Witch Tease

by Cindy Keen Reynders

  She had no doubt he would forget all about her once they parted. Or at least pretend he wasn’t affected by their time together. While she wished him nothing but the best, she hated the idea she may eventually fade from his heart.

  Lizzie stared ahead, doing her best to concentrate. Rescuing her coven was the most important thing right now. She and Kincaid’s encounter, and the love they had shared, wouldn’t matter once things returned to normal.

  Somehow, she needed to stop herself from wanting him.

  ***

  Will this agony never end?

  Kincaid felt Lizzie’s presence in every ounce of his being. Like a glorious flower with a backbone of steel, she sat next to him on her mount, her expression solemn.

  His gut squeezed with remorse. Had she finally given up on the two of them staying together? She might as well, he decided. Once they had rescued her coven, they would part. It was for the best. A dark mood descended on him, and he pressed his lips into a firm, unrelenting line.

  The sure-footed tonafers plodded along the rocky trail, their steady gait moving them forward. Wilderness enfolded the area and it echoed with a quiet solitude, broken only by the sound of a gentle breeze and the call of birds winging overhead. Kincaid noted how the greenery thinned the higher they climbed.

  Soon the area offered a desolate, but ruggedly beautiful view. Kincaid’s gaze came to rest often on Lizzie, then he would look away, not wanting her to know how she drew his attention. Sons of Lugus, how he longed to hold her in his arms.

  Even though the breeze sent whiffs of loamy smells and tonafer stink to his senses, he easily picked up on her sweet scent. Everything about Lizzie fascinated him. He wanted to rescue her coven, yet he loathed the idea of leaving her when he’d completed his mission.

  A sour taste filled his mouth. He turned and spat on the ground, hoping to rid his mouth of the unsavory flavor.

  It didn’t help.

  When the sun reached its zenith, Kincaid decided it was time for them to rest the animals.

  “The tonafers need attention,” he said, guiding his hairy beast off the trail.

  “Good idea,” Lizzie agreed.

  He rode toward a shaded area where boulders sat like silent monoliths. After he and Lizzie dismounted, he led the tonafers over to a trickling creek. As they waded into the water and began slurping, he tethered their reins to a leafy bush.

  Studying the swirling movement of the water, he stretched to relieve his cramped muscles. Unaccustomed to riding for so long, it seemed every part of him ached. Then he glanced at Lizzie, noting her grim expression. He imagined she suffered the same muscular discomfort.

  A groan escaped her as she dismounted. He strode over and placed his hands around her waist. For some reason, he allowed her body to brush against his as he lowered her to the ground.

  Lizzie’s questioning gaze met his and she trembled. When her breasts met his chest, desire rushed through him. Inwardly, he cursed himself. He must certainly be a glutton for punishment.

  Why else would he do this?

  For a few seconds, they stared at each other. Kincaid’s mouth went dry and he longed to draw her closer. He wanted to pull her into his embrace and never let go. He must be going crazy to behave so irrationally.

  Yet he could feel the tension coiled in her body. It seemed like she, too, wanted to let go of her reservations and melt into him. Nevertheless, she held back.

  Kincaid realized they needed to stay one in purpose and mind, but anything sexual would be taboo. They would both regret it. Damn his traitorous heart for wanting her. Fortunately, his conscience saved him from doing something foolish. Reluctantly, he released Lizzie.

  She moved away from him, disappointment etched on her face. Brushing off her slacks and clothing, she asked, “What can I do to help?”

  Kincaid walked over to one of the tonafers, rooted around in a leather saddle bag and withdrew a bundle wrapped in checkered cloth. “This is the lunch the village women packed for us.”

  “I’ll set it out,” she said, appearing anxious to make herself busy.

  As she placed the fare on a flat rock, Kincaid checked on the tonafers. They had climbed up a grassy bank and now stood side-by-side, munching on grass. Assured the beasts were fine, he sat cross-legged next to Lizzie and began to partake of the Faery food.

