Of Witches and Warlocks
BLOOD OF THE WHITE WITCH
by
Lacey Weatherford
Book Three of the Of Witches and Warlocks series
Copyright 2010 Lacey Weatherford
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published by Global Authors Publications
Smashwords Edition
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DEDICATION:
For my beautiful niece, Larissa Lunt. Without you, your idea, and
your thirst for more, this book would have never existed.
For my muse, and gifted actor, Matt Lanter. Thank you for being
you and helping Vance to come alive in my imagination!
And for “The Vance Gang.” Here’s to world domination!
Chapter 1
This was something very unusual; at least it was for most sixteen-year-old girls.
The fact that I was even getting to experience this now had been the result of a huge compromise on behalf of my parents. They had wanted it to happen at a much later date than this, but the circumstances had changed, and the situation had demanded we change with it. The discussions had been long and arduous, the pros and cons weighed heavily before any type of agreement had been reached. Even then I was pretty sure my mom and dad were still having terrible misgivings, though I could see they were trying to put on a brave face and be supportive for my sake. I appreciated that.
“There,” my best friend Shelly said. She finished what she was doing and stepped back to survey the result. “You look beautiful!”
I turned to look at my reflection in the ceiling-to-floor mirror. I didn’t even recognize myself, but I agreed with her assessment without one ounce of conceit in my heart.
I paused to take everything in. The dress was perfect. The square-cut neckline, the tightly fitted bodice which led down into the full, bejeweled taffeta skirt with a bubble hem complete with a chapel train, looked as if they had been made specifically to enhance every turn and curve of my body.
My long black hair had been piled intricately in becoming swoops and swirls on the top of my head and had tiny pearl pins running throughout the design. A simple pearl-adorned comb had been inserted in the back of my hairdo, and my straight shear veil hung softly from it.
Shelly placed a bouquet of fresh red roses, bunched together and tied with a white satin ribbon, into my hands.
“You’re going to knock Vance’s socks off!” she said, and she looked at me, a soft smile spreading across her face.
“I hope so!” I said with a little laugh, and I thought of my handsome groom, who was undoubtedly doing something similar to this, elsewhere in the building.
We had been through so much together in the last few months. Magic, mystery and mayhem had been a large part of our existence and continued to be so. In fact, it was the reason that this wedding was taking place eight months earlier than planned, but I didn’t want to think about that right now. I just wanted to savor every moment of this day.
“Oh! Portia!” my mom said, and I turned to see her enter the room, her red formal dress suit rustling slightly as she closed the door.
She stopped to look at me, and I saw several emotions pass through her eyes. I could see love and happiness there, right before worry and doubt crept in. I noticed the moisture that began to fill them. She reached a hand up to pat her perfectly coiffed dark hair, trying to hide her reaction.
“Mom, don’t you dare start with that already!” I chastened her. “You’ll get me started, and it’ll ruin my makeup.”
“Sorry, sweetie,” she said with a slight laugh allowing a huge smile to cross her face, and she came closer so she could hug me. “You’re just so beautiful!”
“Thanks, Mom,” I replied, hugging her back for several long moments before leaning back to question her. “Is the photographer here yet? I want to get a picture of the three of us together.”
“Yes. She’s waiting outside. I just wanted to make sure you were ready first,” she said turning back toward the door.
“I’ll get her, Stacey,” Shelly said to my mom, and she rustled past in her dark red satin dress that hugged her flawless form. She looked more to me like a Barbie doll than I had ever seen her before.
The photographer came in and introduced herself politely to me before she posed us together, draping my dress out around me, so she could take a picture of the three of us in front of the giant mirror.
“Beautiful!” she breathed out while her expensive camera clicked away in rapid succession before us. “I just grabbed a couple shots of the groom and his best man before I came in here,” she added when she paused, straightening so she could look at me. “You two are going to make a fabulous looking couple.”
“I want to see the pictures! May I?” I said to her in excitement, moving toward her slightly.
“No!” Shelly said, stepping in between us. “It’s bad luck to see the groom before the wedding. You know that!”
“In a picture?” I asked in a laughing tone as I stared back at her. “I don’t think it applies.”
“It does if he is all dressed in a tuxedo, ready for his wedding!” she replied, folding her arms in front of her chest and giving me a hard look to signify she wasn’t going to budge on the issue.
I looked over at my mom for some backup.
“I agree,” she said with a shrug though she at least tried to look a little bit apologetic.
“Fine!” I said as I waved my hand in dismissal of the subject before looking back at the photographer. “Forget I even asked.”
There was a knock on the door once more, and I heard my dad’s voice call from the other side.
“Is it safe to enter?”
“Come in, Sean,” my mom called back to him.
My dad entered the room wearing a black tuxedo with a dark red tie with a matching vest that had black pinstripes running through it.
