Safe Hex: A Hexy Witch Mystery (Womby's School for Wayward Witches Book 16)

by Sarina Dorie

  He wore his white trousers and shirt, though he had omitted the silver robes. From the murderous gleam in his eyes, it looked as though he were ready to punch Elric. All things being considered, I was surprised it hadn’t come to blows between them earlier.

  Elric continued before I could inquire why Thatch would feel it necessary to protect me from himself. “He’s projecting his lack of self-confidence onto this situation because he knows I can cure your problem and he can’t. He’s jealous. We’ve tried every cure except the one I told him would work.”

  I suspected I understood now.

  Thatch shouted. “No. It’s because I don’t want you to take advantage of someone I love while she is unconscious and vulnerable and paralyzed.” He shoved Elric away from me.

  It was that word. Paralyzed. The word I had been pretending I hadn’t been hearing in my head.

  “She isn’t unconscious. She’s awake. She is perfectly able to give her consent.” Elric stumbled back and righted himself.

  I burst into tears. “I don’t want to be paralyzed. I need to be able to walk.” I had no magic to electrocute my enemies and no way to run. How was I supposed to help my students if I couldn’t even protect myself?

  Thatch wrapped his arms around himself, looking miserable. I wish he had returned to my side and wrapped his arms around me.

  “There, there. You won’t be paralyzed for long. Hush.” Elric kissed my hand, his eyes pleading. “Just say the word, and I’ll make it all better.”

  I sniffled and wiped my eyes with the white sleeve of the nightgown I wore.

  “Here.” Thatch took out his pocket handkerchief and strode closer.

  Elric removed his own before Thatch could reach me. Elric dabbed at my eyes and ignored Thatch’s proffered hand. Elric’s handkerchief was made from fancy lace embroidered with flowers. I took it from him and blew my nose on it.

  When I handed it back to him, he stared at it, aghast. Maybe it was a faux pas to blow one’s nose on a lacy hankie belonging to royalty. A wicked smile tugged at Thatch’s lips. Elric tucked the handkerchief back into his breast pocket.

  I held my hand out to my husband. He stared at it for a long moment, the gesture oddly reluctant. Perhaps he feared I would drain him.

  “What should I do?” I asked.

  It was another long moment before he took my hand. He spoke each word slowly, as though it injured his pride to do so. “You must be strong. And practical.”

  I nodded. It made this less daunting knowing how pragmatic he was. “I will.”

  “Elric might be a git, but I will concede he does care about you. Listen to his proposal, and consider it. For me.” Thatch touched his lips to mine, a ghost of a kiss more than the satisfaction I craved. “You need his magic to heal. We’ve attempted everything else.”

  I tried to smile at him, despite anxiety gnawing at my confidence. I did my best to put up a strong front so he wouldn’t worry.

  Thatch stroked the hair away from my face and stooped to kiss my forehead. His touch was a balm to my worries. I held his hand against my cheek, savoring the comfort he brought me. His Adam’s apple bobbed down and up in his throat as he swallowed.

  “I love you,” I said.

  His voice was thick with emotion. “You know I would do anything for you.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I know.”

  “I’m going to fetch you something to eat.” He kissed my cheek. “I trust your judgment to know what will best help you.”

  Thatch’s eyes narrowed at Elric with an unspoken threat as he withdrew. He silently glided out of the room, his head held high despite his disheveled appearance. He quietly closed the door behind him.

  Elric crossed his arms, tapping his fingers against his jaw in consideration. “He has a right to be concerned. He knows what the treatment entails.”

  I swallowed. “Just tell me the cure, Elric.”

  “Focus on your core.” The start of sensation returned to my feet and legs as Elric resumed massaging me. “If you want me to return your Witchkin powers and heal you, I must awaken your center of magic in the only way that would be appropriate for anyone with a touch affinity such as yours. I must touch you intimately.” He waggled his eyebrows. “More precisely, I must reach your core energetically through physical means. . . . I must place my sword in your sheath and give you pleasure like you’ve never experienced before.”

