Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble, a Paranormal Romance

by H. P. Mallory

  Trent paused and glanced around him before his eyes settled back on me.

  “Can we go somewhere a bit more private?”

  There was no way in hell I was granting him the favor of going anywhere more private. Whatever he had to say, he could do it right here in the hallway.

  “No,” I said. “We can’t. What is there to talk about anyway?”

  “About us.”

  I shook my head, little bursts of anger heating up my blood.

  “There is no us, Trent.”

  He paused and shifted uncomfortably as a woman stepped between us, on her way to the ladies’ room. I envied her, wishing I could escape just as easily.

  “I wanted to tell you I’ve missed you.”

  Was he insane? I couldn’t imagine why he’d even bother talking to me when he was the one who dumped me. Couldn’t he leave me alone and allow me to lick my wounds with dignity?

  “It’s a little bit late for that now, don’t you think? Or have you forgotten the part about you dumping me?” I said, not caring if I sounded pissed off or not.

  He sighed and tried the quarreling with me route.

  “I knew you wouldn’t understand and you’d take it the wrong way.”

  “Trent, I’m not a dumbass, so don’t treat me like one.” I started past him.

  He grasped my upper arm, stopping me.

  “I did it for your own good. I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

  I laughed and it was a caustic sound.

  “That’s a good one. I’m up to my neck in the same crap you are.” I yanked my arm out of his grip.

  “Well, let’s give it another shot, then.”

  “You aren’t serious?” I asked with a slight facetious laugh, before my smile fell off my face.

  “Let me rephrase that…have you lost your fucking mind?”

  Trent shook his head. “No, Jolie, you don’t understand.”

  “I think I understand perfectly well,” I snapped, my gaze settling on Trent’s table and the discomfort in Anne’s face as she awaited his return.

  “How would Anne feel about that?”

  “It’s not like that between us.”

  I frowned, feeling I was close to my boiling point.

  “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

  Before he had a chance to respond, Rand appeared.

  “Is everything okay, Jolie?” he asked, stepping close to me. The feel of his warm hand on my lower back provided me with the comfort and strength I needed. Well, and some excited hormones, which I guess I didn’t need…

  “Yes, Trent was just saying hello, but he has to get back to his table now,” I answered, my lips tight. I glared at Trent so he’d understand I was serious. There was no way I’d ever consider getting back together with him. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  Trent frowned. “Actually, we were in the midst of a private conversation.”

  Even though I imagined Rand wouldn’t take that as his exit cue, I grabbed his hand to ensure he’d stay.

  “Trent, I have nothing more to say to you, so either you go or we will.”

  Trent gritted his teeth and merely stared at me for a moment, a moment that felt really freaking long. Finally, with a perfunctory nod, he walked away. I took in a deep breath and realized I was still holding Rand’s hand. His grip was strong, sure. I didn’t want to let go. I squeezed his fingers to show my appreciation and then forced myself to drop his hand.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me.”

  Rand quirked a brow and frowned.

  “I hope he wasn’t doing what I thought he was?”

  I couldn’t keep the wry laugh from my lips.

  “Well, I’m not sure what you thought he was doing, but he just asked me to get back together with him as if he’d never dumped me in the first place.” I shook my head. Men.

  “Well, he came to his senses and realized the mistake he’d made…you did say no?”

  “Did I say no?” I scoffed. “Of course I said no!”

  My attention fell to our table and it occurred to me that Gwynn was sitting especially close to Ryder. I wondered if Rand had noticed it as well and if it bothered him. He didn’t seem upset—he seemed the same levelheaded Rand he always was.

  “Seems that Gwynn is quite taken with Ryder,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  Rand turned his attention from me to Gwynn who was now leaning in to whisper something in Ryder’s ear.

  “It follows that she would be. There’s a very special bond between vampires when one turns the other.”

  I nodded. “Does it bother you?”

  Rand laughed and furrowed hisbrows. “Why would it bother me?”