“Pumpkin, you look great!” he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw me, and he walked over to place a light kiss upon my cheek.
“You’re working that tux pretty good yourself,” I smiled back at him, thinking he did indeed look very handsome.
He did an overly exaggerated pirouette for us.
“I don’t look too good, do I?” he asked smiling, his humor flashing in his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to show up the bride.”
“Whatever!” my mom said laughingly, and she playfully slapped at his shoulder. “Don’t tease her at such a moment, Sean!”
“Perhaps you’d prefer for me to tease you?” my dad responded, and he sidled up against my mom. “I must say it’s obvious where Portia gets her beauty from.” He grinned wickedly.
There was another slight rap at the door, interrupting their playful banter, and this time the wedding coordinator stepped into the room.
“Are you all ready?” she asked with a smile, and she looked around at each of us. “Everything is set to go.”
I nodded my head, suddenly feeling a wave of butterflies rush through my stomach.
“I’m ready,” I replied and I placed a hand over my midsection, trying to settle them.
“All right,” she said with a nod, turning to my mom. “Let’s go get you seated, shall we? Shelly, you
go wait by the door to the chapel, and I’ll give you the signal. Vance and Brad are already at the altar.”
Shelly picked up her white bouquet of flowers, hurrying after them, leaving only my dad and me together in the quiet space.
“It’s time,” Dad said looking at me seriously now. “Are you sure you’re ready for all this?”
“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” I replied, and I stepped over to take his arm. “The real question is are you ready for all this?” I asked, and I watched his expression carefully.
“It has definitely required some adjusting to,” he replied honestly, and he reached out to gently touch his free hand to my face. “I certainly never imagined my daughter getting married at the age of sixteen or the fact that I’d be agreeing to it. That being said, however, I do realize that the two of you are mature for your age and have proven on several occasions you’re old enough to handle things on your own. I think things will work out just fine.”
“Thanks for having faith in us, Dad.” I smiled, squeezing his arm tenderly, knowing exactly how difficult it had been for him to do so.
“My little girl is all grown up,” he said softly. He looked at me, and I felt his hand tremble against me momentarily before he dropped it back to his side.
He led me gently out of the room and into the hallway. We walked in silence together until we stopped a few feet outside the door to the chapel.
Shelly was standing there in the entrance, and as the music began, she took her cue from the director to begin her march down the aisle.
The doors to the chapel were closed behind her, and the wedding planner ushered me into place, making sure my dress was spread out perfectly behind me and my veil was hanging just right.
I heard the music change and the wedding march begin to play on the other side of the door. I slipped my hand back through my dad’s arm, resting it lightly at his elbow, wondering if he felt my slight nervous tremble as it rested there.
“I love you, Pumpkin,” my dad said, and he lightly patted my hand.
“I love you too, Daddy,” I replied with a smile, and the butterflies reappeared and began to dance anew in my stomach.
The doors moved then, swinging slowly open to reveal the flower-decorated aisle in front of me. I lifted my head, searching for the only thing I was interested in seeing at that moment.
My eyes settled on him, and I saw his breath catch when he saw me and a slow smile spread across his face, lighting the whole world in front of me.
I would have forgotten to move, I was so mesmerized by his appearance, but my dad placed his hand gently on mine and began walking me toward the glorious figure who stood there waiting for me. I couldn’t see anything besides him, only him.
Vance Mangum. My Vance.
My heart began beating harder with every step I took. He was perfectly groomed as usual, with his dark hair textured in the perfect messy style that I loved, his white teeth gleaming against the dimples of his smile, and the slight cleft in his chin. His bright blue eyes fairly flashed with anticipation as he stood in his black tuxedo, complete with a white vest and tie, looking every inch the powerful man he was. He was breathtaking.
He stepped down to greet me as I approached him, taking my trembling hand from my dad and placing it into his, squeezing it reassuringly, before turning to lead me up in front of the minister.
“I love you,” I heard him whisper softly into my head through the uncommon mental connection we shared.
“I love you, too,” I replied back into his mind, broadening my smile and glancing over at him.
The minister moved closer to us and began to speak. I listened intently to every word he spoke, but my gaze never left Vance’s face, nor did his ever leave his perusal of mine.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…,” the minister began, and I felt little shivers of joy race through my body.
He spoke to us about love, commitment, and honor, as well as always being true to each other, before he turned the time over to us to recite our vows to each other.
I went first.
“Vance,” I started, and I felt as if I would never be able to keep my excited tremor out of my voice. “I give my heart to you completely at this time. My love is my gift to you, never shaking, unfailing. I promise to never leave you, to always stand by your side through thick and thin, to be your helper and your companion. I bind myself to you before God and man, promising to always to support you in life and love, even into the next life. I love you,” I said squeezing his hand meaningfully.
