To Kiss A Kringle (Southern Sanctuary Book 13)

by Jane Cousins

  She should be a grown up. Play time was well and truly over. But damn it, she had the rest of her long, potentially lonely life to be mature and responsible. So sue her, she wanted him here, now. She wanted Cullen. She wanted the memories. “I-” A harsh beeping sound interrupted her response.

  Shooting to his feet, Cullen crossed to a panel beside the massive double doors. Tapping on it he cut off the alarm, studying the screen for a moment. “Shit. I think I know where those witches are.”

  “Here?” Patricia was already reaching for her jeans, there was no time to find her bra.

  “Yes. It looks like we are going to have some uninvited company… they just breeched the perimeter.”

  Patricia yanked on her boots. “Don’t even think about asking me to hide out whilst you deal with them.”

  Cullen grinned. He hated the idea of Trix putting herself in harm’s way, but at the same time, as she stood there looking resolute and warrior ready, he couldn’t help but feel proud. She never backed down. “An Archer always packs his quiver with the very best weapons… you ready for this?”

  “Absolutely. Do we go out and face them or do we find a defendable position and wait for them?”

  Cullen’s grin turned distinctly predatory. “About that, I have a plan.”

  For some reason Patricia found herself grinning also. “Then let’s do this.” Time for her and Cullen to partner up one last time. Resolutely she pushed down on the raw desolation that threatened to swamp her, choosing to embrace anger at the cruelty of Fate instead. She thought she would be ready when the time came to say goodbye to Cullen, but here, now… bring on the witches, she so needed to hurt someone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “How do you think they found us?’

  Cullen shrugged. “They’re witches, who knows the extent and parameters of their magic. On the bright side, instead of us chasing them down they have conveniently presented themselves up for the taking.”

  “I wished I shared your confidence.” Four against two? With magic in the mix?

  “Have faith, Trix. Together, we’ve got this.”

  “Do you have any weapons here?”

  Cullen laughed. Did he have any weapons? Walking over he tapped the back of the sofa they’d spent the night on and pulled out a laser scope crossbow. “Here, take this.”

  Patricia held onto the crossbow, watching bemused as he began moving around the room pulling out weapons from every conceivable nook and cranny. Cullen casually strapping and securing the weapons to various parts of his body.

  “Where do you need me?”

  “Two are coming in from the south, two from the west. From the sensors, they are moving slowly, cautiously. I think we have ten minutes or so before they reach the house. Plenty of time to set a few traps. It’s important you know where they are.”

  “Okay. Lead the way. And after?”

  “While we’re setting the traps I want to run through the lay out of the house and make you familiar with all its quirks.”

  “Quirks?”

  “This place has been in my family for generations. It’s not the first time the enemy has come calling.”

  Cullen’s casual confidence was beginning to rub off on Patricia.

  Moving through the house at a fast pace Cullen pointed out the mansion’s quirks along the way, as well as identifying all the rooms, and all egress points. He’d been taught to set the traps from early childhood so he was able to work with quick efficiency as he outlined to Trix his grand plan.

  Patricia couldn’t help but feel a shiver of dread begin to nibble at her gut. Memorising the house layout, the quirks, the traps and how they worked was easy, given her quick, sharp mind. The problem was Cullen’s audacious plan. She felt it relied way too much on luck. Though when she protested he reminded her of his Archer skill set. Still, she couldn’t help but think that it sounded incredibly dangerous, doubly so since the way Cullen explained it, he would be the one taking all the risks.

  Hmmm, but plans were made to be adjusted, tweaked. And a good field partner knew when to follow instructions and when to deviate. She intended to have his back. Whether he liked it not. Of course it would save time and a fruitless argument on his behalf if she just nodded and agreed with everything he proposed.

  What he didn’t know might very well save his life later.

