by Jodi Vaughn
“How did you know I was a witch?” I inhaled deep and looked, really looked at the man.
“I’ve been around enough witches to be able to tell who’s a witch and who’s not.” He scratched his head. “When I first saw your hair I almost had a heart attack. I thought you were another witch I know. Her name is Zelda”
“Well that’s not my name. My name is Ella. Is your witch a good witch or a bad witch?” Despite the pain, I forced my body up into a sitting position and swung my legs off the bed.
“She’s a good witch, of course.” He blinked.
“Well, sugar, I’m a bad witch.” I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping to scare him enough to know he should stay away.
“Oh I don’t think so.” He gave me a gentle smile. His kindness rubbed me the wrong damn way.
“Well, I am. There’s nothing good about me so if you value your life or your jewels…” I dropped my gaze to his crotch for emphasis and narrowed my eyes, “then don’t come near me.”
“But you’re hurt and I’m a doctor.” He insisted.
“Yeah about that. “ I met his gaze. “What kind of doctor are you?” With my luck he was probably a vet.
“I’m a sex therapist.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose again.
“A sex therapist?” I blinked. This night could not get any better. “Are you shitting me?”
“It’s a highly respected occupation.” He lifted his chin and I knew from the tone in his voice that I had hurt his feelings.
I let out a laugh and immediately regretted it. Pain lanced through my body and I cradled my stomach in my hands.
“So you’re a sex therapist who is also a shifter.” I caught his scent and knew he wasn’t human. “Are you a wolf?” My heart sped up waiting for his answer.
“No. I’m a rabbit.”
“A rabbit?” My eyes widened. “A rabbit shifter?” I’d never actually met a rabbit shifter before.
“Please let me look at you. I need to see how badly you’re hurt.” He didn’t wait for my permission but stepped over to the bed and placed his hands gently on my shoulders. I was too caught up in the pain to stop him from easing me back on the bed.
It took several deep breaths to get my pain under control while he placed his fingers on the pulse points on my wrists.
“Heart rate is elevated but that’s to be expected with pain. My concern is that you have internal injuries.” Concern filled his eyes as he held my gaze. “May I please examine the rest of you?”
“Just don’t get all excited and get a boner.” I hissed through my teeth.
He blushed and blinked rapidly. If I hadn’t been in so much pain I would have laughed at how uncomfortable he looked. Odd, considering he was a sex therapist.
“I’m just going to touch your extremities, to check for broken bones.” He gently ran his hands down one arm and then the next. “And now I need to check your legs.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he cleared his throat. Once again he ran his hand from my thighs down to my ankles, first my right, and then my left.
“Nothing feels broken.”
“It’s not my legs or arms that hurt. It’s my stomach.” I hissed out.
“I need to remove your shirt to have a better look.”
“Of course you do.” I sucked in another painful breath.
“I’ve examined females before. I assure you I am a professional.”
I arched my brow. I had no bra on. I never wore bras. I tried one once, it was like putting on a freaking corset. Bras had to have been invented by some man who apparently hated women.
“Fine, whatever, just hurry up.”
He reached for the hem of my shirt and tugged it up over my head. I cried out in pain when he tried to pull my arm through.
“Sorry.” He gave me an apologetic look and wiggled his nose.
“Just leave it.” My shirt was up around my neck like a scarf. I cradled my stomach as I fought to draw a breath. Cool air hit my boobs and my nipples hardened. He might be a doctor but he was a man and men were always affected by a pair of boobs.
I looked up.
He frowned and reached down and pulled my arms away from my stomach.
“I’m going to touch your stomach. There may be some discomfort.” He warned.
His fingers pressed into my flesh. I screamed and nearly came up off the bed.
“That fucking hurts.” I whimpered and protected my stomach with my hands.
He nodded and this time, prodded my stomach again. When he was done he met my gaze.
“I think it’s your spleen. I think you’ve ruptured it.” He frowned and looked down at me. “I don’t know how to help you. You’re a witch, tell me how to help you.” His face was pained as he spoke and something inside my stomach twisted.
“Blood. I need blood.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Blood?” He frowned and he looked like he was trying awfully hard to comprehend my last words. “I’ve never heard of a witch drinking blood.”
“I don’t drink it.” I hissed out the words and met his gaze.
He said nothing.
“I told you I was a different kind of witch.” That much was true.
“Well I’m not here to judge anyone. That’s not who I am.” His gentle words shook me. I cut my eyes up at him.
“Yeah, well you’re the first one I’ve met to ever have that attitude. Either that or you’re lying.” I spat out the words.
“Why would I lie?” He actually had the audacity to seem taken aback.
“I don’t know. Maybe you want to get your hands on my boobs?” I dropped my gaze to the bulge in his pants and managed a shaky smirk despite the pain raging through my body.
He cleared his throat and snatched a file off the desk to cover his erection. He cleared his throat.
It was almost endearing how uncomfortable he was in front of me.
“I am male and looking at a beautiful woman does have an effect on me.” He looked away and blushed.
