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by test


  I wondered again about the dreams. Sometimes Gage noticed me in the dreams, like I was having an out of body experience and he could see me. He hadn't mentioned it and I silently WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 41

  prayed he never would.

  The thought of discussing my presence, not once, but numerous times when he was

  making love to other women was humiliating and vaguely stalker-ish. Now that I thought about it, maybe he didn't know about the dreams, maybe I just thought he could see me. That was such a relieving thought I felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. Maybe I was just a little bit psychic or tele-something, I wasn't sure what it was called when you visited people you didn't know and spied on their lives. A tele-voyeur?

  I was delaying getting out of bed and facing my mother, brother and Gage. I thought about the flowers, the floating and the flames. My head began to ache at the feverish thoughts racing through my head. Maybe this was all some highly detailed delusion. I could be in a bed in full, four-point restraints, with a lithium drip and a file a foot thick full of unpronounceable diagnoses. Maybe, every few days, a man in a long white coat would write in my file and shake his head, 'Poor girl, she's completely mad. Thinks she's a witch, ha, ha!'

  The staff might check on me periodically to find me muttering crazily about magic spells, long lost family and orange bedrooms. I squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them quickly, nope, still here. I pinched my arm and then, for good measure, pinched it a second time, wincing at the sharp pain. Well, this was preferable to padded rooms and jackets that fastened in the back, but it was more complicated and required more from me than if all I had to do was lie around a hospital all day acting loony.

  I was happy about meeting my family, but that happiness was tinged with sadness. I still couldn't understand why Celia had done what she did. I thought she was my savior, keeping me out of foster homes after my parents died.

  I’d felt grateful to her for making a place for me in her busy life. What scraps of affection she could spare for me were fervently appreciated and I was always a little guilty that she had to invest so much time taking care of me. I had overheard, more than once, adults who said she obviously had never planned to have children and how kind it was of her to take in her niece.

  Celia was an emotionally cold woman. She never got mad, sad or annoyed with me. We didn't have talks over dinner about what we had done for the day and she didn't take an interest in whether or not I kept my grades up or if I made friends with anybody. If I failed a class she would simply say, “well, I am sure you tried your hardest Anna.”

  When something needed to be done, she did it. If it was something she wanted me to do, for example, cleaning the bathroom, she would write a note and slide it under my bedroom door.

  Her disappointment when I didn't behave or ignored my chores was silent and fraught with simmering annoyance. She didn't have to raise a finger to get me to do my homework or keep my room neat. Just a look from her was enough to make me want to do the right thing.

  Celia didn't have friends and she never dated anyone either. In my childish selfishness I had never seen anything wrong in the way she cut herself off from the rest of the world. I was glad she didn't have friends, that would have meant even less attention for me. Her self imposed loneliness was just so Celia. She lived a self contained life, just her and me against the world.

  That's the way it was and that's the way it had always been. Her reasons for moving us so often had been less clear, but I had accepted her decisions and found ways to survive the near constant changes.

  Now that I knew I had family who missed me and worried about me, I couldn't decide what was worse, that she kidnapped me and then didn't seem that interested in me or that her WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 42

  only goal seemed to be to keep me away from them and hurt them in the bargain.

  Enough of that, I could drive myself batty thinking about her. Besides, I could feel a storm on the horizon. My family's expectations seemed minimal right now. Helene and Laurent just seemed happy to see me again. But when the excitement faded away, what might they want of me?

  I couldn't even begin to think about the magic. The only experience I had of magic was the hat and card trick variety. What I had seen yesterday was amazing and defied reality as I knew it. The best I could do in this situation was to go along with it. I was sure I didn't have any magical abilities (I hoped my family wouldn't be too disappointed) and I wasn't sure that I wanted them either.

  A soft knock on the door interrupted my musings and I called out, “Who is it?”

  “It's me, your mother,” Helene said in her musical French accent. I smiled at her obvious pleasure in saying the words. I liked to hear them too. It would be a long time before I got over the excitement of meeting her. Having a mother and a brother was a rare joy.

  I got up quickly, tucked my shirt in and walked to the door to open it. Helene beamed at me when I opened the door and her look expression was concerned as she scanned me from head to toe.

  “May I?” She asked with a nod to the room behind me and I moved aside so that she could come in. She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at me. I quickly pulled the covers up a bit, trying to clean up. I didn't want her to think I was a slob as well as the hysterical, fainting type.

  “Are you okay?” She said.

  Her eyes roamed my face, stopping on my hair, my eyes, my nose. I knew what she was doing, because I found myself doing the same thing when I was around her. Trying to find something familiar in a face I was seeing for the second time in twenty years. Whatever she saw in me made her sigh with contentment and a mellow smile curved her lips. Her shoulders relaxed and she slumped back a little so that her shoulders leaned against the headboard for support.

  “I'm good, how about you?”

  “Well, I'm trying to get used to thinking of you as Anna. I hope you don't mind if I slip up occasionally and call you Amelie?”

  “No, of course, that's fine.”