  Cullen made sure the alarm system was on silent before turning his attention to Patricia, standing beside him in the dark, wide, downstairs corridor. Damn, she looked gorgeous, crossbow raised to her chest, stance alert. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” Not like she had a choice. Gasping softly as Cullen’s lips were suddenly on hers. How did he manage that, given their height disparity? Then all thoughts were lost as she sunk into the kiss… over too soon as he broke away.

  “See you soon, Trix.” He winked, jade green eyes sparkling with anticipation for the coming battle and heated admiration. “Be safe.”

  “You too.” And just like that he was gone. Melting away into the darkness. Taking a deep breath, Patricia turned and headed for position number one that Cullen’s plan required she hold. Careful to keep to the centre of the corridor. She didn’t want to bump into anything in the dark, the electricity once more off, but this time initiated by Cullen. Thank Goddess, for her exceedingly excellent memory.

  * * *

  Cullen wasn’t happy about the two of them splitting up, as he settled into the deep shadows beside an enormous grandfather clock in the massive stone-tiled front foyer. But he had little choice in the matter given the sprawling size of the mansion. He could only take comfort in the fact that given the way the gardens had been deliberately established over the years, the sides and rear of the property were a complicated maze of twisting pathways. Hemmed in by dense, high, thorny hedges, along with walled gardens with hard to find doorways. And mustn’t forget the water features populated by territorial water fowl.

  Anyone approaching from that direction, facing all those obstacles, might well give up and circle around to the front of the mansion. Where he would be waiting for them.

  Cullen sank into Archer mode. All senses set to hyper alert. Evaluating sounds, noting the changes in air pressure, and humidity levels. There were two massive reception rooms at the front of the mansion. The Longbow room was off to his left. So named because it was decorated with antique archery related weaponry. Some of the bows hundreds of years old. But kept in excellent condition.

  Off to his right was the massive, rarely used Red room. No one knew why it was called that, considering it was decorated with green accents and lots of overstuffed furniture, with a fireplace big enough for eight men to stand upright in. Several family members postulated that a lot of blood had run freely in the room over the years. Thus the Red room. But Cullen had sat on many a knee growing up, listening attentively to stories regarding his ancestors, and from what he could tell, there wasn’t a room in this place that hadn’t seen bloodshed… a lot of bloodshed.

  The soft rattle of a window reached his ears, the Longbow room. It might have been the wind, but no. The smell of moisture on the air assailed Cullen’s nostrils. Definitely a window opening. Smoothly done. Hmmm, and now the faintest of sounds from the Red room. The rustle of stiff fabric, the floor to ceiling curtains being pushed aside. The slightest of squelches as a boot made contact with the parquetry floor.

  Two intruders working in tandem. Cullen remained still. Waiting for them to come to him. Damn, he’d been hoping to attract all four witches his way. Hopefully he would be able to deal with these two swiftly. He forced himself to push away any concerns for Trix’s safety. Concentration was the key here since he would be facing two opponents, two witches, who would be packing freakishly strong magic, if past experience with them was any indication of their abilities.

  Witches who weren’t afraid of the Karmic effects of misusing their magic. Seemingly immune to the legendary do harm and reap punishment three-fold that Serena had described as applying to all witches.
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  Their strength? Their immunity? He already had a suspicion of how they had achieved that feat. And if he was right. It would mean there was little to no chance of recovering any of the children who had gone missing over the years.

  Frustratingly, these women weren’t amateurs. They were taking their time. Quiet. Stealthy. Getting a feel for the house, the sounds it made. Testing the floor before they moved. But even so, Cullen could tell from the faintest of sounds that the witch who entered the Longbow room had made her way across the carpeted floor. Halting just inside the room. Hmmm, smart, she was waiting for her colleague to get into position.

  These women were used to working together. Working as part of a team. And if they could tap into one another powers when they shared physical contact? Then keeping them off balance, separated, that would be vitally important.

  They moved in sync. Stepping out on to the worn black and white tiled floor in the large foyer. Just one step each. Pausing. Facing one another. Cullen couldn’t see them just yet. But he sensed them communicating. Either by hand signals, or by some type of mental telepathy. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. But only time would tell.