  I shrugged, confused. “I thought you and Gwynn were…”

  Rand frowned. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “Well, you’ve been in London quite a bit and…” my voice trailed off as I tried to think of the reasons I’d thought he and Gwynn were an item. It didn’t help that he was considering me with complete amusement.

  “W…well, that’s what Christa said.”

  “I’ve been in London making plans with Gwynn for this evening and we’ve been meeting to chart our progress with our own union…”

  I sighed, not in the mood for long-winded explanations.

  “It’s none of my business anyway. I was just concerned that if you were d…dating her or maybe you weren’t dating her but…”

  Rand grabbed hold of my shoulders and forced me to look at him.

  “I am not and never have dated Gwynn, Jolie. She’s not my type.”

  I couldn’t meet his gaze as I wondered what his type was.

  “Oh.” Gwynn was blond, I was blond…

  “Were you on your way to the powder room?” he asked.

  Ah yes, the restroom.

  I nodded and he turned my shoulders in the direction of the ladies’ room and gave me a friendly shove forward. With a chuckle, he returned to the table.

  I hurried to the restroom so I could catch my breath. I must have sounded like a stuttering moron. Even though I was embarrassed, I couldn’t help the happiness that welled up within me. I stared at my reflection, noting the flush of color, brought on no doubt by the fact that Rand and Gwynn weren’t an item. Slowly, my lips split into a wide grin.

  When I returned to the table, I noticed everyone starting in on their dinners. Christa smiled up at me and I was relieved to have her by my side. I took my place, but nerves and excitement shredded any appetite I might have had. I picked at the vegetables, but just managed to move them around the plate. Giving up on eating anything, I looked about the room at the people who would comprise our union. I wondered how many of them would join us and how many would move on or worse, join Bella.

  “When does the bar open?” Ryder asked Rand with a sneer.

  Rand didn’t look up from his plate.

  “I imagine after we’ve finished our dinner.”

  Ryder pushed his untouched plate away.

  “I’m done.”

  As he stood and moved toward the bar, I noticed how big he was. Talk about a menacing looking person. Even though he was incredibly rude, he did bring back two bottles of wine forle and upon offering me a glass, I welcomed it wholeheartedly.

  “Is anyone teachin’ the witch self defense?” he asked the table and settled back into his seat.

  I wasn’t even aware he was talking about me until Rand glanced at me.

  “No, we’ve been focusing on other matters,” he said.

  “What do I need self defense for if I have magic?” I asked.

  Ryder leaned back in his seat and eyed me as he took a long and exaggerated gulp of his wine.

  “Your magic ain’t gonna work on me or any other vampire. If I was attackin’ you, I’d break you in half.”

  Shocked by his response, I said nothing, but looked at Rand for reassurance.

  Rand smiled at my reaction.

&
nbsp; “You have a valid point.”

  Not exactly the reassurance I wanted.

  Ryder nodded. “I could teach her self-defense.”

  “No,” I blurted out and everyone regarded me with surprise. There was no way in hell I wanted anything more to do with this horrid creature.

  “I meant, I have tutors who could teach me.”

  “What, the fairies?” Ryder snorted. “I eat fairies for dinner.”

  Shocked, I said nothing and turned to face Rand, but the jerk was actually smiling!

  “Ryder is a self defense expert,” Rand said, as if in explanation to why he was wearing that goddamned smile.

  It was Gwynn’s turn to argue the idea.

  “Yes, but he’s going to be busy working with me on the unionizing efforts. I’m certain someone else can train the witch.”

  While I didn’t appreciate being referred to as “the witch,” I agreed with her one hundred percent.

  “I really wouldn’t want to be a hindrance,” I started.

  “If you’re so important, I can make time to train you,” Ryder responded.

  I really wanted to say that I wasn’t important but just dropped my head and faced the pile of food before me. God, I was so pissed off. And what bothered me most was that Rand seemed to champion the idea. Could this night get any worse?