  The meal consisted of small round cakes that looked as though they were made from cornmeal and dried meat. Pink berries that tasted like raspberries and goat cheese completed the repast.

  He darted glances at Lizzie as she paced back and forth, eating her lunch. “Relax, lass.”

  “I’ve been sitting for too long. I need to move around.”

  “Suit yourself.” He reached for the flask of honeyed wine and drank. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he told Lizzie, “The wine is refreshing. Try it.”

  “Not if it affects me like the ale.”

  He laughed. “Gilgam told me the villagers make it from fona grapes. It’s a Faery specialty, and the recipe is closely guarded. The wee bit of alcohol in it won’t hurt you.”

  He held up the flask.

  Lizzie stopped pacing and took a drink. “By the Goddess, it is tasty.”

  Kincaid stood and she returned the flask to him. As their fingers touched, sizzling heat shot through his hand and up his arm.

  Lizzie blinked with surprise, as though she felt it too.

  “Lizzie, I want you to know—”

  She held up a hand and began backing away. “D-don’t say anything. Please.”

  Kincaid focused on her swaying backside as she walked behind a boulder.

  “Idiot,” Kincaid berated himself as he tossed a couple of berries in his mouth. What would he have said to Lizzie, anyway? He needed to stay focused. He walked over to check on the tonafers, then began pacing on the creek bank. The soothing sound of water trickling over rocks offered a quiet respite from his troubled thoughts.

  A woman’s scream interrupted the silence.

  “Lizzie!” Kincaid shouted as he ran around the boulder.

  Riddled with primal urges, he felt his body begin its transformation into wolf form. Quickly, he shed his clothing. Blood pounded through the veins in his body, releasing a massive surge of adrenaline. His legs and arms began to bulge with the animal’s shape, and his mind throbbed with only one thought.

  Save her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Holy witch’s teeth!

  Covered in dark brown fur tipped with silver, a massive creature that looked like a grizzly bear towered over Lizzie. Standing upright on hind legs, it swept a massive paw at her. She jumped aside, just in time to avoid being raked by its huge claws.

  Her feet and legs felt heavy as she slowly moved backward. Horror gripped her heart. Gasping breaths caught in her throat, and a dull roar thudded in her ears.

  Nature spirits, guide this creature away from me.

  She cursed herself for wandering off just to avoid Kincaid. It had been childish. And now she was in a real pickle.

  As she listened to the bear’s low, warning growls, pitiful whimpering reached her ears. When bushes rustled, a smaller version of the creature scampered from the shrubbery.

  It’s a mama bear! No wonder she felt threatened.

  Afraid to look anywhere else but at the fearsome animal and its baby, she appealed once more for help. In a shaking voice, she said, “Peace with creatures of the wild, oh Diana, Goddess of the hunt. Impart to this mother bear and her baby I mean no harm.”

  She raised her hands, hoping she could conjure at least a bit of magic. So far, she hadn’t been successful using her abilities in the Land of the Fae. To her relief, a shower of light poured down from the sky, surrounding the animals in golden brilliance tinged with green sparkles.

  Mama bear stopped snarling, lowered to the ground, and began to nuzzle its offspring. While they were occupied, Lizzie began to back away, intending to slip back into the bushes and return to camp. When her foot scraped against
something hard, she turned to see she’d reached a cliff.

  Instinctively, she pressed a hand against a boulder to try and regain her balance, but the soft shale crumbled. She slid down the rocky slope, slamming her head and rolling over thorny bushes.

  Pebbles and sharp sticks scraped her palms. Digging her heels against the dirt helped, and she managed to slow down.

  “Balteus baltijaz,” she commanded, hoping once again she’d be able to conjure a small amount of magic.

  The sturdy silver and black belt slipped from her waist and flew toward her hands. As she scrambled past a tree stump, she looped the leather strap around it. That did the trick, and she came to a stop in a flurry of choking dust. Bloody and aching, scraped raw in many places, she moaned.