  We were both quiet for a moment and then we started talking at the same time and laughed.

  “You go first.” I offered.

  “Your brother and I want so much to spend some time with you, but there is a situation that needs his help and I have a pediatric AIDS fund raiser that I have been organizing for the last year that I can't possibly reschedule …. ” her voice trailed away. She had a worried expression on her face as she looked to me with regret.

  “Well, I was thinking, I have about two weeks of vacation saved up. When I get back to Portland, and if I still have a job, I could arrange to come to Paris to visit you. Let's say, three months from now? Or, you could visit me. I have just the one bedroom, it would be tight, but if you don't mind-”

  Helene was shaking her head emphatically, “No, no, you can't go back to Portland by WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 43

  yourself, it is too dangerous now.”

  I was confused now, “Dangerous for me?”

  She had a worried expression on her face now, “Gage wants us all to meet downstairs for dinner, I think I will let him explain.”

  * * * *

  Gage and Laurent were seated at the dining table and drinking wine when we got downstairs. From the relaxed expressions on their faces, it looked like they'd been at it awhile.

  Both men stood up as we entered and I smothered a smile thinking how impressed Patty and Leah would be by their manners.

  I watched Harrison direct servants in the placement of several covered dishes and I leaned forward in anticipation of more culinary delights. I wasn't disappointed as we supped on osso buco and all the trimmings.

  With a contented sigh I leaned back in my chair and carefully folded my napkin alongside my empty plate.

  The conversation had wound down after we exhausted the subjects of the weather, the war in Iraq and the latest movies. Gage and Laurent loved karate action films and predictably, mother and I didn't.

  We were all skirting around the big
issues; Celeste and my kidnapping. I didn't think it was because no one wanted to talk about it, just that no one wanted to be the first to bring it up.

  For the most part, today had been good. The mood was mellow and happy. We ate a nice dinner and I had the singular experience of seeing my mother and brother, laugh and crack jokes about people they knew and the magical community in general. This was one of the best days in my life, I didn't want anything to ruin it.

  I cleared my throat and prepared to start, when Gage cut me off, “Anna can't go back to Portland alone.”

  Helene and Laurent nodded their heads in agreement. I stared at them in amazement, surprised that I was the only one willing to question Gage's pronouncement.

  Gage continued, “Three bodyguards and I will travel with her to Portland to make sure she is safe. I will arrange a safe house and guarded transport for her when she travels to and from her place of employment until a more permanent arrangement can be made.”

  I held up a hand and gave it a little wave to get everyone's attention, feeling ridiculous, like I was in third grade again.

  “I appreciate the gesture Gage, but I don't need a bodyguard to go with me to work or home or to the grocery store, alright? I realize you have all been a little traumatized by what Celia did, but I’m not a little girl anymore and I can take care of myself. In fact, I’ve lived alone for several years and I survived just fine.”

  Helene looked worried for a moment and gave Laurent and Gage a pleading look.

  Laurent turned to me with a serious expression and said, “There are some things you don't know about our world. Dangers you could never have imagined. Your life, the human life you lived, is over now. Accept that. Everyone knows who you are and, more importantly, what you are and you can't go back to what you had before. I'm sorry Anna. If only we found you fifteen or even ten years ago ...,” his voice trailed off and he raised his shoulders in a shrug that seemed to say it was a hopeless situation.

  He did look sorry for me, and that, more than anything else, had me worried. Also, it really freaked me out that they kept referring to me and themselves as not being human. I WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 44

  understood about the magic, it was crazy and against all the laws of nature. But two days ago I was just a normal woman, a human woman doing boring old human stuff. As far as I was concerned, I was still human.

  Besides, I couldn't imagine why they thought it was necessary for me to have bodyguards with me in Portland. Portland wasn't even a dangerous city. If they were worried that Celia would try to snatch me again, they could rest easy on that score. I was so angry with her, she would be wise to steer clear of me, I wasn't sure what I would do if I saw her again.

  “Anna, do you remember what I told you about the marriage contract my family made with yours?” Gage asked.

  I nodded to let Gage know I remembered, oh boy did I ever. I wasn't sure where he was going with this and I wasn't enthusiastic to find out. Was this where he made a formal declaration that he didn't want to marry me? It would be embarrassing, being rejected like that, especially with my mother and brother as witnesses, but understandable.

  It was ludicrous to think a man like him would want to marry me someone like me.

  Strangely, I felt a sudden urge to cry and I stiffened up and widened my eyes to suppress it.

  Why in the world should I care if Mr. Fireball didn't want to make me his wife? I just met the guy a few days ago!

  He continued, “That was for your protection. Warlocks cannot breed with human

  women. That is to say we can have children, but they have no powers, the children of those unions are born human. Warlocks and witches have children together so that we can preserve our genetic identity and the power that runs in our veins is passed on. This can only happen if a witch has children. If you were to leave my protection, return to Portland without a mate, another coven would steal you and use you as a breeder. They would be crazy not to, our numbers have been falling over the years. If Celeste hadn't put the muting spell on you all these years, you would have been snatched long ago.”

