Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble, a Paranormal Romance

by H. P. Mallory

  I wanted to tell him that nothing had happened, that we’d just slept in the same bed, but I knew I couldn’t. Besides, my love life was none of his concern. Let him think Trent and I had had sex, maybe it might even be the impetus we both needed to truly consider one another as only employee and employer.

  “I see,” he said, clearing his throat. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

  I hazarded a glance at Trent and he wore his smugness as if it were the newest in men’s cologne. His arrogance irritated me, and I dropped my gaze to the ground, not especially thrilled with meeting the ire in Rand’s face either.

  “I’m alright, Rand. The wolf was after Trent, not me,” I said apologetically, realizing that I wasn’t apologizing so much for the fact that Rand had found my blouse, but more so, for the situation. Then I chided myself for acting in the least bit repentant. I didn’t owe Rand any sorf apology.

  “Then why did you have to shape shift?” he asked with tight lips.

  “The wolf was after me, as she said,” Trent answered and Rand’s body was tight. “But upon seeing our little witch here, I imagine he decided it’d make Bella extra proud if he brought her back as well.”

  Trent draped a casual arm around me, and I instinctively leaned further away. Rand flinched at the mention of me as their “little witch,” but didn’t miss a beat before he was on to his next question.

  “And the wolf? Is it dead?” His gaze rested on me even though Trent had assumed the role of responder.

  “No, Trent let him get away,” I said and shrugged out of Trent’s hold, grabbing Plum as she lazily walked past Rand. The cat was so surprised, she didn’t even get the chance to meow in resistance.

  The purple in Rand’s aura had now usurped the blue.

  “You bloody well let him get away?” he repeated, and by the tone of his voice, I supposed letting the wolf go hadn’t been what he wanted to hear.

  “Now he’ll return to Bella and tell her where Jolie lives.”

  Trent took a seat on the arm of the sofa, one side of his mouth quirked in a smile like he thought he was Elvis or something.

  “I wanted the wolf to deliver a message—if he comes after me or Jolie again, I’ll come after Bella.”

  Apparently, Trent thought that was a good rebuttal as he wore a certain defiance that stretched from his narrowed eyes to his crossed arms. It sounded dumb to me. I figured it sounded really dumb to Rand.

  Rand laughed, and the laugh said that Trent was a dumbass by all measures.

  “You could never defeat Bella, she’s too strong for you. What a foolish…”

  Before this became wolf vs. warlock, I thought I should intervene.

  “It’s done, Rand, and Bella would’ve found out where we were inevitably. You said so yourself.”

  “I didn’t imagine it would be this quick,” he snapped and then paused before turning toward me. “Jolie, may I have a word with you please?” His gaze returned to the barely-clad Trent. “In private?”

  “Whatever you have to say to her, you can say in front of me. She’s my woman,” Trent answered in a constricted tone, his face taking on a reddish hue. The cat started complaining, probably because I was holding her too tight, but I made no motion to release her. My thoughts were still trying to digest what Trent had just said. His woman? It reminded me of something Tarzan would say.

  After the initial shock wore away, I was left to ponder it. We’d never discussed our relationship. I guess it made sense though—we’d only been dating each other—well, again, that was a guess. I’d only been dating him and hoped he wasn’t dating anyone else. Maybe I was his woman? His Jane?

  The news didn’t sit well with Rand who, at this point, was fuming, his ears beet red. The cat continued to undulate in my arms, but I paid her no heed.

  “For Christ’s sake, let the bloody cat go!” Rand all but yelled.

  Shocked, I put the cat down, and she retreated to the far corner of the room, looking at me like I was the worst of pet owners. Rand’s murderous gaze returned to Trent.

  “Regardless of what she is to you, she is first and foremost my employee, and our business doesn’t involve you.”

  Before Trent had the opportunity for rebuttal, I stepped between the two of them and faced Trent.

  “I’ll just be a second. If it’s work related, it’s important.”

