Amethyst Flame

by Caris Roane

  He turned, breaking her hold on his waist. But she threw herself against his chest and his arms surrounded her in a strong embrace. She wept. She hadn’t expected Vaughn to care, not really. Or to feel anything that matched her own heart. I feel the same way. I just found you. And now—

  And now—

  After a moment, she lifted her face to his. “Vaughn, you don’t need to say anything else, and I’m pretty wrecked still about what happened to the girls. So how about we shift gears a little. I mean, I don’t expect to live out this night or if I do, to make it through the next few days. Loghry has an army and we’re just two people.”

  He nodded, smoothing her hair with his hand. “He’ll hunt for us and probably take us both out.”

  “Then before he does, I’d be happy to locate a couple of automatic rifles and knock on his mansion door. What do you say?”

  He thumbed her cheek and leaned down to kiss her. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The shifter’s clothes were a near fit for Vaughn. Max had been a big man as many of the werewolves were, especially the alphas.

  In any other circumstance, Vaughn wouldn’t have put on another man’s clothes. But he was stuck in Emma’s house, and for her sake the last thing he wanted was to wear his blood-stained leathers and tank top.

  She had a beautiful home with a dozen rooms and extensive, well-kept landscaping. He stood outside in the backyard, impressed by the grouping of shrubs and beds full of flowers. A large number of full-grown trees rounded out a solid look and would provide a lot of cooling shade during the summer months.

  Halfway down the yard, he could see an owl, with a unique white face, perched in the most central tree. Vaughn was pretty sure it was called a barn owl, a creature Emma no doubt used as a familiar.

  A gray-striped cat paced near the same tree. The pair of critters represented an essential element for an alter witch. Vaughn didn’t get it, but cats and owls served witches, adding to their power.

  They both stared at him as though having human thoughts. Each appeared to be taking his measure.

  “Hey.”

  He turned at the sound of Emma’s voice and watched her cross the threshold to the backyard. She wore a light green t-shirt and her usual jeans, a great look for her. She’d arranged the front part of her long hair in a top knot again. She was a beautiful woman with creamy white skin, rich auburn hair and emerald green eyes.

  She moved toward him. “Have you met Toby and Stormy?”

  He couldn’t help but be a little amused. “Those names are too precious, Em.”

  She chuckled. “I know, I know. But that’s what came to me when I invoked one of my first spells. You can make fun of me if you want. Sometimes, I’m plain-old embarrassed.”

  “So which one is Toby?”

  She inclined her head toward the tree. “My cat. I’ve had him with me almost as long as I’ve been here. He showed up on my doorstep as a lost kitten. Now he helps guard my property.” The cat, hearing his name, headed in Emma’s direction.

  He could tell she was teasing about the last bit because of the quirk to her lips. Though he’d only been with her twice now, he realized she often smiled with a charming twist of her lips.

  He held out his arm to her and she joined him, sliding her own arm around his waist. When he pulled her close, she leaned her head into the well of his shoulder.

  So much affection flowed through his chest that he had the worst impulse to tell her he loved her.

  After he’d been with her in the dressing room, he’d become overwhelmed with a profound sense of loss. He had nothing to give Emma, and they had a death sentence.

  For reasons he couldn’t explain, thoughts of how he’d lost his sister had gained a foothold. He’d basically run from those feelings only to find Emma pressed up against him in the shower. He’d shed some tears, which still pissed him off. He didn’t want to get caught up in something like this, and it sucked that for the first time in his entire eleven years in Five Bridges, he was close to falling in love.

  There. He’d admitted the whole damn thing to himself. Hell, he’d probably tumbled hard the moment he found her pulling boxes of flowers out of Loghry’s van that night.

  Easton had sent him to Sentinel Bridge, which separated Elegance Territory from the human part of Phoenix. His boss had wanted Vaughn to bring a delivery van safely through as a personal favor to him.

