Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble, a Paranormal Romance

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Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble, a Paranormal Romance Page 29

by H. P. Mallory


  NINETEEN

  The darkness of the room enveloped me, and I was overcome with the smell of something sickeningly sweet…the scent of sickness, of infection. It was the stink of a rose that had been sitting in stale water for too long—the smell of death, rotting and sugary.

  I forced myself forward, forced myself to approach the four-poster bed. In the darkness, I could make out a small woman engulfed in the center, her long gray hair matted in clumps, sweat pouring from her brow.

  A small lamp sitting on a side table burned yellow against the pitch darkness of the room. It cast strange shadows against the woman’s face, making her deathly pallor even more pronounced. I wasn’t sure if the brownish stain on her pillow was from sweat or something worse. The high neckline of her nightgown reached her chin, making her look like a turtle. The covers were strewn around her, as if she’d been tossing and turning.

  I fought the need to open a window and clear out the deathly odors that hid in each corner of the room. The air was so thick with stale mustiness, I could bite it.

  The old woman’s eyes were closed, but I imagined they’d be colorless. One as old as she wouldn’t have effervescence in her eyes. They’d be dull and void, life having distilled any vivacity from them.

  I neared the bed, fully aware she couldn’t see me.

  I was here to bring her back to life. To bring her back to the land of the living, so she could serve the undeserving person of Bella. I was here to reanimate an enemy. The irony lined my throat like mucus.

  The woman wasn’t a werewolf or a ghost, so I couldn’t really rely on past experiences for guidance on this one. The woman was a prophetess, at least that’s what Bella had called her. Apparently, a prophetess was someone who could see the future. I didn’t know how that differed from a psychic, but didn’t care enough to ask any questions. I wasn’t sure what this meant for me, if bringing back a so-called prophet would make my job any different, any harder.

  She was over eighty, if I had to guess and sickness hovered around her like a fog. Being the late 1800s when leeches were considered good medicine, it wasn’t going to be long before her maker came for her. Or I intervened.

  Then it suddenly dawned on me, how would I know when Death arrived? In all my other experiences, it was obvious when the time of reckoning was upon the person in question. This was entirely different. There was no gunshot, no angry wolf…this was sickness, slow and unreliable.

  I moved closer to the bed, willing myself to breathe through my mouth, so the sickening scent of infection wouldn’t cause me to retch. Her eyes were clamped shut, her breathing shallow and ragged—like the sounds you hear as a kid when you’re supposed to be asleep, but you’re convinced there’s a monster breathing in your ear. I wondered how long it was going to take her to kick it. I didn’t want to wait around all day. Not like I had much to get back to—a pissed off witch and a vampire who was making it very difficult to hate him.

  I angrily shoved thoughts of Sinjin away. I couldn’t deal with them now. I sighed and broke away from the bed, wandering around the barren room. It was like being on a tour of some museum house where you’re allowed to stand in a room but touch nothing. I frowned and touched every piece of furniture.

  There was no one to witness the old woman’s demise. If I were here for another reason, I might actually feel sorry for her. As it were, I felt nothing.

  “Who’s there?”

  Her voice shocked me out of my boredom. I couldn’t see anyone else in the room, and it took me a second to realize she was talking to me.

  “I can’t see you,” she continued, her fingers clutching her bedspread. “But, I know you’re there.”

  I neared the bed again and noted her old and dull eyes were open wide with fear. She gazed around the room, but her eyes never focused on me. I wasn’t sure if she was blind or what. After watching her for a few more seconds, it looked as if she could clearly focus on the door, so she wasn’t blind…

  “Speak!” She insisted.

  I was at a loss for words. What was I supposed to say? Hello and how is your day going? Were you planning on dying any quicker?

  “Can you hear me?” I said, thinking it the next best question.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed.

  “Who are you?”

  My mouth fell open as shock waged a mini battle within me. I guess thhere? what was different about resurrecting a prophet. She could hear me where none others could. It sort of weirded me out.

  “I’m here to save you,” I said, thinking I sounded like an idiotic super hero.

  She laughed. Apparently, she thought my answer idiotic too. Her laugh turned into a racking cough and my hands curled as I waited on pins and needles for her to die, so I could dive in and stop it from happening.

  “You can’t save me,” she said, once the spasm of coughs escaped her. Her voice was gravelly. It sounded dehydrated. She opened her eyes again and searched for me in vain. I stepped up closer to her.

  “I can save you,” I said, though not completely convinced.

  “Are you a spirit?” Sweat poured from her brow, making it look like her forehead was crying. It grossed me out, and I had to look away, the need to open a window as demanding as eating something sweet when you’re on a diet.

  I shook my head and then remembered she couldn’t see me.

  “No.”

  “Why can’t…I see you?” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell she was sick with. Hopefully it wasn’t airborn. Not that it mattered anyway—as a witch, I could heal myself. Apparently, such was not the case with prophetesses. Maybe she was just sick with old age.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What are you?” She frowned and grated a trembling, gnarled hand across her brow. Her hand was so old, you could mistake it for a tree root.

  “I’m a witch,” I started. “From the future.”