  Even though he didn’t look happy about it, he nodded, his eyes never leaving Rand’s. I took Rand’s hand—more so to remove him from my house than as a show of affection. I led him back outside where the rain had begun to let up and now just bathed the ground in a light dew.

  “Did you have to be so rude?” I asked as soon as we were alone.

  “Rude? I wasn’t being rude. I was concerned for your safety and…”

  “Well, regardless, you weren’t friendly,” I interrupted, wrapping my arms around myself. England was damn cold.

  “And what the hell were you doing traipsing through the forest in the rain anyway?”

  The anger melted out of his gaze and was replaced with a cold embarrassment as he seemed to struggle to find an excuse.

  “I was taking a walk.”

  I shook my head as a smile played with my lips. “In the middle of the pouring rain? I’ve never seen you take a walk before…”

  “Yes, I decided to get some fresh air!” He interrupted, and his voice was back to being angry—I guessed he wasn’t comfortable with the fact that I could see through his alibi like a pair of shorts with a hole.

  “Okay, okay.”

  Rand looked like he was about to argue, but then thought better of it and swallowed the sentiment.

  “It’s true what he said—that you’re…his?”

  Ah yes, that meant he caught on to the “Me Tarzan, you my woman” conversation. It was a good question and one I hadn’t really decided myself. It would’ve been nice had Trent consulted me, but I guess I didn’t object to being his girlfriend, or his woman as the case may be.

  “Well, I guess so, I mean we never talked about it, but I guess it’s true.”

  Rand was quiet for a moment, and then his expression turned into one a librarian would give a noisy child.

  “Then you have disregarded my advice that the wolf can’t be trusted. He’s bloody well put your life in jeopardy…”

  “Bella would’ve come after me anyway,” I muttered even though I doubted the intelligence of Trent’s actions, myself.

  “Jolie,” he looked away, and his jaw was tight. He faced me again, and I could tell it was taking his entire wherewithal not to scream at me.

  “Sometimes you are so stubborn.”

  I laughed, but it was a hollow and caustic sound.

  “I’m stubborn? You, Rand, are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

  He sighed in what I figured was frustration.

  “There’s no use arguing with you. I hope you just keep your eyes open and don’t trust him.” When it appeared I was going to bicker with him, he intercepted.

  “Anyway, I’m sorry I disturbed you as I didn’t think you had company.”

  He turned on his heel and started to walk away. I was about to call after him, to attempt to reconcile any damage I’d done, but I realized it was fruitless. I needed to let Rand go. He needed to know I was with someone else. But watching him walk down the driveway, I didn’t feel especially good about my decision.

  #

  One week later and it seemed Bella’s preparations for a unionized front of otherworldly creatures was coming down to the wire. Now, it wasn’t just werewolves who were seeking refuge in England—a multitude of creatures sought haven in the neutrality of Europe.

  Every time I turned around, I heard news of a new pack of wolves or a group of vampires—a gaggle of vampires?—making their home in Rand’s territory. The fairies still kept to themselves, playing it as neutral as Switzerland, and I hadn’t learned of any demons who were heading this way.

  Trent and I sat across from two werewolves wh
o’d escaped from the U.S. to join ranks with Trent. In a matter of days, Trent’s pack had tripled in size. While the new numbers had pleased him to no end, I hadn’t been as excited. My time with Trent was rare enough as it was, and now he was so busy, I felt like I didn’t even have a boyfriend.

  The two wolves with whom we were having dinner were old friends of Trent’s, from a pack he’d known since childhood. They were a brother and sister, Jeffrey and Anne, both dark in hair and eyes and nice looking. Anne had a heart shaped face with a bit of a wide nose and large looming eyes. Her dark hair fell down to her waist and like most wolves, it was thick and luxurious. Jeffrey also shared the same thick and dark hair and though his wasn’t quite as long as his sister’s, it still graced his shoulders and required a band to keep it out of his face.

