Witches of Three_Seraphina (2 page)

“Well, I haven’t finished my drink.” He looked around with that helpless air of his, searching for a place to discard it.

“Let me.” She took the margarita he’d brought for himself and drank it down, feeling the power of the tequila clear to her toes. A waiter passed by, and she disposed of the empty glass, grabbed Harry’s arm and yanked him out on the dance floor. Her sisters had entered the room, and she overheard one of them utter Harry’s name.

“Much too boring,” the other said. “We have to find someone who knows all about women and how to treat them.”

The music drowned out anything else, but she’d heard enough to know her sisters had settled on her as their project. They were going to find her a man or an Incubus whether she wanted one or not.

In the middle of the floor, she turned into Harry’s arms, and he held her lightly, properly, respectfully, boringly as they began to dance. Oh, lord. Her sisters had a point. But what did it matter? She’d gone this long in her life without a man, and she had about decided she could do without one. After all, wasn’t she having a torrid affair with her vibrator? What more could she want?

Except she did. She knew that as a virgin she was practically a phenomenon in this modern day, a relic. Or maybe not, maybe she was just an oddball, an old maid in the making, never wanting or needing a man’s touch. Never needing children or a normal life with family and home, except she did and not just because her go button had been set on normal, but because everyone needed someone to touch them and whisper words of love, someone who would need her back. She wanted children and a home that was created by two.

She’d long ago decided the kind of wife and mother she would be. She’d just never figured out the part that led up to it, the falling in love with someone, the luring the man of her choice into her arms, the letting go so her destiny was in his hands not hers. Why was this so hard? Charlie and Phil made it look easy.

The music ended, and Sera stepped back from Harry. He was blushing bright red, and she realized she’d practically glued herself to him during the dance. He glanced down at himself and clasped his hands together over his crotch. He’d gotten a hard-on, and she hadn’t even noticed! What did that say about her? She was hopeless.

“Thanks for the dance, Harry,” she said and turned away.

“Wait,” he said, grabbing for her hand, then remembering his state clasped his hands in front of himself again. “Can I drive you home after the reception?”

“I’m afraid not, Harry,” she said gently and put her hand to her head. “I’m not feeling very well. I think I’ll leave early. Thanks anyway.”

“Should you be driving yourself? I mean after all you’ve had to drink. Those margaritas can be deceptive.”

“I’ll take a cab,” she lied. Her car was parked right out front, and she intended to drive it home.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said and hurried toward the entrance.

Her sisters blocked the way.

“Not Harry,” Phil said with such certainty that one would think Sera should immediately cross him off her list, if she had such a list.

“He’s a nice man,” Charlie agreed, “but I’m sure he would bore you to death. You’re not stuck on him, are you? I saw how you draped yourself over him while you danced, but you didn’t look happy, Sera. In fact, you looked absolutely bored.”

“I was,” Sera said, rounding on them. “Are you satisfied?”

Charlie looked affronted, and Phil blinked as if she didn’t understand Sera’s attitude.

“Don’t be angry at us if you’re bored with him,” Charlie snapped. “I hear he’s a bit of a stud dud anyway. Let’s look for someone a little more exciting. Oh, there’s Ben Harrison. He’s a ladies’ man, and he has a new one every month.”

“Why would I waste my time with him just to be the flavor of the month?” Sera snapped. “I’m not going to play this game with you. I’m going home.”

“Got a date with your vibrator, huh?” Charlie said. She always loved stating the most outrageous. One could never have a secret vice around her.

“Charlie!” Phil said and put an arm around Sera. “Don’t mind her, baby. She’s so rude at times. Just because she’s found Nick, she’s full of herself.”

“Well, I have a right to be,” Charlie said and paused. “Well, all right, I’m sorry if I said something that made you feel bad.”

“You always say things that make people feel bad,” Sera sniped then swung her wrap around her shoulders and headed for the exit.

“We have to do something for her.” She heard Charlie’s remark and heard Phil agree. The words struck terror in Sera’s heart.

Please, dear lord, make them both pregnant with constant morning sickness so they have no time to bother me.