  When he asked Emma what she was doing, she’d told him straight out that she was saving some girls. He’d cursed Easton under his breath, then pitched in and helped.

  He could still remember her flushed cheeks and the glitter in her green eyes. Together, they’d unloaded the rest of the flowers then lifted the lid of the hidden container. The sight of the triplets, drugged, unconscious, and jammed into such a small space, still burned in his mind.

  After he and Emma had driven them home personally, crossing the U.S. government controlled border to get them back to their families in Phoenix, he’d been pumped. She had as well. That’s when they’d celebrated first with a few beers, then sex on his sofa.

  Now they were here, knowing full well Loghry wouldn’t rest until they were both dead.

  He squeezed her shoulders gently. “So, I’ve been thinking. I can’t risk going home, not now. But I have several fellow officers I trust, and I can get some weapons sent to a Crescent Territory drop point, maybe a couple of AR-15s and some ammo.”

  “Sounds good.” Emma released him, then started to pace a few feet away. Toby had drawn close, though he sat and eyed her movements, his tail twitching. “But I think I should spend some time with my brew pot. I just have this feeling ... ”

  “About what?”

  She stopped and met his gaze. “Earlier, when I was in the ditch and opened myself up to my power, I had a moment of seeing the future in a series of images, like snapshots. At the time, I set it aside, because I felt the need to focus on the girls, to help their spirits move out of their bodies. But right now, I want to see if I can tap into the future. It might help us.”

  “You believe that?” He was unfamiliar with witch things in the same way she no doubt couldn’t relate to his blood-cravings. Hell, it had taken him a couple of years to accept his physical need to pierce the vein.

  For a moment, his mind got caught on exactly how he’d tapped into her blood while in her dressing room. His nostrils flared. He wanted to do it again, maybe tap into a different place next time. His gaze fell to her breasts, though he glanced away quickly.

  She shrugged. “I at least want to see if I can engage with some form of prescience. I can’t promise anything, but I’ve always known I had a lot of latent ability.”

  He made a point to keep his gaze on her face. “I’ve always valued that about you, Emma. Before I got to know you, I thought most witches were power hungry—” He almost added ‘monsters’, which wouldn’t have helped their situation.

  Her lips quirked. “Most who work hard at expanding their witch abilities are after more power, so I understand your disdain. For me, it was different, but not necessarily better, as time has proved. I’ve been pretending I’m still human. And I’m not.

  “But what ticks me off is that right now, if I was a stronger witch, we’d have a much better chance of taking Loghry down. Instead, it’s sort of like fighting a forest fire with a bucket of water. But I’m done with that and maybe you should prepare yourself, because I might become what you despise the most.”

  He could sense her distress. He took hold of her arms in a gentle grip. “Hey, I could never think badly of you. I know your character, and I trust you. I do.”

  “But what if I’m all spelled up and become the kind of witch who no longer cares, who could actually hurt you?”

  “Then we’ll deal with it. Right now, I don’t give a damn if you grow hooves and horns so long as it will help us battle Loghry.”

  She grinned. “Oh, now there’s a lovely picture.”

  She turne
d and headed back into the house. “I’ll be in my spellroom. And, by the way, Stormy and Toby approve of you, in case you hadn’t noticed. Stormy, the owl, would have turned his back on you if he hadn’t thought you were amazing.”

  Vaughn glanced at the owl first, who still stared at him, then looked down at the cat. Toby was doing a figure-eight around his ankles, weaving in and out and purring. He’d never been much of a cat person, but he’d felt the same way about witches until Emma.

  There was always a first time.

  From inside the house, Emma gestured to the west wing. “My spellroom is this way, if you need me.”

  When she disappeared down the hall, he called Robert Brannick, one of his good friends and a fellow officer at Crescent Border Patrol. He reached the station and got routed to Lily in dispatch.

  She kept her voice low. “Easton’s been asking about you, wanting to know the second you call in. We all heard what happened at the Graveyard. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not shot up and bleeding to death?”