“I would be more offended if you didn’t get aroused.” I confessed.
He looked back at me wide-eyed.
“I need another ingredient to mix with the blood. But I doubt you can find it.”
“What is it?”
“Coriander.”
He looked at me and blinked. “That’s all you need?”
I looked over at him and frowned. “Yeah. Wait are you saying you have coriander?”
He blushed and nodded. “I bring it with me when I go out of town.”
“Please tell me you don’t have hemorrhoids.” I held my breath and narrowed my eyes at him. “Or worms.”
“Geesh. No, of course not.” He blushed. “I usually take it with me when I travel. Sometimes the food doesn’t agree with me.”
“Coriander helps with upset stomach. I know.” I blew out a breath and relaxed. “It has a lot of uses.”
He walked over to his briefcase and pulled out a little plastic bag of coriander seeds. He walked back to me and handed the bag to me.
I glared at him, my eyes never leaving his. “What do you want in return?”
“Nothing.” He stepped back and shook his head.
“Honey, nothing in this life is free. Everybody wants something. Everyone has a price.”
“Wow, I’m sorry.” His eyes looked sad.
“Sorry for what?” I eased myself up to a sitting positon and focused on breathing through the pain.
“I’m sorry that you have such a negative outlook on life. Must make it hard to trust people.”
“Trusting is a weakness. I’m not weak.” I glared at him.
“Look I’m offering you my blood. You’re hurt and you need it. So please take it.” He implored.
I sat there, my pain all-consuming, to think about my options. Who was I kidding? I had no options.
“It seems that you have the upper hand, Rabbit.”
“The name’s Roger.” He nodded.
“Fine, Roger.” I held his gaze. “I’l
l take your blood on one condition.”
“But I don’t want anything.” He insisted and shook his head looking flustered.
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Like you said, you’re a male and I’m a beautiful woman.” I held out my hand hoping I had just enough magic left in me to look inside his head.
“Let me see your hand.”
“You’ll need something to cut my skin with first. Let me look in my briefcase. I may have a letter opener…”
I grabbed his hand before he could move.
Brief flashes and images of naked bodies filled my brain. I opened his eyes and met his gaze. A smile crossed my lips.
“You might look all uptight in your dressy clothes, but I’m willing to bet you are quite the freak in the sheets.”
He blinked then blushed and took a step back averting my gaze. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“I do have enough magic for one little gift of mine.” I grinned and tapped the side of my head. “You have a lot of juicy images running around up there, Roger.”
He jerked his head up in my direction. “Did you just read my mind?”
“You got it sugar.” I smirked. I couldn’t help but take a little pleasure at his discomfort.
“That’s very impolite. I thought women from the south were full of charm and manners.” He crossed his arms and pressed his pretty lips into a thin line.
“I’m more of a steel magnolia myself.” I snorted.
“Ah, so you’re from Mississippi.” He arched his eyebrow suddenly seeming very interested in where I lived.
“I didn’t say that.” I spoke a little too quickly.
“Louisiana?”
“Why are you so interested in where I’m from?”
“I’m not. But you really shouldn’t have read my mind like that. I mean, some things are private.” He crossed his arms over his chest and studied the floor. His face was red and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment.
I gritted my teeth. If I was going to heal, I was going to need his help and his blood.
“I’m s-s-sorry.” I didn’t say those words very much and they hurt coming out of my mouth.
He jerked his head up and looked at me. “Bet that was hard to say.”
“You have no idea.”
“Oh I do. Like I said, you’re not the only witch I know with red hair.” He snorted and uncrossed his arms. “So are you going to take my blood or not?” He stepped closer, but this time didn’t shove his sleeve up.
I wanted to scream at him for being so damn nice. I couldn’t even be grateful for his help. Instead I resented that he had something I needed. I hated relying on people.
Nothing in life was free. People always wanted something in return.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Fine. Give me your arm.” I glanced at his briefcase. “And your letter opener.”
He nodded and quickly went about his business of picking up his brown leather briefcase off the floor. He sat it on the desk and flipped it open, rummaging through papers until he brought out a silver letter opener.
He walked over and offered me the letter opener and shoved his sleeve up on his arm.
I took it and snorted with derision. “Why do you even need a letter opener? You do realize people don’t use these anymore. They just tear open the letter with their fingers.”
“I’m not like most people. I like a clean cut when opening my mail. ” He retorted.
“I’m not trying to judge. You should be yourself. Don’t try to change for someone else.” I gave a little shrug and took his offered arm.
“Is that what you’re doing? Being yourself?” He cocked his head, assessing me in a way that had my guard up.
I took a deep breath, which made my stomach hurt like a mother, and closed my mouth and refused to answer his question. I sprinkled the coriander across my stomach. I gripped the letter opener in one hand and tightened my grip on his arm.
“This might hurt a little.” I slashed across his forearm intentionally missing the artery in his wrist.
He sucked in a breath but didn’t utter a word. He suffered in silence as his blood pooled and dripped from his arm.
My eyes were glued to the oozing cut, hypnotized by the way his blood fell, thick and warm, to the floor.