  Standing unsteadily, she leaned back against the cliff. She clenched her hands to stop them from trembling. After lacing her belt back around her waist, she glanced down at the steep canyon, realizing how close she’d come to getting splattered like a ripe tomato.

  A wolf’s howl echoed through the airy heights. Kincaid. Looking up, she saw a familiar wolf staring over the cliff edge, whining and pawing the ground.

  “Great,” she called up to him. “I’m going to need a hand, not a paw, to get out of this jam.”

  The wolf gave a low whine, then disappeared. A few minutes later, Kincaid in his human form leaned over the cliff.

  Wearing only his slacks and boots, he said, “Aye, you’ve got yourself in a real mess, haven’t you, lass?”

  “To say the least.”

  She glanced down at the canyon again, realizing a fall that far would have meant certain death. Then she noticed Kincaid angling toward her on a thick twisted cord of hemp-like material. Once his feet touched the ledge, he reached out and pulled her against his chest. Concern shone in his eyes as he looked her over, wincing at her scrapes and bruises.

  He stroked the side of her face with his thumb. “It’s amazin’ that scabby braknoor bear didn’t rip you in two.”

  “The gods heard my pleas for help and kept her calm,” Lizzie said as a chill swept through her. “Then like a klutz, I stumbled, and over the cliff I went.”

  “You’re lucky you did’na wind up at the bottom of the canyon.”

  “No doubt. Did you see what happened to the bears?”

  “They wandered off somewhere, probably to find berries.” He shook his head. “You nearly died, but you’re worried about the creatures?”

  The note of surprise in Kincaid’s voice made Lizzie smile. “This is their territory and the bear was only protecting its baby.”

  “Sure, and you’re a wonder, Lizzie Rose.”

  Lizzie started to laugh, then when pain stabbed her abdomen, she winced.

  “What’s wrong?” Kincaid’s brows drew together.

  “I must have bruised a few ribs,” she said, patting her side.

  “Do you think you can stand the jostling as I get you back up?”

  “I’ll have to,” she said, touched by his concern. “Unless I can manage to conjure up a flying spell.”

  “Last time you tried you did’na have much luck,” he reminded her.

  “There are disadvantages to witches relying on brooms,” she said. “We forget how to fly on our own.”

  He wrapped the rope tightly around the both of them and held her in his sturdy embrace. “Keep a grip on me,” he instructed. “Doo’na let go.”

  “I won’t,” she said.

  Kincaid began to carefully climb up the cliff’s crumbling dirt sides. Unfortunately, his movements jostled Lizzie. Pain ricocheted through her body and she groaned.

  “Hang on, lass.”

  “I’m…I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Parts of her body that she didn’t know existed began to ache. Black unconsciousness threatened, but she refused to pass out.

  ***

  Kincaid knew Lizzie was in bad shape. Every time she tensed, he realized she was riddled with pain. Inch by inch, he made his way to the top of the cliff. Sweaty from exertion, he helped Lizzie over the edge and settled on the ground next to her.

  He cradled Lizzie’s trembling form in his arms. She clung to him, no doubt realizing how close she’d come to dying.

  He buried his face in her ebony curls and inhaled, reassuring himself she rested safe in his arms. A wave of thankfulness washed over him.

  It had been one thing to walk away from her all those years ago when she’d been vibrant with health. At least he’d felt safe in the knowledge that he left her unharmed. Over the years he’d been able to imagine her leading a full, happy existence, albeit without him.

  However, to have her injured on his watch sent a horrible ache through his soul. He lifted Lizzie’s chin and searched her eyes. Pain, anxiety, and love resided in the depths. He cursed silently. No good could come of their attachment to each other.

  Or could it?

  Curse the fates who had introduced them to each other, then bestowed them with such different backgrounds. Maybe they ought to at least try to overcome their differences. Perhaps they should at least try. Hope brightened his glum predictions for the two of them.

  “Kincaid, th-thank you. I, I…”

  “Shhh,” he murmured, then pecked her cheek.

