforce, him invading my body and taking what he needed could very well crumble him, my noble love.
Finally.

I met his eyes, his piercing blue eyes so filled with trepidation, and desired so badly to touch his face, caress the negativity away, but knew it’d make things worse. “This will not hurt.”

“I trust you,” I whispered.

As I stared into those turquoise pools, the pleasant prickle of magic trickled through me like gentle, warm rain. My neck tilted and eyes closed on their own, letting the pleasure overtake me, that I barely registered those fangs puncturing the flesh of my neck. My body jolted but my mind was too busy twirling in the rain in time to his lips and tongue caressing the flowing blood. Then those caresses ceased, as did the magic of the moment. When my eyes opened, Asher had already taken a giant step backward and was wiping my blood from his lips with a handkerchief as if it were poison. He wouldn’t look at me, couldn’t hide the disgusted scowl. Did I taste bad? Was my blood tainted somehow? I touched my neck where those two punctures still oozed blood. “What—”

“Go clean yourself up,” Asher ordered. He gazed up, eyes now black as midnight, and bared his red fangs. “
Now
.”

Four years. I’d lived four years with that man, and for the first time ever, he frightened me. Truly terrified me. “O-okay.”

I dashed to the bathroom, even locking the door behind me. I stared at myself in the mirror, breath ragged. It was easy to forget what he really was. A hunter. A predator. He subverted that side of himself around me. To protect me. I’d roused that beast, and though for the most part I was unnerved, a part of me was singing out in victory. One more hurdle vaulted, one more barrier down in my pursuit. And though his soul may be black, it would be mine. It was only fair. I gave him mine the moment we met.

_____

The cab ride was a somber affair without a glance or word exchanged. When we finally pulled up to our host’s townhouse in Kensington, the car was chillier inside than out. For the first time since the feeding, Asher touched me, giving me his hand to help me from the cab. He didn’t release it when the act was complete, instead wrapping his fingers in mine. I gazed up with a grin but found apathy in return. That stone stare remained affixed as we walked up to the house. Judging from the loud music and laughter the party was in full swing inside the Georgian three-story townhouse. Asher rang the bell, and before his hand lowered, the door opened. A young man in black and white livery, perhaps a few years older than me, stood sentry.

“Asher and guest,” my date said.

“You may enter.”

We’d reached the official point of no return. There should have been a sign with, “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.” I still would have walked right in and shook the hand of the Devil himself with a grin on my face.

We entered the foyer, which was far more modern than I’d
anticipated. White walls, art deco end tables and lamps, even an orange shag carpet. The 70s. Ugh. As we handed our coats to the valet, a couple stumbled from one of the rooms, the woman toking a joint. She was pretty in a generic way with thick black hair, Mediterranean skin, wide brown eyes that would have given her an air of innocence if not for the layers of make-up and barely there silver minidress. I was grossly overdressed if she was an indication. The man was far more dapper in pressed black slacks and blue turtleneck, chestnut hair, and piercing brown eyes that instantly zeroed in on me.

“Hello, gorgeous-es,” the woman chuckled in a horrible Barbara Streisand imitation. Both had trouble walking, one hanging on the other for support, though the man’s problem had less to do with an altered state. He dragged his right foot slightly as they approached. “I am Minnie, your hostess with the mostest tonight. Thank you for coming to my abo-de. Abode,” she corrected a second later before more cackling. I suddenly felt as if I were back with Sven and Astrid. “That’s a funny word.”