Then he spoke.
“Portia, I love you with all my heart. Words fail me in how to describe the depths of my feelings for you. You complete me in every way imaginable; you are everything about me that is good. When I eat, sleep, live, it is always with you in my thoughts. I accept your love and promises, offering mine to you in return. I promise to always love and support you in all your endeavors as we join together as husband and wife. I will love you for eternity.” He smiled at me, and I could feel his emotions surging from his body into mine with great force, causing tiny prickles to run over my skin in a wave of desire.
“Do you, Portia Mullins, take Vance Mangum as your legal and lawful husband?” the minister continued. “Do you promise to love, honor, and care for him from this day forward?”
“Yes,” I replied, my eyes beginning to water as I stared up into Vance’s loving gaze.
He turned to Vance.
“Do you, Vance Mangum, take Portia Mullins as your legal and lawful wife? Do you promise to love, honor, and care for her from this day forward?”
“Yes,” he answered, and I saw the emotion in his eyes equaled mine as small bits of moisture gathered there before me.
“Do you have the rings?” the minister asked.
Brad and Shelly both stepped forward to hand us our rings. I handed my bouquet off to Shelly and turned back toward Vance.
“Portia, place the ring on Vance’s left ring finger and repeat after me,” the minister said.
I took the white gold band and slid it gently over his long, masculine finger still unable to control the slight tremors in my hand.
“With this ring, I thee wed, if front of God and these witnesses,” I repeated after him.
Vance then took the matching ring he held and slid it tenderly up over my finger.
“With this ring, I thee wed, in front of God and these witnesses,” he said as he lifted his gaze from our hands and back to my eyes.
“Let it be known that these two are now joined together in the eyes of God, the eyes of the church, and in the eyes of man. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder. I now pronounce you husband and wife for all intents and purposes.”
Vance didn’t wait for the minister to tell him to kiss his bride, instead grabbing me up in a giant bear hug and kissing me passionately in front of everyone as they burst into cheers and applauding.
I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, not wanting to let go. The kiss went on a lot longer than decorum dictated it should have, but I didn’t mind. Finally, he stepped back from me, leaving both of us breathless, but his eyes didn’t leave me nor did the smile that was spread widely across his face.
“I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Vance Mangum,” the minister said to the crowd as they cheered again when we turned to face them.
Vance took me by the hand in an iron grip and led me back down the aisle, through the chapel and out into the hallway. He didn’t stop there though, and I was surprised when he pulled me quickly into the first room we came to, shutting the door behind us.
He grabbed me then, pulling me flush up against his body and really kissed me, like I knew he had wanted to do out there, letting all of his passion move into that moment. His mouth slanted hard over my mouth, demanding all of mine yet giving all of his in return as he ran his hands up and down over my back.
I closed my eyes and savored the feel of him as he pressed me as close as he could get me, not le
aving a millimeter of space between our bodies, loving every breathless second of his heated assault against me. Little sparks of lightning flashed through me and over my skin as his hot breath mingled together with mine, and I felt the goose bumps that popped out on my skin as a result.
I dropped my bouquet on the floor without a care and wound my arms tightly around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to reach him better, as I became all consumed by his kiss.
For several long heated moments our mouths danced together in an ancient rhythm of love, speaking intimacies to one another that couldn’t be shared with mere words.
“Wow! You look amazing!” he said when we finally stepped back, gasping for some air and his eyes flitted over the entire length of my body. “I’ve never seen anything in my life that looked so good.”
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I replied with a grin while I looked at his lips which had swollen a bit from his impassioned kissing of me.
“I love you,” he said, and he stepped back against me, this time cradling my face gently in both of his hands, running one of his thumbs tenderly over my lips as he stared at me.
“I love you, too.” I smiled looking into his beautiful blue eyes, unable to tear my gaze away from him.
“Dang reception!” he muttered under his breath while he watched my face, and I understood exactly what he meant.
I laughed at his disgruntled expression.
“Patience, love,” I spoke. I placed my hand lightly against his cheek, caressing the hard masculine planes there. “The time will come soon enough, as I am sure you know, but right now we have guests.”
“They can wait,” he said, and he pulled me hard against him once more, kissing me again, trapping me effectively in his iron grasp.
I willingly wound my arms back around his neck and wished we could just run off together right now. Leaning into the kiss, I felt his tongue trace the contours of my lips and I opened my mouth at his request, following him in his sensual movements until I felt his very emotions would consume me as they raced forcefully through my body, setting me on flame as if he had lit a torch of fire to my skin. I never wanted him to stop, but reality stepped forward, intruding once again, and I pulled back from him instead, though he did not let me go willingly.
The Trouble With Spells Page 1