Chapter Two

She only felt a little guilty for her prayer as she swung her car out of the parking lot and headed home. The real guilt came when she realized once again, they were right. She
had
had several drinks and was driving under the influence. She set her car on automatic pilot and let it maneuver itself. Sometimes being a witch had its perks. She was half asleep when the car came to a stop in her driveway, and her head felt twice its normal side.

She’d take it easy the rest of the day, she decided, have a cup of tea and curl up in bed early to read the latest P.D. James mystery. Suddenly, her most favorite pastime didn’t seem as appealing as it once had. She thought of her sisters with their sexy, loving husbands and felt the lack of so much in her life. Somehow, it didn’t seem fair. She’d always tried hard to be the good daughter, to lead an exemplary and even more importantly, a normal life. She never used her powers as a witch, well, almost never.

There was that time when Nick Hilliard had come to see Charlie, and she’d tried to help Charlie appear nice and normal, but as usual, Phil had gotten her way. Charlie had looked beautiful in the blue silk dress and high strappy heels. The way Nick had stared at her that night and today, as if he couldn’t get enough of seeing her.

And the touching. My goodness, that man touched Charlie every chance he got, putting a hand at her waist and sometimes letting it dip lower before he brought it back, taking her hand, leaning toward her. Sera tried not to think what he must be like when he got Charlie in bed, but once in a while, a frisson of curiosity brought an image that made her blush. Charlie was lucky. So was Phil.

One day, she thought, it would be her turn. In the meantime, she couldn’t sit out here in the driveway, daydreaming. She grabbed her purse, tumbled out of the car, nearly landing facedown on the cement. But she got her footing, smoothed her hideous pink skirt and made her way to the neat bungalow that was her sanctuary. She’d loved it from the first moment she’d spotted it and had painstakingly refurbished it in the order of the HGTV brothers.

There was a second, smaller bungalow in the back, which had been used for the previous owner’s mother-in-law. Currently, an elderly homeless man she’d taken in occupied it, a fact that had horrified her mother and even her sisters. But it was her house and her decision.

Owen Cutter, an apt name for a man who cut lawns in the neighborhood, had lost his lease on his house and was out on the street. When she’d heard of his plight, she’d instantly offered her guest cottage. In exchange, he cut her lawn, ran errands and was her own personal caretaker. The arrangement had been working for three months now, and she was oddly comforted by a glimpse of him out and about her yard, puttering at this or that. So her world might not be exciting, but it was a snug, secure world and she was happy.
Most of the time
. She hurried up the steps to the front door.

It was open!

She hadn’t left it open. She was very careful about such things. She stood staring at the foyer floor and listening. The sound of cursing came to her. Someone was inside her house. Was it Owen? Would he have entered her house for some reason? What if he’d had an emergency and was looking for her. She was about to hurry inside when her mother’s words of caution came to her. What if it wasn’t Owen? She hesitated.

Should she confront the intruder? She was after all a witch and could take him down. Or should she call the police? Of course, that would be the thing, the
normal
thing to do. She eased herself back on the porch and dug in her bag for her cell phone.

“Yoohoo!”

Sera jerked up her head, searching for the source of the high-pitched greeting. She already knew who it was. Only her new neighbor, Jane Prescott, could make that god-awful screech. Jane stood in her yard, a watering hose in one hand, waving a handkerchief in the other.

“Sera, I let your plumber in,” she called. “I hope it was the right thing to do.”

Sera noted the panel truck parked on the street, Bart’s Plumbing scrolled across the top half of the side, and below ‘We guarantee to open your pipes.’

“I hope it was the right thing to do,” Jane repeated, spraying her roses.

“Okay,” Sera called and waved. She’d have to talk to Jane. When she’d given her a key to her bungalow, she hadn’t meant her to let just anyone in, not even the plumber, but for now, she’d let it go. She was too tired and despondent. She just wanted to mix herself a margarita, forget the tea and lay down for a while.