  “Nope.”

  “How about that TPS officer you were with? The witch. Did she survive?”

  “GSW to the right calf, but she’s all healed up. She’d made some kind of healing potion. It worked fast.”

  Lily whistled softly. “That’s some kind of power.”

  He’d known Emma had potential, but even he’d been surprised when he’d felt her power at the Graveyard and of course later, when he’d made love to her.

  Again, his mind got caught on his drive to get her on her back again. He’d thought making love to her would settle him down. The opposite appeared to be true.

  Lily’s voice broke his train of thought. “Vaughn, what the hell is going on? At least a dozen of your brothers-in-arms were ready to take on the entire Elegance Border Patrol for what they did. Easton had five of our own jailed to keep them from going apeshit because of the attack.”

  “Was Brannick one of them? Is he locked up?”

  “No, thank God. But you know what a cool head he has. Though, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look as grim as he did when he heard what happened.”

  Vaughn wasn’t surprised that some of his fellow officers had taken the attack hard. It was one thing for vampires to be killed by dark coven witches and warlocks as part of executions or even sacrifices. But an assassination attempt by a police force was a different animal altogether.

  “I won’t pretend I’m not in trouble. Loghry is behind this attack.”

  “Seriously? The wizard who owns all those sex clubs in Elegance? Oh-h-h-h, wait a minute. It’s retribution for the girls you and that witch rescued, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. He abducted the triplets again, then tortured and killed them. So, yeah, this was personal.”

  Lily got very quiet, then finally asked in a voice full of despair. “Are we going to see you again?”

  She’d asked the question of the night. “Hell if I know. But I’m not going down without a fight, which is why I need to talk to Brannick. I need his help, and I need you to keep this on the down low. Can you do that or will this get you in trouble with Easton?”

  Silence followed for a few difficult seconds. When Lily spoke, he heard granite in her voice. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Easton is a pig. Just tell me what you need me to do. I’ll come to you, if that will help. I’ll walk out of this building right now and to hell with the calls that come in. There are only a handful of you men on the right side of things and Vaughn, I tell you this with all sincerity, I’d lay down my life for you. So, I mean it when I say ask anything of me.”

  His throat grew tight, and he had to take a minute before he could answer her. He swallowed hard a couple of times. “Tell you what. Go ahead and contact Brannick directly. Tell him I need weapons, a couple of AR-15s and ammo for my Glock. Have him take a duffel to the safe house in central Crescent. He’ll know the one I mean. I’m not sure when I can get there to retrieve it, but I’ll call you back in a few to check on timing.”

  “You got it. Shit, Easton just walked in.”

  He heard the clicking sound of the disconnect and didn’t attempt to call back. Lily knew what she had to do, both to contact Brannick and to keep herself safe as well as to deal with Easton.

  The chief of Crescent Border Patrol was in deep with the cartels that supported Loghry. Any suspect move on Lily’s part could get her killed.

  But how the hell were he and Emma supposed to bust into Loghry’s mansion when security was known to be the best in Five Bridges?

  ~ ~ ~

  Emma loved her spellroom. It overlooked her garden at the northwest side of her property, and whenever she was in the space, her owl would fly to the very old Indian laurel that shaded her French doors. She often threw them wide when she was mixing a brew in her cauldron, which she did now. She called to Stormy and he fluffed his wings in response.

  When she’d first become an alter witch, she’d felt compelled to create what for every witch or warlock was a very private, personal space. She’d visited a number of spellrooms and from her response to each, she designed the best layout for her own spellcasting and brewmaking equipment.

  She hadn’t been so opposed to exploring her craft in the early days. It was only a few weeks later that she’d made the decision to permanently limit her spellcasting powers. She’d learned to her horror that many powerful witches belonged to dark covens that routinely slaughtered other species, especially vampires.

