The Wedding Spell

by Donna Fletcher

“Who I am!” she snapped and instantly regretted her sharp response. “I’m sorry—”

  Her aunt interrupted. “No need to apologize, my dear, I can see this plan of yours has encountered some obstacles.”

  “He won’t cooperate,” Ali said, annoyed, and stood, the gold silk robe she wore shimmering around her and falling to cover her bare feet as she nervously paraded back and forth in front of her aunt.

  “I warned you of mortals.”

  Ali stopped, her hands going to her hips. “Well, this mortal is certainly different from the ones I have met through the centuries.”

  “Meanings he is strong, keeps in control of his mind, and won’t let you dictate to him,” a deep rich voice said with a laugh.

  Ali spun around and her eyes lighted with joy. She ran for the outstretched arms of the handsome man standing in the doorway.

  “Dagon!” she shouted cheerfully.

  He caught her up in a huge hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around.

  Once he settled her back on her own two feet, Ali took a step back, though her hands remained firm on his arms. “When did you arrive, and why didn’t you let Aunt Sydney and I know you were coming?”

  “An unexpected business matter brought me to D.C., but that’s unimportant. I want to hear about this mortal male who is causing you such distress.” Dragon cast Ali a suspiciously amusing glance and added, “Or is it you causing the mortal distress?”

  She playfully slapped his arm and sauntered away from him. “I am merely looking to mate.”

  “With a mortal?” he asked incredulously. “You are allowing this, Sydney?”

  “She does have a mind of her own,” Sydney reminded. “Now come give me a proper welcome, dear boy.”

  Ali sighed silently, watching Dagon, her friend since childhood, walk over to her aunt. The man was stunning, heartbreakingly stunning. His tall height, his graceful, fluid strides, his long shiny black hair, his fit body and sensual voice all combined to make him simply...

  Ali laughed quietly. He was simply to-die-for, that was what he was. And then there were those outrageously sexy eyes of his. One look from those dark intense eyes, and a woman was completely lost, swallowed up whole, forever captivated by his compelling spell.

  She had been captivated by them when she was younger, but a strong intuitive sense warned her that he would better serve as a friend than a lover and he had. She and Dagon’s friendship grew to be more like a trusted brother and sister relationship, and she was pleased. Over the years they had often laughed and cried together, and knowing he was always there for her made her feel that much safer and loved.

  Dagon gave Sydney an affectionate kiss and hug and sat beside her on the settee.

  “Tea?” Sydney offered.

  “Yes, please. A cup will do nicely while Ali informs me of this mortal male she has mistakenly thought to mate with.”

  “This is not a mistake,” Ali defended.

  “Dear heart, any witch who mates with a mortal is making a disastrous mistake,” Dagon insisted in that irritatingly arrogant tone that all but announced he knew better.

  Ali had frequently argued a point with him especially where mortals were concerned. Dagon tolerated them, claiming them mindless fools. He repeatedly voiced his opinions that witches belonged with witches and mortals with mortals. To prove his point he constantly made reference to the old witch trials, eagerly reminding that not one genuine witch was executed. Only innocent mortal suffered and by mortal hands.

  Ali defended her decision. “This mortal is different.”

  “How?” he asked, his smile challenging.

  Ali never backed down from a challenge, least of all from another witch.

  “Don’t tell me,” Dagon said before she could respond. “The fool doesn’t believe in witches.”

  Ali sent him a scathing look.

  Dagon laughed. “Dear heart, your energy is much too low to contest me.”

  “Precisely why I need to mate and why I have chosen Sebastian Wainwright.”

  Dagon was out of his seat in a flash, sending the china cup toppling. Sydney saved it from crashing to the floor with a quick cook of her finger. The cup sailed gracefully through the air to land safely on the table.

  “You foolish girl,” he said, his hands going to his slim hips.

  “Woman,” Ali corrected, standing firm and planting her hand on her hips.