  There was Elric with one of his old-fashioned euphemisms. I might have rolled my eyes again if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

  “I need to have sex with you in order for you to fix my affinity,” I said. “That’s your proposal that Felix wanted me to consider.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. It just depends on whether you want to walk again.”

  “And I can’t be healed by having sex with my husband?”

  “Not in the shape he’s in. It is a shame you didn’t marry a powerful Fae with an abundance of magic, isn’t it?”

  So there it was: I could remain paralyzed and true to the man I loved or be unfaithful but, in the process, cure myself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A Rock and a Hard Place

  I realized I didn’t have a lot of choices.

  “What about djinn magic?” I asked.

  “We tried that. Don’t you remember?” Elric stared at me, perplexed. “Khaba granted my wish—and now I owe him a favor—even though my wish only lasted a few minutes.”

  I shook my head.

  “Against my express wishes, Vega attempted to resurrect you through electricity. Your husband attempted to pleasure you. Multiple times. Though it weakens him more each time he tries.” Elric watched me, concern in his eyes. “This is the only thing we haven’t tried.”

  It sounded like this was the last-ditch effort to cure me.

  “So this might not work,” I said.

  He lifted his chin. “I am confident it will.”

  I tried to search my brain for another path, but I couldn’t find one. I needed Fae magic. I needed to awaken my affinity with pleasure to cure my paralysis. I wanted to walk and do all the things healthy people could do—like protect myself from soul-sucking raven succubae. I wanted to teach and help protect my students.

  The choice seemed obvious.

  Felix Thatch was a pragmatist. I could understand why he would have told me to consider Elric’s proposal. Having sex was a practical solution. It didn’t mean Thatch had liked the solution.

  It didn’t mean I needed to like it. Only, I was afraid I would, and that would give Elric the wrong idea—and my husband too.

  “You’re doing a favor for me. What’s the price?” I asked.

  He laughed uncomfortably. “Must every favor I grant have a price?”

  Something about the idea of that nudged my brain. After all I had learned about Fae magic, I suspected he did need to ask a price. There was a word for this. A term. “What’s a magical imbalance?”

  Elric stopped massaging me, and then recovered with a laugh. “You needn’t concern yourself over such matters.” He waved me off. “If you must know, the price is that you might enjoy me pleasuring you. Wouldn’t that annoy Thatchy?” He placed his palms on my belly again, massaging through my nightgown. It was disconcerting that I couldn’t feel the pressure.

  “Okay,” I said, mentally fortifying myself for this. “You’ll have to use touch magic to try to heal me.”

  “Just so.”

  Only when his finger brushed along my pubic bone did sensation return. Slowly a rush of warmth flooded through me.

  He smiled like the Cheshire Cat. “There you are. You’re starting to feel like yourself again, I take it.”

  I gasped at the suddenness of the pleasure.

  “Will you give me the honor of pleasuring you properly, as we should have done so long ago?” His eyes shifted from green to the stormy gray of Thatch’s.

  It was hard to focus on his words with
the way his touch distracted me. If it hadn’t been for his eyes momentarily resembling Thatch’s, I might not have been able to formulate my worry into words. “He really knows this is what you intend? He said he’s okay with it?” Thatch had implied it, but I needed to be reassured. I didn’t want him to hate me later. He’d already been so distant.

  “Felix Thatch might be a curmudgeon, but you have, at least, chosen an understanding husband.” He touched the tip of my nose playfully with a finger.

  He was right about Thatch being considerate and understanding. He had given me leave to do this.

  “Yes,” I said. I wanted this. I needed it.

  “You’ll allow me to use your affinity to awaken you if you fall asleep again?” Elric asked.

  “Yes.”

  Elric kissed me deeply. My worries parted like morning mist meeting the warmth of the sun. That emptiness in my core began to fill with magic. I tried to imagine it was Thatch’s hands on me, not Elric’s, but his face kept evaporating from my imagination.