  You are awfully quiet.

  It was Rand’s voice in my head. I looked up at him.

  Why would you agree to let him train me? He’s horrible!

  He’s the best person to train you—he’s right, you do need to learn to defenself.

  But, I don’t trust him!

  Did you really think I’d leave you alone with him? I’ll be right there with you.

  That made me feel a bit safer. How many times will I have to meet with him?

  Until you can adequately protect yourself.

  I didn’t respond, but turned my attention away from him, put out with the whole thing. The sound of music met my ears and I turned to watch as people began nearing the dance floor. I thought it was a waltz if I had to guess, but I wasn’t too familiar with classical music. This had to be the weirdest night of my life. Surrounded by creatures of the Underworld and now a waltz?

  I downed the remnants of my glass and Ryder refilled it. I didn’t say anything but nodded my thanks, noting Gwynn hanging on him like a toupee on a bald man. If she was attempting to talk him out of training me, I wished her much success.

  He pulled away from her and leaned in closer to me.

  “You’ll thank me one day.”

  It would be a cold day in hell before those words ever spilled from my lips.

  Christa finished her glass of wine and accepted another from Ryder. I wished I could teleconverse with her to see what she thought of the bastard. The waltz ended and Bon Jovi’s “Living in Sin” came on, making me think this night couldn’t get any odder.

  Christa grabbed my hand when I thought she would and with a great big smile, she led me to the dance floor. I was only too happy to appease her in order to escape the confines of the table and Ryder’s insistent gaze. I’d taken my glass of wine with me and downed the remnants, giving myself a little liquid courage.

  After dancing three songs, I started feeling better. At the start of the fourth song, I decided I needed a rest and returned to the table. It was empty aside from Rand who leaned back in his chair regarding the scenery around him with interest.

  I took the seat next to him and watched the throng of dancers pulsate to the rhythm of the music.

  “Aren’t you a dancer?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I prefer the old style of dancing.” He turned his attention to me and I dropped my gaze.

  “You look beautiful tonight, I didn’t get to tell you earlier.”

  I offered a small smile in thanks as thoughts of reflection coursed through me. My life had changed in ways I’d never have imagined. Even though there had been bad moments and my future was uncertain, I’d have to say it had changed for the better.

  “It’s funny where you end up in life,” I said, reaching for a glass of water.

  “How so?”

  “A year ago, no, six months ago, if someone were to tell me I’d be dancing with a bunch of witches, wolves and vampires, I’d say they were crazy.”

  Rand laughed. “Destiny is a funny thing.”

  “Do you think that’s what it is?”

  “I do,” he answered as Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” came on. This only happened to be one of my favorite songs, and so I stood up and reached for Rand’s hand.

  “It’s not a waltz, but it’s slow enough, come on.”

  Rand took my hand and as we walked to the dance floor together, I caught Christa’s eye. She waved as she mouthed the words to the song—this was one of her favorites too.

  Rand grabbed hold of my waist as we started dancing. I had to give it to him, he wasn’t half-bad.

  “I actually like this song too. I liked it when it first came out,” he whispered in my ear and I laughed.

  It was wonderful being in his arms, being so close to him. The scent of his aftershave hit me and I had to inhale, thinking it the best aphrodisiac. He twirled me around and caught me even more closely than he’d been holding me before. For a moment, I could pretend there was no tension between us, that we could admit our feelings for one another…that we had admitted them.

  “I should teach you to waltz sometime, I imagine you’d be wonderful,” he whispered in my ear.

  I didn’t notice that another song had started until it was almost halfway over. I did notice that Rand was now holding me against him, very closely. I closed my eyes and settled my head against the crook of his neck. Melting into him, I could feel every hard plane of his chest, every muscle.

  “You make our work relationship very difficult on me,” Rand whispered as his hand began stroking my waist

  “These are your rules we’re playing by, not mine,” I said with no amount of apology.