  “We know you are here.”

  Mara. He recognised her voice. Did she really know, or was she just guessing? He had his answer as a fork of lightning cracked through the air, hitting the top step of the grand marble staircase. She had assumed he’d take the high position. Like any well trained sniper would.

  Staying quiet, Cullen waited. Blinking away the blaze of light that stained his retina momentarily. Hoping that the witches were visually impeded as well.

  “I could just bring this pile of old rocks down on your head.”

  Gwynne Partridge. The two had teamed up once more. Still Cullen remained frozen and silent. More sure than ever that the two had no idea of how close he really was to them right at this moment.

  The women had more patience than he would have credited. Likewise staying still, listening, waiting. The gloomy dark hallway eerily silent, except for the faint tap of sleet and rain as it pelted the windows in the rooms on either side of the grand entrance foyer.

  Cullen considered his options. He was going to have to make the first move, but by doing so the witches would instantly know his position. Quickly he weighed up the cost benefits of any action he might take. More aware than ever that time was ticking by and the two witches battling their way through the garden at the rear of the property, might any moment breach the house. He hated the idea of Trix facing off against them alone.

  He had to admit that having Trix in the picture changed things. Changed how he normally would have handled this situation. And yet, he wouldn’t take back a damn thing. Not last night. And not now, when he knew that by his imminent hasty actions that he might not live to regret it. But damn it. These bloody witches were too patient. Pity that the witch in his line of sight was Gwynne. He wondered if she permanently maintained the ability to harden her skin to a stone like consistency. Well, he was guessing he was about to find out.

  Of course, Gwynne was likewise about to find out a few things about him. Like how he was very good at improvising. Having scooped up several old medieval armour piercing arrows just in case he had to face the woman with the ability to command stone and turn her skin into the same consistency.

  Notching the arrow silently into place he fired and leapt sideways, rolling. Even as a crack of lightning targeted the spot he’d been in microseconds ago. Coming to a halt, wedged between two credenzas, Cullen stilled, waiting.

  “Gwynne?... Gwynne?... Are you alright?”

  “Yes.”

  The reply was low, hissed. Pain? Surprise? Hmmm, what happened to a stone witch when part of her was broken off? Could she heal it? When she returned to full human would there be a large gash? He could only hope.

  From this side of the foyer Cullen had Mara in his crosshairs. Damn, each woman was remaining within a step of an open doorway, as if they were ready to retreat at a moment’s notice.

  Couldn’t have that. Cullen moved silently, rolling into the centre of the darkened, shadow filled corridor, gliding to his feet, he aimed and let loose another armour piercing arrow Gwynne’s way. It was flying through the air, even as he turned and ran, deliberately allowing one foot to come down slightly harder than necessary.

  Arcs of lightning lit up the foyer, one sizzling too close past Cullen’s head. He could smell burning hair. Slapping at the side of his head he ducked behind the grand staircase. Pleased to hear the two witches stalk after him. Thinking they had him on the run.

  Come on. Come on. The front foyer section was riddled with traps. Step on a black, fall and splash. The rhyme flitted through his head, taught to him since the moment he could walk, understand. Break the centre circle, fire and death. Referring to the decorative inlaid Celtic tiled symbol for eternity located under the large chandelier.

  Ideally it would have been nice if both women stepped on a large black tile. But any trap sprung would create a diversion. And he was already sprinting forward as he heard the first snick and a female gasp, followed a few seconds later by a distant splash.

  “Gwy-” Another snick and flames shot out of one of the elaborate wall scones. Mara screamed. Batting at her face and hair. Cullen leapt and kicked her hard. Landing carefully. Mara stumbled back five steps, her foot coming down heavily on a large black tile, that dropped away instantly. She teetered for a moment. A flailing shadowy creature in the gloomy foyer before falling away. Splash.

  It was a long way to drop into very cold water. Handily there were two protruding bricks at water level that you could cling to when you got tired of treading water. Cullen should know, he’d accidentally tripped a trap when he was nine. His parents had left him down there for over an hour, a teaching moment they said.