She pulled open her screen door and stepped inside. She went immediately to the kitchen. That should be where the plumber was, since her garbage disposal was on the blintz. Sure enough, when she rounded the dining room and looked toward the kitchen, she caught sight of the lower half of a man’s body. His head and shoulders were out of sight under the sink, but the rest of him sprawled across the floor. His shirt had ridden up and his abs were exposed, rock hard and well-tanned abs, she noted but didn’t dwell on it. In fact, she glanced away quickly and next encountered the bulge in the crotch of his jeans. She had an immediate image of what lay there and heat flamed in her cheeks. She moved her gaze away and saw long, denim-clad legs ending in work boots. She heard a wrench slip followed by another lusty curse.

She felt overwhelmed suddenly by the sound and sight of a large, well-put together male in her kitchen. He took up entirely too much space. And she could smell him. Men smelled different, aggressive and bold, with a ‘look at me’, kind of smell. She could even smell his crotch and the follicles of his hair, which awakened something primitive deep inside her. She wanted him gone, now, this instant. She had a premonition of something momentous about to happen.

“H-hello,” she said hesitantly.

He didn’t seem to have heard her.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello-o.”

His body jerked, his abs tightening and his legs stiffening. She heard him bump something under the sink followed by his annoyed exclamation. Then he was out from under the cabinet and grinning up at her.

“Oh, hi. You must be Sera Spencer,” he said and nodded toward the sink. “You got a real problem here. Plugged pipes. That’s why your garbage disposal’s not working.”

She hadn’t heard a word he said. From the moment he’d looked at her with wide brown eyes surrounded by dark lashes and laugh lines, she’d stopped breathing. And she hadn’t yet started again. She could only stare at him, taking in the lean, tanned cheeks, the curly dark hair lying over his forehead, the wide generous mouth with chiseled lips and a nose and jaw sculpted by the gods. She’d never seen a man as handsome as this, and it was more than just looks. It was as if she’d always known him, as if should she planted a kiss on his sweaty brow, she’d already know how he tasted. She would know his heat, his passion, and she would succumb to it any time he asked.

Damn Charlie and Phil!

“You’re not a plumber,” she said.

He stopped talking and looked at her at first in puzzlement, then with a knowing grin.

“Lady, I don’t blame you for doubting me,” he said and got to his feet as lithely as an athlete.

She wished he hadn’t. He was much taller and bigger than she’d imagined, seeming to take up all the room in her tiny kitchen. She felt him towering over her, enclosing her in a cocoon of his own making. She wanted to turn and run, but she knew you couldn’t outrun a demon, even one whose only function was to give sexual pleasure.

“I haven’t introduced myself,” he said, holding out his hand.

She didn’t take it and just to be on the safe side backed up a step or two. He noticed and stepped forward and held out his hand again.

“I’m Jack Trent, Bart’s brother. He asked me to work on your sink area.”

“I know who you are, or rather what you are,” she began, hiccupping in an attempt to breathe properly. She felt the strangest need to jump all over him. What did the girls who came to the library say, ‘jump his bones’, yeah, that!

“Well, yeah, I’m not a certified plumber, but Bart’s under the weather and I said I’d help him out. I’m really a professor of Mathematics. Can you believe it? I teach at the university.” He hooked his fingers in his belt at his hips and smiled at her. “I promise I can do the job.”

“I’ll bet you can,” Sera muttered, drew a shaky breath and tried to sort her thoughts. No, she wasn’t wrong. Her sneaky sisters had done what they’d threatened. She felt the alcohol she’d consumed at the reception rising up inside her, creating images she’d never had before, that she’d never allowed herself to have before.

“I know who you are,” she said again, trying very hard not to slur her words. “You’re a Succubus, no, that’s not right,” she put her hands to her head and swayed.

He leaped forward to catch her before she fell.

“Whoa,” he said, encircling her waist with one arm. “Are you okay? I heard you were at your sister’s wedding. Looks like you had a few too many.”

“But not too many to know who you are and why you’re here. You’re a-an Incubus. That’s what it is.” She gazed at him triumphantly. “My sisters sent you to make love to me and show me how boring my life is without a man in it, but I do just fine on my own. I have a vibrator, a good one, not one of those little…” She circled her finger in contempt and fell silent.