  As soon as I said it, I realized how ridiculous it sounded and felt like laughing myself. A witch from the future…If it was me, I’d think I was dreaming. It surprised me that this woman didn’t consider the same thing. Course, maybe she was.

  The old woman sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. “You,” she whispered.

  “You…you know me?” Wait, that couldn’t be right. She was delirious. Great, I didn’t have time for this crap.

  “Ah, I remember.”

  I sat on the edge of her bed. But after imagining her sickness crawling along the bed, up my arm and into my nose and mouth, I quickly stood.

  “You remember what?”

  She cleared her throat and reached for a glass of water on the side table, her hand shaking like she had palsy.

  “You are the prophecy. I never believed it, but it…must be true.”

  My heart slammed against my chest as I wondered what in the hell she was talking about.

  “What prophecy?”

  “ “">We were…told that you would come. The woman who…can bring with her everlasting life. I…I never believed it.”

  She looked as excited as someone could who’s nearly dead. I didn’t know what to think, but I couldn’t stop the angst that welled up within me. A prophecy? It seemed implausible that she should know about me hundreds of years ago, but it unsettled me all the same.

  “I don’t bring everlasting life,” I said, trying to disprove her belief for my own sense of well being.

  “Are you here to save me from dying?”

  I nodded and caught myself again. It was hard being invisible. I had a new level of understanding for Pelham. Pelham…the thought that I might never see his ghostly handsome face caused me more chagrin than I wanted to admit. Of course, that thought led to ones of Rand, and I had to abandon them before I became a blubbering mess.

  “Yes, but…”

  “You can’t save me.”

  I was annoyed. I wasn’t sure if it was so much due to the situation or the thoughts of Rand which had thoroughly depressed me.

  “Wh
y not?”

  “You can only save those who wish to be saved.” A smile played with her lips—almost like she was pleased she could throw a wrench into my plans.

  “I have a job to do, and that job is bringing you back with me, regardless if you want me to or not.”

  Her smile widened, revealing tarnished and yellow teeth—four to be exact. God only knows what had happened to the rest. I could never understand why people held such a reverence for the past. No doctors and no dentists…I was very happy to be part of the twenty first century.

  She pointed toward the vicinity of where I sat.

  “I know why you…are here. I will not go…with you.”

  There was no point in arguing with the old fart. Once she started to see the light, I was grabbing her and taking her with me. I backed away from the bed and stretched my arms above my head. God, she was taking forever.

  “I won’t join Isabella,” she said in a small voice.

  That grabbed my attention like Rand in a pair of tightly fitting pants, and I neared the bed again.

  “Why is that?”

  She turned her head to the side and seemed to focus all her energy on a single rose bloom that stood in a tall vase. There was no water in the vase and the rose looked wan with thirst.

  “I have looked forward to my…freedom for so long. I refuse…to be her slave any longer.”

  Hmm this was interesting.

  “Bella seems to think you’re pretty important. You were on the top of her list.”

  “She’s mistaken.

  I sighed. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.”

  The old woman laughed, an empty sound that grated on my nerves like a Celine Dion song.

  “You do not serve her.”

  I frowned. “I work for her, it’s the same thing.”

  “No, you do not. I can sense it from you.”

  She started coughing again and I inched closer, thinking she couldn’t last much longer.

  “I’m dying,” she said as if to validate my thoughts.

  “I’m taking you with me.”

  She shook her head as her breathing became very ragged.

  “Tell Isabella I will…see her in hell.”

  I grabbed hold of her shoulder as she exhaled and her eyes popped open.

  “You are no witch,” she said, her eyes wide. “You have…no idea…what…you…are.”

  Then she died.

  Before I could fully understand her words, I was rushing through a tunnel. A flash of light burst in front of me. I opened my eyes and found my cheek against the itchiness of cheap carpet. I peeled myself off the floor and sat back on my thighs. I shook my head, trying to shake off the after-effects of mind traveling.

  “Jolie…” Sinjin said, worry gnawing at his otherwise handsome face.

  Bella gave him a scowl before her eyes fell on me and the scowl turned deadly.

  “Where is the prophetess?”

  “She refused to come with me,” I said, thinking the truth was the best response. “I grabbed her arm when she died, but it made no difference.”

  Bella’s eyes narrowed as color rose in her cheeks. She stood up and towered over me, her hand twitching like it wanted to lash out and smack me.

  “You’re lying!”

  “I’m not lying,” I answered between gritted teeth and stood, angry that I still had to look up into her eyes. Being small had its shortcomings…no pun intended.

  “Perhaps we should try it again tomorrow,” Sinjin interrupted, taking Bella’s hand. I’m not sure why, but the image of him holding Bella’s hand pissed the hell out of me. I had to drop my gaze lest either of them see the angry flames lashing from my eyes.

  “She won’t come back with me. She knew I was there for her, and she knew it because of a prophecy,” I said, instantly regretting my diarrhea mouth. I didn’t want to give Bella any useful information. I wasn’t sure how useful this tidbit was, but I needed to watch my mouth.

  “What prophecy?” She eyed me.

  I sighed. “The woman said she’d known I was coming for her. That’s all I know, so don’t ask me anymore about it.”