  Elric shifted, one knee nudging my legs apart, his thigh pressed against my groin as he untied the drawstring collar of my nightgown.

  The fabric slid away easily as he parted it. His fingers brushed over my breasts, magic tingling across my flesh. My nipples puckered and hardened.

  He planted kisses against my cheek and neck, working his way lower. The air sparkled around me. It all felt so nice. I wouldn’t have thought of anything other than his mouth on my naked flesh—but then I spotted a gem-encrusted skull decorating the table in the corner.

  It was so tacky. So morbid. So Vega.

  That gave me pause.

  I laced my fingers through his silken locks. “And your wife? She’s understanding?”

  “Don’t worry about Vega. We have an agreement about such matters.”

  I was so far lost in the yearning for touch, I didn’t think I would have been able to refuse him if he had said Vega would rip my eyeballs out for looking at him naked.

  He shrugged out of his clothes, only parting from me long enough to untie the drawstring of his pants. His swollen erection was bigger than I remembered. I wasn’t so far gone that I couldn’t wonder if he’d glamoured himself. He slid between my legs, filling me.

  Magic sparked in my core, molten and burning for more. Surges of electricity tickled from my center and radiated through my veins, bringing sensation back to my body. I felt alive and strong. He set every nerve in my body on fire.

  “Remember to shield yourself to contain your magic.” He thrust into me deeply. “We don’t want one drop escaping.”

  I moaned, already lost to all reason.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A Fae’s Worst Nightmare: Rayon-Nylon Blends

  Elric had never been one to lack servants, but he insisted on dressing me himself. I couldn’t tell if it was because he liked playing dress up, or he didn’t want to stop touching me. He insisted I couldn’t look in the mirror until he was finished with me.

  It was a joy to be able to move again. My limbs were a little stiff, but I felt more normal now. I wasn’t completely whole and recovered. My affinity wasn’t right, but I expected it would eventually return with recharging, just like last time I’d been drained.

  “I can do this myself,” I said as he laced up the back of my stays over a long chemise.

  Elric adjusted the fabric behind me. “Nonsense. If I left you to your own devices you would probably have dressed yourself in something plain and modest.”

  The bodice he laced me into reminded me of the Regency equivalent of a sports bra. The short stays weren’t as restrictive as a corset, but I would have been more at home in a modern bra made from synthetic material.

  We were sheltered from view by the old-fashioned dressing screen if anyone should walk into the room. It wasn’t so different from the Oriental-style one Vega kept in our dorm room back at Womby’s School for Wayward Witches, except the art on the doors of this one didn’t have any birds or insects being impaled by branches. The ornate wood holding the screen of fabric was tastefully decorated with pastel flowers.

  I tugged at the chemise, trying to adjust it under the stays. “This costume is a little bit much, don’t you think?”

  “No. It’s perfect. You deserve to look like a princess.” He kissed my nose.

  I couldn’t meet his eyes as he came around to assist me with the next layer. All I could think about was Thatch. He’d seemed so frail. Even if he hadn’t been capable of using magic to restore me, surely he would resent me. Just because he was practical in his admission that I’d needed Elric’s magic mojo to heal me, he had to be fuming. No wonder he’d been Sir Grumpsalot.

  And then there was the matter of Elric’s price. I didn’t doubt for a minute that there was a bigger price tag than he was letting on.

  Elric chattered away. “Or worse yet, you would have felt obligated to choose from the drab clothes Thatch packed for you. He didn’t bring anything pink for you. Nor did he select one article of clothing with stripes or polka dots, even though he must be quite aware you never go without either.”

  That wasn’t completely true. Occasionally I could live without pink stripes or polka dots.

  “Are you going to tell me what Felix really paid you to cure me?” I asked. My hubby had specifically said something about agreeing to some kind of bargain with Elric—but only if I were cured.

  “He had to give me permission to woo you and see if I could get you to fall in love with me. That’s a nice price.” He winked.