  Sydney sipped her tea and watched the delightful antics of the two witches as she so often had done through the years.

  “A woman who lacks a lick of intelligence. Sebastian Wainwright has an impeccable reputation. How long do you think it will take a man of his talents to piece together the true history of the Wyrrds?”

  “He will be mine before then,” she said confidently.

  “Yours?” he said turning to Sydney. “She intends to keep him?”

  Sydney looked just as surprised. “Is this true, Alisande? I thought he was only to be a lover, not permanent.”

  Ali hesitated, fighting with her emotions and her reluctance to admit the truth. They wouldn’t understand; she didn’t understand it herself. “My lover until I say otherwise.”

  Dagon and Sydney glared at her.

  “I know you all too well, Ali, and you don’t sound as though you are certain of your intentions,” Dagon said, shooting her a sharp look from those intense eyes that warned her he knew she was up to something.

  “I agree,” Sydney said, adding her concern.

  Ali shrugged, skirting the real issue and focusing simply on the response. “I find I enjoy his company, and I wish to keep him around for a while.”

  “Then don’t mate with him,” Dagon advised candidly. “For without a doubt if you do and your powers return full force, he will never be able to cope with your magical abilities. Have your fun, play your games, torment if you so please, but in the end find yourself a witch for mating.”

  “I want Sebastian, and I’m old enough to make my own decision,” Ali insisted, a bit more sharply than intended.

  “Even if that decision will cause you heartbreaking pain?” Dagon asked gently.

  Ali felt the fight go out of her. She cupped Dagon’s face in her hands. “Haven’t some of your choices caused you pain?”

  He sighed. “When did you grow so wise and yet remain so foolish?”

  Her reply resounded with the truth of the matter. “When I saw a picture of Sebastian Wainwright. His eyes told me all I needed to know about him.”

  Dagon took Ali’s hands in his and turned to Sydney. “Will he hurt her heart?”

  “This is not for me to say; I can offer guidance only.”

  “You have the sight, you know,” Dagon said.

  “And you are well aware that with sight comes responsibility. Only Ali can decide her fate: the choice is hers. She decides what will be. I offer guidance if asked.”

  “Fine, then guide,” he said. “Tell her she makes a mistake. The mortal will break her heart.”

  “I have expressed my concern; the rest is up to her.”

  Dagon looked at Ali. “And still you intend on pursuing this mortal?”

  “Vigorously,” Ali said with a grin.

  “And when he breaks your heart?”

  “I will come crying to you, Dagon,” she said and kissed him gently on the cheek.

  Dagon stepped back from her, executed a perfect bow, and announced dramatically. “And then m’lady, I will slay the beast for you.”

  Ali curtsied, the gold robe shimmering in the wake of her graceful dip. “Thank you, kind sir.”

  They smiled, recalling the past and all the imaginary beasts Dagon had pretended to slay for her and all her tears he had wiped away. This time, however, was different. Sebastian was real, and if he hurt Ali, made her cry, she knew Dagon would see that Sebastian suffered.

  Sebastian is a good mortal,” she said, needing Dagon to know the truth about this mortal of hers.

  “Let us hope so, dear heart.”

&nb
sp; “I think lunch is just about ready,” Sydney said, standing. “You will join us, Dagon.”

  Dagon extended his arm to Sydney. “Always the diplomat.”

  “Not an easy task with you two,” Sydney reminded.

  “I take exception to that,” Ali said, following behind the pair as they strolled out of the solarium.

  “But of course, my dear, you take exception to almost everything,” Sydney said with a laugh.

  “You’re right about that,” Dagon agreed.

  “And you’re right about everything,” Sydney said teasingly.

  “Now wait a minute,” Dagon argued.

  “When she’s right, she’s right,” Ali said, hooking her arm with Dagon’s free one and smiling.

  o0o

  Sebastian sat in the large conference room, his mind anywhere but on the meeting. His development staff was detailing the results of some new high-tech equipment that had been installed a few months ago. If it proved successful it would be a big boon to Wainwright Security.