I leaned back in the bed, closed my eyes and held his bleeding arm against my stomach, to cover the coriander. I need to feel the warmth against my skin, knowing that it would soon heal me. My lips moved silently as I whispered the words of the spell.
I heard a grunt and opened my eyes. Roger stood hunched over me, as I clutched his bloodied arm to my chest.
I scooted over on the bed. “You can lie down.”
“I promise no funny business,” he said sighing with relief and sinking into the bed.
“Well I can’t promise that.” I smirked.
I felt him stiffen in the bed next to me. I could tell the rabbit shifter was attracted to me. But he was too busy trying to maintain the image of a professional to try anything. He was a pretender, like so many others.
I closed my eyes relaxing under the warmth of the blood healing my body.
“How does it work?” He whispered. “How does the blood make you heal if you don’t drink it?”
“It’s a blood magick spell.” I opened my eyes and turned my head to study the man beside me. “All I know is that the blood of a paranormal creatures having healing properties.”
“That’s very curious.”
“We’re done talking about me.” My body nearly hummed as the blood spilled over and soaked the sheets. It had done its job. It had healed my pain and, with any luck, bought me a few more days of freedom.
But there was one more thing I needed to try out.
I released his arm and eased up to a sitting position.
“You’re healed.” He smiled and nodded.
“I am.” The pain was gone, and in its place, power vibrated through my veins. I shoved my shirt down to cover my bloodied nakedness.
He stood and held his hand out to me.
“Thanks bunny man, but I can stand by myself.” I was relieved that I didn’t have to rely on his help. “I guess I should thank you.” I met his gaze.
“You don’t owe me anything, Ella.” He shook his head.
“You know I saw inside your head right?” I arched my brow.
“I’m aware.’ He grimaced and looked away.
When he glanced back, I saw the way he looked at me. The way a tiny flicker of lust flashed through those big eyes of his. I knew what he wanted.
I stepped closer and his gaze landed on my chest and then away. I glanced down and smiled. The blood had soaked my T-shirt and my nipples strained against the cotton. I looked like a vampires’ wet T-shirt fantasy.
“I need to repay you for your trouble.” I glanced down at his arm and frowned. Blood flowed from the cut without any sign of stopping.
“You’re still bleeding pretty badly. I can’t heal you. I don’t have that kind of power.” Guilt nudged at my gut but I quickly pushed it away. I was a survivor, always had been always will be. And guilt had no place in my heart.
“It’s fine. It’s not that deep.” He glanced down and covered the wound with his hand.
“Wait a minute. You’re going to need more than that to stop the flow.” I shook my head headed toward the bathroom. I snatch a washcloth off the counter and turn on the water. I held it under the water until it was soaked. Then I snatched up a dry hand towel and headed back toward Roger.
“Let me clean it off first and then I’ll bandage it.” I took his arm none too gently and swiped at the blood. After I was satisfied I wrapped up his arm in the towel.
“You could use some stitches.” I frowned. I hadn’t realized I cut so deep.
“Nah. It will heal. If it doesn’t then I know a witch who can heal it for me.” His warm smile had me on edge.
“Good. I need to be going.”
“Right now? From the
way you were running, I’m guessing you don’t have a car. And
even if you did, you can’t go anywhere dressed like that. You look like you stepped out of a slasher movie.” He motioned to my blood soaked shirt.
“Do you have any extra clothes?” I looked around for a suitcase and spotted a small bag near the dresser.
“Yes, but only button up shirts. They’ll be way too big on you.” He shrugged. “I can go buy you something in the morning when the stores open.
“How far is the nearest shop?” I walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back with my finger. The security light in the parking lot cast its hard yellow glow against the torrential rainfall.
“About a ten minute drive. I saw some really nice boutiques when I passed through.”
“Don’t bother.” My elation at being healed was tempered by the prospect of not having any funds at my disposal. “I don’t have any money. I’ll just glamour a human who wears the same size into giving me their clothes.” I nodded and stepped away from the window and looked at him. “Have you noticed any females staying at this motel?”
“Well only two.” He frowned. “One was an elderly woman wearing a muumuu.”
I cringed. “I’d rather wear a garbage bag. What about the other woman?” I still held out hope.
“She’s your age but I’m afraid her clothes won’t fit you.” He glanced away. “She’s probably a hundred pounds heavier.”
“Perfect. This night just keeps getting better and better.” I went to the bed and plopped myself down. I needed a plan and needed it quick.
“Where are you traveling to?”
I quickly sat up and narrowed my eyes at the rabbit shifter. “Where are you traveling to?”
“I’m here for a convention.”
“At this hotel?” I arched my brow in disbelief.
“No” he laughed. “The convention is in the city. But the hotels were all sold out and this motel was the closest I could find. So I’m staying here and traveling back and forth.” He shrugged. “It gives me some quiet time away from all the other doctors.”
“So you’re here for a sex therapist convention.” I nodded. “That would explain the images I saw in your head. For a minute I thought you were some kind of nymphomaniac.”