  The walls of the narrow chutes were slick with slime, no crevices to use as hand or foot holds. No, the only way to escape was for someone to throw down a rope. And with Mara treading water, he didn’t think she would be stupid enough to try to use her lightning power. But Gwynne… with her stone powers. He wondered if she had sunk to the bottom of her carefully designed well or if she’d had to turn back fully human?

  Any other time he would have checked on them. But he just had to have faith that his family’s sneaky elaborate traps would hold them, at least long enough for him to track down Trix and back her up. Turning, Cullen had only taken one step forward when a flickering light appeared. Bobbing. Seemingly floating in the distance, closing in on his position in a measured way. Shit someone was coming. This couldn’t be good.

  “Stay exactly where you are.” The female voice was deep, authoritative. “Unless you want me to fry your lady friend? Human candles, they burn bright, but the smell, you’ll never get it out of the furnishings.”

  A roiling fear that was completely unfamiliar to Cullen gripped him. His entire body suddenly feeling leaden and foreign as he waited, locked in place.

  Shadows lengthened, twisting across the ceiling as that bright burning light grew closer and closer still. Until he could see them. Trix was out in front. Headmistress Hulme following behind her. One hand gripping Trix by the back of the neck. Her other hand raised, kept close to Trix’s face. That hand was alight, burning with flickering flames like a tiki torch.

  Bringing up the rear was the drab executive assistant. Despite the alien fear, Cullen’s instincts continued to fire. To study and assess his targets.

  And one glaring thing troubled him, a blind spot that he hadn’t realised existed until he came face to face with her. Never, in any of the reports, had he been able to learn the executive assistant’s name. Even when they had discussed who would be assigned to search her home he and Elijah had just referred to her as the assistant.

  Yet here, now. Watching her move. A series of connections flashed and slotted together. He would never be so slack, so careless. Unless the woman had some kind of magical geas over her. Protecting her identity. Protecting her… just like Headmistr
ess Hulme did everywhere they went. Hulme was the bodyguard. The executive assistant was the coven leader.

  Crap, Cullen was unused to surprises, given his powers, his magic. And yet another one was waiting for him as he finally looked at Patricia. That leaping flame held so close to her beautiful face made it all too easy for him to read the look of clear amusement sparkling in her eyes.

  Damn, he loved her. He had aptly nicknamed her, Trix. She was full of them. The fear in his gut didn’t evaporate but it did lessen. He should have remembered what a worthy adversary Patricia Bennett was. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if getting taken prisoner had really been in her game plan? That seemed a little extreme.

  Just at that precise moment. As if she could read his mind, Trix winked at him. Oh, yes, she’d totally let herself be taken. Damn, looked like he was playing the back-up role in this unfolding drama. But with Patricia in the lead, he found he really couldn’t resent the demotion. If anything, he found himself all too eager to watch her match wits with the witches.

  Of course the witches would presume he was speaking to them, only Trix would know better. “Your move.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Cullen.” Patricia was pleased at how modulated and calm her voice sounded. Headmistress Hulme was a large woman, only an inch or two shorter than Patricia’s six feet. But the woman was built along much stockier lines. The hand gripping the back of her neck felt like an iron band, manacling her in place. “You know Headmistress Hulme, but have you met….?”

  “Verona. Verona Butler.” The petite woman’s tone was clipped and slightly husky. Disdain and a small measure of amusement filtered her words. “And just where might my sister witches be?” She sighed, the sound tinged with irritation.

  Cullen fought not to react as the lights in the hallway suddenly flickered to life. That should have been impossible, as he’d turned the electricity off at the mains. Hell, he was starting to get an inkling as to why Patricia had changed his plans. Verona was a dark horse indeed. What else might she be capable of? Only time and careful observation would reveal any weakness he might be able to exploit. And Patricia had finagled it so he would have that time and opportunity. Smart woman.