  Bella frowned, and I could see the hatred in her eyes. I guess she wasn’t used to people talking to her in such a way, but I didn’t care. She could force me into doing her bidding, but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

  “I’ve listened to enough of your drivel. Sinjin, get her out of my sight before I do something we’ll both regret.”

  Sinjin reached for me, but I avoided him.

  “Don’t touch me dammit…”

  “Jolie,” Sinjin interrupted me, his jaw so tight, I immediately shut up. He grabbed my arm, and his grip was none too gentle as he led me down a long and dark corridor. He threw open the door to our bedroom and deposited me in the room with a shove as he slammed the door behind us.

  “You need to watch yourself.”

  “Screw you.”

  He took a seat on his bed.

  “Bella will hurt you if you drive her to it.”

  I refused to look at him and even went so far as to sit on my bed, my back facing him. The mattress was squishy beneath me, completely different to the hardness of the cot. Tonight would be my first night in my new abode. I knew I wouldn’t sleep a wink, not if Sinjin was in here with me. And I knew he would be—he’d made it his business to be my keeper.

  “I don’t care.”

  “You care what she does to your friend?”

  I dropped my face and eyed my lap. He had me there.

  “Okay, you’ve proven your point. You can go now.”

  He materialized directly in front of me, and I thought I’d choke on my gasp.

  “It is impolite to turn your back on someone,” he said with a smile.

  “I don’t care.”

  “I have killed men for less,” he continued, and if he was trying to intimidate me, it was working.

  “What do you want, a gold star?”

  Sinjin laughed, and I found myself enjoying the sound, much though I wanted to kick myself with the realization.

  “You are very fortunate you are a woman and a beautiful one at that,” he finished, eyeing me up and down as his tongue caressed his fangs. I shuddered.

  I stood up and turned away from him. No sooner did I turn my back in a show of disobedience, then I found myself up against the wall, my cheek a witness to the roughness of the brick. I stifled the whimper that brewed in my throat and closed my eyes against the excitement that stirred in my stomach when I felt Sinjin’s body tight against mine.

  “Do you know how many vampires are in my command?” he whispered and his breath tickled my ear.

  “No, nor do I care.”

  His fingers ran up the sleeve of my sweatshirt until they reached my shoulder. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, but refused to admit that his touch sent a bolt of heat through me. He pulled against the sweatshirt, and it dropped from my shoulder, the strap of my tank top left to hold down the fortress. His cold fingers graced my skin and it reacted with goose bumps.

  “Why do you shiver at my touch?”

  I shut my eyes tight and tried to imagine myself in the heat of the desert, trying to imagine myself anywhere hot enough to melt the damned gooseflesh from my skin.

  “You’re cold,” I answered and smirked at my own response. Not bad.

  Sinjin laughed. “I think it is for a different reason, Poppet.”

  I swallowed hard. “And what reason would that be?”

  His fingers started a descent down my collarbone and further still. Before he reached my breasts, I grabbed his hand and he jerked me around, pushing me back up against the wall. I forced my gaze to his. I wouldn’t allow myself to cower before him.

  “I think you are very aware that I would like nothing more than to bed you.”

  My mouth dropped open. He was like a romance novel book character come to life.

  “Who the hell talks like that?” I said, wishing I could’ve come up with someth
ing better. Not good.

  “Do not be afraid of me, Poppet. I can see the lust in your eyes.”

  I pulled away from him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  He laughed and took a seat on his bed. I breathed a sigh of relief, imagining he might stay there, hoping he would stay there. I couldn’t handle him so close to me, it made me think things I shouldn’t be thinking.

  I rubbed my upper arms, hoping to destroy the memory of his hands on me.

  “Why are you here? Don’t you have something better to do?”

  He quirked his head. “I am your keeper. I am keeping you.” He smiled with fangs, and I just shook my head.

  “So, I’m stuck with you?”

  He nodded and leaned back, completely at ease. “Shall we have a conversation? I find myself excited about the prospect of learning more about you.”

  I groaned. “Fine. Whatever. Just nothing sexual. What do you want to talk about?”

  I felt like I was babysitting some kid nd trying to keep him entertained.

  “Ask me a question.”

  I frowned. “How old are you?”

  He straightened, apparently eager to talk about himself.

  “Six hundred nineteen.”

  I gulped. “Holy crap.”

  Sinjin laughed. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty eight.”

  “Holy crap,” he said with a smile before changing the subject. “Was it true what you said? That the old woman refused to go with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  I plopped down on the bed. “I’m only sitting because I want to, not because you suggested it,” I said, sounding all of twelve years old.

  Sinjin chuckled. “Of course.”

  “Why aren’t you concerned about making Bella jealous with your...attentions to me?”

  He quirked a brow. “I thought you said we could not discuss anything sexual?”

  “That isn’t…” I interrupted myself as realization dawned on me.

  He was sleeping with her! No wonder she looked like she wanted to kill me. After the initial shock wore off, I was left with a big helping of jealousy or was it envy…either way, it wasn’t pleasant. Why did I have any sort of sexual feelings for this creature? God, it was infuriating.

 

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