  On the west wall of her room was a hutch she’d had fitted out with several shelves. Glass canisters, each bearing black labels and gold calligraphy, contained dozens of dried herbs, seeds and pods, as well as mushrooms, leaves, roots, and flowers. Her housekeeper kept the room immaculate, but from the time Emma had filled each container, she hadn’t used but a handful of the contents in seven years. A spell kept them all from deteriorating.

  She lit the gas flame beneath her cauldron and added a cup of purified water and a bay leaf. She had one goal, to see as much of the future as she could so that she and Vaughn could plan accordingly. Bay always increased a sense that the future was only a thought away.

  Once the water was releasing steam, she moved to stand in front of her canisters. She repeated the words of a spell meant to invoke prescience. As she touched each canister, she pulled the ones forward that spoke to her.

  She lined up the canisters and from each withdrew the amount that called to her. One by one, she ground them up in her marble mortar using a matching pestle, then added them to her cast iron, brew pot.

  As soon as the recipe was complete, Toby hurried into her spellroom and rubbed around her ankles. The presence of her cat told her she was on the right path.

  With the water boiling and the fragrant steam rising, she felt the room grow even more focused, more centered.

  She bent over the cauldron and closed her eyes. Using both hands, she wafted the steam toward her and let the essence of the brew flow through her nostrils and into her lungs. A faint dizziness assailed her mind.

  She repeated the process several times.

  When the entire room was filled with magic, she turned the flame off. She set a glass measuring cup on the small filling platform, and with a pair of oven mitts and taking great care, she tipped the cauldron to release the brew.

  When the measuring cup held the liquid, she filled her sink with an inch of tepid water and settled the cup in the basin to cool the boiled liquid.

  While she waited for the potion to become drinkable, she gathered bay infused candles and arranged seven of them in an arc at the head of her purple velvet chaise-longue.

  She changed out the tepid water, adding back a much cooler temperature. She did this several times very gradually until the brew was drinkable.

  Pouring the potion into a red ceramic cup, she held it with both hands then moved to the French doors.

  She called to her owl. “Stormy, come in please. I need you with me.” She stepped aside to m
ake room for him through the doorway.

  The owl dipped off the branch and once clear of the leaves flapped his broad wings a few times then glided through the open doors to a perch in the center of the room. Stormy created a layer of protection for Emma as she slowly imbibed the potion designed to enhance her ability to see the future.

  When the red cup was empty, she slid it beneath the chaise-longue. She stretched out and allowed the brew to work within her mind. After a few minutes, she set about casting her spell, invoking words she’d written years ago, calling the future to her.

  She waited.

  But nothing happened.

  She could feel the spell all around her and inside her. But the power she’d experienced in the Graveyard seemed to hover at a significant distance.

  Spreading out her arms, she once more opened herself up to her power.

  But again, it was as though she was stunted in some way she didn’t yet understand.

  She sat up and instinctively knew everything should have worked. She glanced at Toby who eyed her with what she thought was a rather skeptical expression.

  She shifted her gaze to Stormy. “What do you have to say?” The owl rose up once and flapped his wings, then twisted midair to face away from her toward the door leading into the hallway.

  When Toby trotted toward the door as well, she knew her familiars were trying to tell her something.

  She rose to her feet and followed in Toby’s wake.

  He went straight to Vaughn, who now sat in the front living room, ensconced in the large, dark leather chair she’d bought for Max when he’d first moved in. He held his phone in one hand, checking emails, a heavy frown on his brow.

  For some reason, images of making love with him in the dressing room flowed through her mind. Her entire body tingled at the memory and her eyes burned with sudden affection.

  He looked great in Max’s t-shirt and jeans. He was also barefoot, which made her smile. Even sitting down, he looked like a warrior, shoulders broad and the snug dark gray t-shirt conformed to thick pecs. He had strong cheekbones that angled to an equally strong jawline. His nose had a slightly hawkish appearance.