  The video surveillance equipment was undetectable and microscopic in size, making concealing possibilities mind-blogging.

  “That’s the only glitch, and for the life of me I don’t know what happened,” Bert Simmons, the project engineer, said. “We picked her up entering the building, but right after that she disappeared. We can’t pick up an image of her anywhere in the building following her entrance, and none of the security guards recall ever seeing her.”

  Sebastian’s interest suddenly piqued.

  “Out of video range,” Herb Walters, project assistant, suggested, jotting down notes in his laptop.

  Bert shook his head. “The cameras are strategically placed to cover the entire front entrance of the building, scanning all areas right up to the elevators. Nobody enters Wainwright Security or leaves without being caught on video.”

  “So how do you explain the blonde’s vanishing act?” Ann Davis, engineer consultant, asked.

  “Magic?” Herb suggested with a laugh.

  Sebastian remained silent, carefully listening to the exchange. He had not bothered to view the videotapes the day Alisande had entered the building and his life. He had foolishly disregarded the tape’s value, but hearing this changed his mind.

  “When did the video camera first pick her up and when did it lose her?” Sebastian asked.

  Bert answered his boss. “As soon as she entered the building. We have a good shot of her as she approaches the reception desk and the next thing you know—poof—she’s gone.”

  “Like magic,” Herb offered once again with a teasing smile.

  “Not funny,” Sebastian snapped, and the room grew silent instantly. “We are a high-tech security company with an impeccable reputation. How do you think this will look to our clients, not to mention our competitors?”

  “Maybe she’s a spy for one of our rival companies,” Ann said.

  Bert shook his head again. “No, research checked her out. Alisande Wyrrd, Wyrrd Foundation, mega money. We assume she was here to speak with Mr. Wainwright regarding the foundation’s work.”

  “Did she have an appointment?” Ann asked.

  “No,” Bert said, “but it’s common knowledge that she and her aunt drop in on important people unexpectedly and always walk away with hefty donations.”

  All three pairs of eyes settled on Sebastian.

  “Why she was here is unimportant,” he said firmly. “How she managed to gain access to my private office and leave without a trace is extremely important.”

  “It’s the equipment,” Herb said in disgust.

  “But we triple-checked everything,” Bert argued, “And we can’t find anything wrong. And since the incident we haven’t had a single problem.”

  “Check it again,” Sebastian ordered.

  Bert nodded. “Fine, but I —”

  “Just do it,” Sebastian said. “If you find nothing once more, we’ll continue to run the equipment here for a few months; if no problems surface we’ll go with it.”

  Bert smiled, relieved and pleased by the decision, and they all stood to leave.

  “Bert, a word with you,” Sebastian directed as the other two left the conference room.

  Bert remained standing beside his chair as Sebastian approached him. While Bert wasn’t a short man, standing almost six feet with his shoes on, he always felt short next to his boss. The man simply exuded confidence and power, and he intimidated in the most unobtrusive ways.”

  “Do you have the surveillance disc with you?”

  Bert detected a hint of annoyance. “Yes, I do.” He slipped it out of his briefcase and handed it to Sebastian.”

  “I’ll make certain this is returned to you.”

  “No problem, I made copies. “And with a polite nod Bert turned to leave.

  “Bert.”

  The man halted midstride and turned around, his nerves causing a fine film of perspiration to break out on his upper lip.

  “You’ve done exceptional work on this project. I want you to know how much it is appreciated, and of course it will be reflected in your pay.”

  Bert left with a smile of satisfaction.

  Sebastian went directly from the conference room to his private office across the hall, instructing Ms. Smithers he was not to be interrupted.

  He inserted the disc into his laptop and sat in his chair staring intently at the screen as he clicked to start. Ali appeared on the screen and he smiled, admiring the sensual sway of her hips and the swell of her full breasts that peeked out from the white silk jacket.