  He inspected the scrapes on her face and arms. “Gilgam packed a supply of dried nicorish roots. When we get back to camp, I’ll use it to make some poultices for your wounds.”

  “That’ll take too much time.”

  “We’ll stop for the night.”

  “No!” She scrambled to her feet, brushing aside the ropes still attached to her waist. She blinked several times, then began to sway.

  Kincaid stood and gripped her elbow. “You’re not traipsing anywhere, lass. You’re in no condition to travel.”

  Lizzie’s face crumbled. “But—”

  “Remember, time here is different. ’Tis only a wee spec of time we’ve been gone from Wysteria. Minutes, perhaps.”

  Lizzie glanced at the sun. “I refuse to waste good daylight”

  “Stubborn lass,” Kincaid growled as he swept Lizzie into his arms.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Carryin’ you back to camp. I insist you rest for a wee bit.”

  “I can walk,” she protested, pushing against his chest.

  “Save your energy.” Ignoring her complaints, he carried her through the shrubbery and brambles. At last she settled down and leaned against him.

  Back at their campsite, the tonafers tossed their heads and bleated at them. Then they returned their attention to their grassy meals. A dodo bird screeched and flew back and forth between bush branches, landing on one that seemed to give it a better view of what they were doing.

  Kincaid put Lizzie down on a bed of grass.

  “I’ll prepare the herbs,” he said.

  “But—”

  He lifted a brow. “You may have insisted on coming with me, but I’m still in charge.”

  She nodded.

  Kincaid located the clothing he’d tossed aside in his hurry to find Lizzie. After putting it back on, he started a fire. Retrieving a grate from one of the tonafer’s packs, he placed it over the flames. Then he rooted around in the packs and found a kettle, which he filled with stream water and set it to boil. Then he crumbled nicorish herbs into the bubbling liquid.

  While the brew steeped, he turned to watch Lizzie. As she picked leaves and sticks out of her hair, he appreciated her beauty once again. He recalled the delights her body offered when they were making love. An ache spread through his loins and he swore.

  Control your thoughts, man.

  Frowning, he doused a checkered cloth napkin from their lunch in the nicorish brew. Then he strode toward Lizzie.

  “Here we are, lass,” he said softly as he studied the shiny lump that had begun to swell near her right eyebrow.

  “You needn’t fuss over me.”

  “This isn’t negotiab
le,” he insisted. “You won’t do your coven any damn good if your wounds get infected.”

  “I can tell I’ve lost this battle.” She finally relented.

  ***

  Lizzie scooted over as Kincaid sat down next to her and gently sponged her wounds. At first the potion stung, then slowly it began to ease her pain. Her heart thumped against her ribs and warmth spread through her belly. Despite her discomfort, she found it fascinating to see this tender side of Kincaid.

  As he ministered to her, her thoughts swirled. Sweet witch’s teeth, how did he always manage to unhinge every inhibition in her bones?

  She studied the firm set of his jaw and noted how his eyes glimmered with obvious concern. Bittersweet emotion nearly overcame her, followed by uneasiness.

  “What’s wrong?” He tilted his head to the side.

  “Nothing.”

  He began kneading the knotted muscles in her back. “I won’t hurt you, lass.”

  “I know you wouldn’t intend to,” she returned.

  One of his brows shot up. “It’s just a massage.”

  “Is it?”

  He stopped massaging and returned to pressing the herb-soaked cloth against her wounds. The look on his face told Lizzie he was insulted.

  How mean and spiteful can I be?

  She had to let go of the past. She tried to concentrate on anything but Kincaid and what he made her feel inside. She didn’t dare trust her heart with him again. Ever. She’d already gotten too close.

  An ache wound through her, more painful than any flesh wound. Only the gods knew why Kincaid came back into her life, resurrecting her love for him.

  Remember, the two of you need to remain in harmony in order to secure Uaithne.

  Lizzie pushed her concerns about Kincaid to the back of her mind. They had to remain one in purpose. When he pressed the napkin against a scrape, and her abused skin radiated with raw pain, she winced.