  From the look of it, Anne seemed to be harboring quite the affection for Trent—it was there in the way she watched him with her doe eyes and hoshe giggled after everything he said, funny or not. I wasn’t jealous, maybe a little bit, but only by the fact that she knew him far better than I did. That and she was spending a lot more time with him than I was. Of course, it was all in the name of building a solid pack, but still…I didn’t have to like it.

  “How many more wolves are migrating over?” I asked as I sipped my drink, feigning interest in the conversation. My mind was swimming with thoughts more along the line of this woman, her relationship with Trent and exactly how well acquainted she was with him.

  Trent faced me, and his hand went to my thigh, squeezing it.

  Take that werewolf girl, I thought, and then got annoyed with myself for being so petty.

  “We have no way of knowing until they get here, but it seems they’re either siding with Bella or seeking refuge here. There’s no in between,” Jeffrey said.

  “Meanwhile the Lurkers have struck again,” Trent said with a frown.

  I watched a fire ignite behind Anne’s eyes as she watched him. I would’ve bet fifty bucks she had no idea what he’d just said. I could almost read her thoughts and they all centered around what a catch Trent was, now that he was leader of a very large pack.

  “They were the group of humans sworn to destroy all creatures of the Underworld?” I asked, forcing my eyes from Anne, lest she notice the anger that sparked in their depths.

  Trent nodded, his arm going around my shoulders.

  “Great, more good news,” I muttered, playing with the ice in my glass.

  “Where?” Jeffrey asked, ignoring my comment.

  “Arizona. They killed two vampires,” Anne finished. Wow, so she had been paying attention. I guess I’d have to eat humble pie.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea to separate ourselves from Bella’s forces when there seems to be a larger threat looming above us?” I asked. Even though I didn’t have the warm fuzzies about Bella and recognized her for the witch (ha ha) she was, it seemed a dangerous proposition to separate ourselves when the Lurkers could attack again at any time. We would be much stronger as a collective force.

  “Of course it isn’t the best situation, but we don’t have an alternative. Bella’s made her intentions clear and she’s playing by her rules. We’ll have to face her and then the Lurkers,” Jeffrey said.

  Luckily, it seemed the Lurkers weren’t organized in their attacks. They were more guerilla warfare style, taking out random creatures here and there with no military precision whatsoever. Not that I was up on military tactics at all…only a few years ago I’d learned guerilla warfare had nothing to do with monkeys.

  “Looks like it’ll be war,” Trent finished and downed his drink.

  The mention of war left my palms clammy. Wars were one thing when you learned about them in history class or watched a news reporter in some gorsaken place via the TV. But when you, yourself, are thrown into the middle of a brewing one, it’s not an enviable position. And fighting against vampires, wolves and demons? I’d rather rent the movie, thank you very much.

  Anne finished her drink and placed it on the table with a thud. Her glazed eyes and swaying body bore testament to the fact that she was inebriated. “I’m tired of talking about a pending war. There isn’t going to be any war with Bella—pretty soon we’re all going to have to face the Lurkers, and that’s going to be a war.”

  “Why don’t you think there will be a war?” I asked, grabbing onto her words like they were a life preserver, and I was drowning in the middle of the Pacific.

  Trent rolled his eyes, as if annoyed that I’d even broached the subject. Apparently, he thought there was going to be a war. Anne didn’t seem to notice.

  “Because when it comes down to it, we aren’t going to be foolish enough to fight each other when there is a bigger enemy out there.”

  I nodded, thinking she made a good point.

  “Anne, it has nothing to do with being foolish. If Bella attacks, what are we going to do? Welcome her in with tea and crumpets?” Jeffrey asked, his voice soft as though trying not to be harsh on his sister.

  I thought the tea and crumpets line was pretty funny and hid my smile in the sleeve of my shirt.

  “How do we even know she’s building an army?” Anne continued, apparently annoyed at being ganged up on. I didn’t know enough of the situation to take sides.

  “What else do you think she’s doing? She’s building an army—I’d bet my life on it,” Jeffrey finished and his lips were tight.