  I rolled my eyes. “What is this? The Two Gentlemen of Verona? You ask his permission, not mine?” That was the most unoriginal bargain ever.

  “I loved Billy Shakespeare!” Elric grinned, missing the point. “Did you know I helped inspire him to write A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

  I considered asking him if he was the chauvinistic ass but decided a snarky comment after he’d just restored me from paralysis didn’t show a lot of gratitude.

  “In any case, only you could truly give consent for that bargain,” Elric said. “As if one ever decides to fall in love. It’s supposed to just happen. That was our problem last time.”

  I couldn’t tell whether he was being sincere or not. Elric and Thatch had played this game once before. Last time around, Thatch had won. During my courtship with Elric, Thatch had been insistent that I not make love to Elric because Fae body fluids were supposedly addictive. I wondered how much truth there was in that.

  I didn’t feel addicted. On the other hand, Elric’s lovemaking had been . . . magical. I didn’t want to compare them in bed, but I could now attest to Elric’s skills.

  Elric held up a pair of pink-striped bloomers, grinning. I had to concede the undergarments were adorable.

  Everything was cotton, but at least it was soft and comfortable, nothing overly flashy like when he’d attired me in dinner clothes made from butterfly wings and magic. Even his brocade robes were less flashy than usual, and he’d dressed himself like a normal person, stepping into his pants one leg at a time.

  Elric walked across the room to the pink dress hanging on the door of the wardrobe. The puff sleeves and Regency-era gown felt out of place with the polka-dot fabric.

  “So what’s up with the crown?” I asked, nodding to the ring of uneven crystals protruding from Elric’s circlet like the spires of an ice castle.

  He patted it, as if having forgotten it was there. “This is just my crown of healing. It’s nothing special. It simply lends me extra strength should I need it.”

  “Did you need that to heal me?”

  “I didn’t need it. I just thought it would help.” He winked at me. “It was to lend me patience since you can be so trying.”

  Two could play at that game. “Uh-huh. You’re starting to sound like Felix. Someone might accuse you two of hanging out together.”

  “That I’ve tried to avoid as much as possible.” He slipped the dress over my head and guided
my arms through the sleeves.

  I remembered the silver streak in Thatch’s hair. “How long was I asleep?”

  “Not long.” It was his turn to avoid my gaze now. “Time is one of those subjective things, especially for Fae. It passes differently for an immortal.”

  My suspicion meter started going off. “How long is ‘not long?’”

  “Felix Thatch can tell you if he chooses. He will fill you in on what has transpired as you slept, after he feels you are ready. Perhaps after he is ready.” He fussed with my sleeves.

  “What do you mean? Why can’t you tell me?” Irritation rose in me. “Why are you being mysterious?”

  “Patience.” He sighed in exasperation. “This is what I needed the crown for, obviously.”

  “Are you saying you’re not going to tell me what happened?”

  “Just so.” He turned me around and buttoned the back of my dress. “Let Thatchy be the one to upset you and make your condition worse.”

  “So if I get upset, it might make me fall asleep again?”

  He finished the last button and kissed the back of my neck. “My hypothesis is that pain is the trigger. Sometimes deep emotional pain can manifest itself in the body, as it has with you.”

  So if I wanted to stay awake, I just needed to have happy, not traumatic thoughts. I could do that. I wanted to go back to teaching and helping my students.

  Doubt wormed under my resolve. If he wasn’t telling me how long had passed, that probably meant something horrible had happened. Years had gone by. Everyone I knew was dead, and I’d slept for years like Rip Van Winkle. Worry needled its way into my muscles, and I noticed the way I clenched my fists, legs, and pelvis.

  Elric massaged my shoulders. “Let that tension melt away.” His voice was melodic, hypnotizing. “Remain calm and tranquil. Think upon watercolors and all the art you could be making.”

  I leaned against him and basked in his touch. He was using muse magic on me. I considered resisting, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to calm myself. I wanted to stay awake and heal.