  I looked at Helene and she was silently nodding her head in agreement. Laurent looked away from me with a shamed expression. He was uncomfortable with the discussion and I had a moment to wonder why.

  “Are you saying that all the marriages in my family and yours have been arranged? That all the marriages in all magic families are arranged?”

  Gage nodded, with a grim smile.

  “But, that's horrible! So archaic and, and, just icky!” I sputtered, looking to Helene and Laurent for agreement. Helene gave me a weak smile and Laurent suddenly seemed to find his empty wineglass fascinating and was twirling it around with an absorbed look.

  Gage continued, “Some covens don't bother with marriages. They make breeding

  arrangements and exchange the resulting children for money or protection. Other covens keep a harem of fertile witches for the highest ranking members of their families to impregnate. The women are kept as virtual slaves; their children stolen away from them at birth and brainwashed and coerced into providing the next generation of children. Some are beaten and drugged to keep them compliant. As for their magical abilities, it is stunted and repressed with spells and salt water, so they can't fight back or try to escape.”

  I felt sick to my stomach now. What had I gotten myself into? It was hard to believe that something like this was happening in the world and this was the first I had ever heard of it.

  I wasn't a stranger to the misery and hardships of others. I cried over pictures of starving children in refugee camps in Africa and was enraged by news reports of pedophiles visiting child WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 45

  prostitutes in Thailand, but this was something else entirely. Babies born into generational slave families? Women who willingly traded their wombs for money? This was a nightmare; sex slaves and babies traded like commodities.

  Gage was talking again, I listened with rising horror to what else he had to say. “There are procurers; warlocks who seek out witches of child bearing age. Girls that, for whatever reason ended up raised in foster homes or with adoptive parents who don't know about their witch ancestors. They kidnap the girls and sell them to covens that need new breeders. Some of the girls are just children themselves and so they wait until they are a suitable age to allow the chosen warlocks to impregnate them.”

  I stood up from the table and my chair clattered to the floor with a crash, “Stop! I don't want to hear anymore! How can you allow this to go on? You're all monsters.”

  pointed a shaking finger at Gage, then Laurent and Helene. They all looked so calm, as if they were discussing a new restaurant they wanted to try. My heart was racing and the dinner I just ate was rolling in my belly in an alarming way. Truly, I felt sick with horror and I backed away from the table until I bumped into the wall.

  “Whenever I can, I try to help them. But they are good at hiding. Do you know how many warlocks there are? How many more than witches? Warlocks outnumber witches twenty to one, maybe more, I don't know, there's never been an accurate census taken. I can't tell the police, I would be leading them into a slaughter. Besides, they wouldn't believe me. So I do what I can. I save the girls that I can and keep hope for the rest.” Gage said sadly as he looked me in the eye daring me to say more.

  “There will always be those who prey on the powerless, who take advantage of the innocent. We can only be a scalpel to excise the evildoers when we find them,” Helene said with a mournful sigh.

  She was right of course and so were Gage and Laurent, but I didn't like it. If what they said was true I wasn't sure I wanted to walk to the bathroom by myself, let alone to and from my front door to the small covered parking spot I had near my apartment.

  On the one hand I had friends and a job in Portland and on the other I had my mother and brother and a disturbing attraction to Gage. To say I was intrigued by Gage was putting it lightly, every time I looked at the man I had to fig
ht to tear my eyes away from him. The way that he stared at me, the look on his face, hungry and urgent was exciting. I felt like I was playing a waiting game with him and as soon as I let my guard down he would pounce. The real question was; would I try to get away?

  I wasn't sure what to do and that was a new feeling for me. I had always been sure what my next move was. I was a natural planner. I arranged things out in advance, I wrote to do lists and checked off items as I completed the tasks I had set myself. All this prearranging made me sound like a rigid and controlled person, but it was the way I coped with all the moves and uncertainty when I was a child.

  Starting a new school every five to six months is taxing for an extrovert, but for someone like me, who found new people troubling and the changing environment stressful, it was hair raising. As I child I had carefully observed and experimented with the best ways to find a place in a new school.

  The trick was to make one friend the first day. If you didn't make a friend your first day, it was likely you never would. I don't understand why, but that's just the way it is. You would get labeled stuck up or nerdy and then the other kids would avoid you like the plague.

  WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 46

  So I worked hard to find a friend. You had to pick someone who had a couple of other friends that you could join in with. This sounds calculating and unemotional, but after spending months eating alone in the cafeteria and hiding out in the school library during recess, I knew I had to do something different at the next school.

  By the time I was in the sixth grade I was a pro at making a place for myself at new schools. Surprisingly, High School was the easiest. I joined the dance club even though I couldn't dance and the computer club even though I didn’t have one at home.

  These kinds of fringe school groups were the most welcoming. They were made up of the rebels, the geeks and dreamers that didn't fit into the rigid school social structure. I didn't really fit in either and so I found a home with them and had a nice High School experience, considering my rambling past.

 

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