  “I second guess them every day,” he said and squeezed my waist. I lifted my head just in time to see Trent grabbing Rand’s collar. Before anyone could stop him, he yanked Rand from my grasp and punched him across the face. Rand, completely unaware, fell to the ground, but was up an instant later, his lip busted and bleeding. A few women screamed, and I wasn’t sure, I might have been one of them.

  Realizing I had to do something, I jumped between the two of them and grabbed Trent’s jacket, trying to keep him from going after Rand again.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I screamed as he turned his attention to me with a sneer.

  “That bastard has been after you all along,” Trent said and grabbed hold of my waist, pulling me into his hard body.

  I pushed against him, but his grip was iron strong.

  The entire room was silent as everyone’s attention centered on Rand who was facing Trent with an anger the likes of which I never seen before. He wore the façade of calm, but his eyes were raging, his hands fisted. His aura was doing its own dance of ire, billowing purple against the rage and humiliation Rand must’ve been feeling.

  “Let go of her,” Rand seethed.

  Trent tightened his grip on me, and I dug my nails into his arm, pushing against him.

  “You’re making a drunk fool of yourself,” I seethed.

  “If you don’t bloody well let go of her now, I will kill you,” Rand warned and his eyes were deadly serious. Dear God, he would.

  Even though Trent was far down on my list of favorite people, I couldn’t say I wanted to see him dead. I glanced at Rand’s determined countenance and his eyes spelled it out in no uncertain terms. Trent was lucky he was still alive.

  “Don’t be a moron, you can’t defeat him,” I whispered, hoping Trent would back down. Then I remembered I was a witch and imagined a powerful burst of electricity coursing through Trent, not something too potent but just enough to wake him the hell up. Trent jumped and I stepped away from him.

 
; “Go then,” he growled, the hairs on his arm all standing to attention—hmm, maybe I’d jolted him with a little too much energy.

  “I want you to leave,” Rand said and I could see he was subduing himself. He’d always hated Trent and I imagined it was all he could do to keep himself in check.

  Trent laughed and made a move for the door, but being the bastard he was, had to get the last word in.

  “Jolie, when you get sick of the warlock, you know where to find me.”

  SIXTEEN

  As I sat in my room and removed my earrings, I couldn’t help but play back the events of the night. What had Trent been thinking? God, I was almost embarrassed I’d dated him considering what an idiot he’d turned out to be. I was surprised Rand hadn’t killed him on the spot.

  Rand.

  I couldn’t suppress the heat that started at the top of my head and coursed through my entire body. I’d been seriously misled to think Trent had in any way dissipated my feelings for Rand. I was as crazy about him now as I always had been. Trent had just been a minor interlude in the symphony known as Rand.

  I shook my head against the onslaught of emotion that claimed my already fragile temperament and faced myself in the mirror. I, Jolie Wilkins, never imagined it possible that two men would fight over me; things like that just didn’t happen to me. Well, I guess now they did.

  I sighed and turned around, thinking I should get undressed and go to bed. The thought held no temptation—I wasn’t tired, even though it was late and I’d spent enough adrenalin to wipe out a small army. There was an insistent hum alive in my head that would prohibit me from sleeping—a hum of thoughts regarding Rand: if he were sleeping, how his lip was, if he was mad at me.

  I suddenly remembered Rand telling me in Chicago that he could tell when I was sleeping by sending…mental feelers, I think he’d called them. Hmm, maybe it was worth a shot. I closed my eyes and imagined Rand, but from there, I wasn’t sure what to do. After a few seconds of getting myself all hot and bothered as my dream Rand happened to be naked, I opened my eyes.

  In a moment of spontaneity, I slipped my feet back into my four-inch heels and grabbed my room key that had been ogling me from the bed stand all night. If the damned thing were capable, it’d be smiling and winking at me about now, knowing I was headed for the elevator that would take me to Rand’s floor.