  “Enough talk about war,” Anne said. “Let’s go dancing. I haven’t been to a club in ages.”

  Trent faced me. “That could be fun. Are you up for it?” He gave me a little kiss on the tip of my nose.

  I didn’t want to be the party pooper although I was tired and hoped to have a nice evening with Trent…alone.

  “Sure,” I said, thinking I was quite the party martyr.

  Two hours later, I was drunker than I’d ever been. After my fourth amaretto sour, I’d lost count. There’s a point when you drink too much—past the point of the room spinning. That’s where I was and after dancing to what I could only class techno music, I slipped into a chair and watched as Trent, Anne and her brother danced together. Werewolves are physically stronger than humans are and can, therefore, dance longer than we can. And though I’m a witch, I still have that very human trait.

  My gaze steadied on Trent as I watched him move to the rhythm of the music. I couldn’t help the tingle that ran up my spine. I frowned as Anne interrupted my focus. She was dancing very close to Trent and didn’t have his gift in the moves department. She threw her hair behind her shoulder, trying to draw his attention to it.

  e it up, Rapunzel, I thought.

  As I watched Anne attempt to flirt with Trent, my head started spinning and I caught my breath, hoping I wouldn’t pass out. I felt like I was on a techno merry-go-round, and it was all I could do not to fall off. The room stopped spinning, and I found my gaze resting on Anne and Trent again. I could see why she’d be attracted to him—he had a presence about him, a certain je ne sais quoi'.

  I wasn’t in love with him, I was sure about that, but I cared a great deal for him. I did find myself wondering what our future would hold for us, though, as I figured his pack wanted him to date a wolf. As pack leader, he’d be expected to marry among his own kind and reproduce and he’d only be able to do so with another wolf.

  This was one of the birds and bees conversations I’d had with Mathilda. She’d explained the natural order of things and while it’d been one of the oddest conversations we’d had, I’d learned a lot.

  Apparently, witches and warlocks could reproduce together, but it was difficult for a witch to conceive. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I certainly wanted a family someday, but because that day seemed as far off as possible, the thought that it might be tough for me to conceive wasn’t as earth shattering as it otherwise might have been. And, who knew, maybe it was just hard for me to conceive with another witch. I’d neglected to clarify that little point with Mathilda.

  Vampires were technic
ally dead, so there was no bun in the ovens for them; fairies had an easier go of it and they could reproduce with anything—humans, witches, whatever. I guess they were like the rabbits of the Underworld. Demons could reproduce with witches or other demons; I’d yet to meet a demon, but somehow, the idea of reproducing with one left me cold.

  “How’s your night going?”

  I turned, feeling like I was underwater and faced a man smiling down at me. He was strange looking, and dopey—sort of like Gomer Pyle. I didn’t say anything and before I knew it, he was sitting next to me.

  “The name’s Bradley,” Gomer said. “You having yourself a good night?”

  “It’s going. How’s yours?” I asked even though I couldn’t care less about him or his night.

  “Better now.” His grin was toothy—it was like a donkey was sitting there and smiling at me.

  “Ha.” I managed as he scooted closer to me. I wasn’t discreet when I moved farther away from him. He didn’t notice. He must’ve been one of those people who required a bomb dropped in his lap with a note attached to it reading: I’m not interested!

  “What are you drinking?” he asked as I took a ride on the merry-go-round again.

  I dropped my forehead into my palm and closed my eyes, praying the room would stop spinning.

  “Nothing more, thanks,” I said and pulled my head up. Nope, my prayers hadn’t been answered—the room still spun like a record player.

  “I saw you sittin’ here all on your lonesome.”

  I rubbed my index fingers on my temples and tried to make the room hold still. I was amazed I was even able to continue the conversation.

  “I needed to sit one out.”

  “I like blonds.”

  “What do you want, a medal?” I felt like adding I’d never liked the Andy Griffith Show, but held my tongue. The dumbass wouldn’t get it anyway.

  He laughed as if he also liked rude women. “What’s your name?”