  He watched as another camera picked her up from a different angle. The white silk skirt hugged her firm backside and accented her slim legs, and his emotions rebelled. All he could think about was her naked in his arms, the soft and gentle feel of her against his hardness, and the sweet liquid taste of her on his lips.

  While his lustful thoughts ran rampart, his practical eye caught her hand movement. He shifted his mental focus with difficulty and replayed the section.

  Her hand dipped into her jacket pocket, she withdrew it with a flourish, and if he hadn’t looked quickly enough he would have missed the glittering specks that descended down around her. Then in the next instant she vanished.

  He replayed the disc again and again. What had she done? What had she concealed in her pocket that she used to remove or block her image from the camera?

  Whatever it was he intended to find out and confront her.

  Magic?

  He shook the ridiculous thought away and laughed. “Fairy dust, she’d probably tell me.”

  Then he recalled a passage from one of the books he had read on witchcraft.

  Fairies conceal themselves from human eyes with sun dust. The early morning dew is dried by the sun and turned into dust which the fairies gather and use as protection against prying eyes. A small sprinkle will render a human incapable of seeing the fairies. A larger amount will cause the human to completely forget that they even exist.

  Sebastian shook his head again. Was he going crazy? Fairy dust? Absurd. Ridiculous. Possible?

  Her words replayed in his head.

  I simply adored playing and learning with the fairies in the woods.

  He refused to shake his head again. He refused to believe such utter nonsense. He was a practical and sensible man, and he would use his intelligence to solve this puzzle.

  And when he did?

  Suddenly there was no doubt in his mind. He would take Alisande to his bed and make love to her, but not, absolutely not, until he discovered the truth about her.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Were you ever truly in love, Aunt Sydney?” Alisande asked, stretching out on the clear plastic raft that drifted aimlessly in the pool.

  Sydney sat poolside sipping raspberry iced tea and enjoying the scones Adele had freshly baked. “Several times.”

  Ali dipped her fingers into the cool water, sprinkling the refreshing liquid over her bare midriff. She wore a striking yellow bikini that c
overed and curved in all the right places.

  “No, true love can be but one love,” Ali said with a soft sigh.

  Sydney smiled knowingly. “And why is that?”

  “Simply because you can only truly give your heart once.”

  “I have loved many times over the years, my dear.”

  “I have no doubt you have,” Ali said, “but truthfully how often have you given your heart?”

  “Once, my dear,” Sydney answered softly.

  Ali cast her aunt an inquisitive glance. “True love?”

  “Yes,” Sydney said with tears tempting her eyes.

  “Tell me about him.”

  Sydney reached for her glass of iced tea. “Some memories are better left as just that... memories.”

  Ali knew better than to pry, though she would have loved to have heard about the man who had once captured her aunt’s heart.

  “Why do you ask about love, Alisande? You know the difficulties of losing your heart to a mortal.”

  “Yes, all too well,” Ali said irritated. “Mother, among others of our kind, drummed the fact into my head that mortals do not fully understand the true meaning of love and therefore they are not capable of maintaining the cherished emotion.”

  “Well, at least you paid attention to their wisdom and advice,” her aunt said, “but do you intend to take heed?”

  Ali slipped off the raft and swam in measured strokes to the steps. She walked up and out of the pool slowly, as if her response weighted heavily on her mind. “You agree then that mortals fail to fully comprehend the true meaning of love?”

  Sydney offered her a large white terry cloth towel. “Love is an easy emotion to define, yet humans cannot seem to grasp its simplicity. They dissect it, debate it, fight over it, but understand it? I think not.”

  Ali patted herself dry. “So what you’re saying is that a mortal can never experience the depths of love that we do?”

  Sydney reached out for her niece’s hand and took hold. “Do these questions pertain to your involvement with a mortal male?”

  Ali lowered herself to the chaise beside her aunt. “I thought this would be so simple. Introduce myself to him, explain my need, and let nature take its course. And yet Sebastian refuses to cooperate.”