Mohegan: A Siren's Spell Romance

by Stella Marie Alden

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mohegan.

  I can’t believe how badly I underestimated that spell. I’ve seen some pretty fucked up magic but never anything like that. I’m surprised Eduda didn’t see it coming, either.

  I’m still shaken up when he pulls into the private airport where our jet is parked, engines roaring. My beautiful, brave witch doesn’t stir when I lift her into my arms and take her up the steps. She even stays asleep when I buckle her in and kiss her on the forehead.

  Dammit. I almost got her killed.

  Our captain waits for Eduda, closes the latch, and we’re off. Then I take a seat and order a drink from our stewardess while my grandfather eases down into a leather chair next to me.

  “What the fuck happened?” Dark eyes gleam over the tops of his ancient cheek bones making him appear more warrior clan than healer.

  “Wish I knew. On the surface, the spell didn’t look all that bad, and I took the proper precautions. I gave Olivia a gun. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t even know spells like that existed. I thought The Guild locked everything away centuries ago. How the hell did they get their hands on it?”

  That awful moment she died replays in my mind’s eye and I’m certain it will haunt me forever. My heart races and I turn to make sure she’s okay but she’s still fine, sleeping soundly.

  Eduda leans back, sighs, and takes a good swallow of whiskey. “I’m not sure but we’ll get to the bottom of it. I promise you.”

  “Goddess willing.” But I can’t help but wonder if we bit off more than we can chew.

  Eventually the alcohol calms me as the plane gains altitude and my ears pop. When we level off my grandfather says off-handedly. “Well, we got the results we were looking for. I got a name.”

  I jump to attention. I thought the night was a complete wash out.

  “Who is it?”

  “She goes by Mia Labeau. Even from a distance, I could see her aura light up the night after you closed the blinds and started the ritual.”

  “My God. How close was she?”

  “Just outside, playing volleyball.”

  I try to picture the game in my head but come up empty. “Did her face show up on any of our databases?”

  “No. But we got an address from the license plate on her rental.”

  The airplane hits turbulence, and Olivia opens her eyes. Still naked and wrapped in a blanket, she stares my way as if I might go postal. While I don’t blame her at all, it makes me feel like shit.

  When Olivia sent her life’s last healing forces into me, she sent me off a cliff and I’m still falling. Now she’s my breath, my life. I feel her in the deepest recesses of my soul. If love is the deepest kind of magic, I’m totally under her spell. Thank God, I can hide my aura or she’d know how I feel in an instant and that’s no good.

  The only reason she made love with me is because of that instant-lust magic her mother gave her. Now that it’s gone, she’s watching my every move like I’m some kind of vampire, ready to suck her soul.

  I keep seeing her on that makeshift altar and it blows my mind. While I chanted out that French curse, I wasn’t trying to kill her, I was trying to have her, to own her, to be one with her. It was so damn consuming. I had no idea it was killing her. A weak witch hooked on fentanyl wouldn’t have a chance in hell of stopping in time. No wonder the houses have evil auras.

  The purity of the white clouds outside the plane serve as a direct contrast to me. I am the lowest scum of the earth. As proof, my aura is mostly black.

  After about an hour, my grandfather rises out of his chair, talks to Olivia, and she goes back to sleep. Dammit. That should be me consoling her. I wonder if she’ll ever talk to me again.

  After we land, it takes about thirty minutes to get to downtown New Orleans where I book us in an old hotel just off the French Quarter. It’s nice but not touristy enough to be crowded.

  Almost immediately, Eduda sets out to ask questions in some of the local dives. We agreed that the best course of action is to find a voodoo coven that’s familiar with The Guild and ask for help. If anyone knows how to locate Labeau, they will.

  Despite my pleas to stay put, Olivia heads out with him, saying the coven will be more likely to trust a woman. She’s probably right but it pisses me off. I wanted her tucked in by nine, asleep by ten.

  To tell the truth, I’m just about ready to call Fialko and have him deal with her. No doubt that’ll put the final nail in our relationship but I can’t bear to put her in more danger.

  Damn it. Things were fine until Eduda broke the instant-lust spell.

  Love sucks.

  When they leave, I take off on my own, cross Bourbon Street, and into a bar where the people speak mostly Cajun. A middle-aged guy with a sax plays a soulful tune, some blues number. There’s a good standup bass and a guitar player, too.

  I order a drink feeling sorry for myself while the horn player picks up the microphone. He croons about how bad it is to lose a woman who thinks you did her wrong.

  Ain’t that the truth.

  After a few drinks, a young, brown woman in jeans and t-shirt sits next to me at the bar. Her hair is grown out into a large ’fro. “Warlock?”

  I wait until I’m sure she’s not going to rob me or kill me before I admit to anything. “No. Witch.”

  “Hmm… Whatcha’ll doin’ in my bar?” A couple of two-hundred-pound thugs sit down on newly vacated stools on either side of us.

  I pretend not to notice. “I’m drinkin’.”

  She whispers into my ear. “Word is, you might be needin’ some information that I might be willin’ to sell.”

  This could be a trap. It’s happened often enough before and frankly, I’m still pretty rattled from last night.

  I’ve obviously not been at my best. “Get lost. You got the wrong guy.”

  “Nyuh-uh. You’re trying to hide your aura but I sees it.”

  I study her aura, how she shimmers but not by much. Probably she had a grandmother that was a full-blooded witch, maybe not even. She might be just the one I’m looking for, out of the inner circle and yet able to help.

  “I’m looking for a drug dealer. A woman. Goes by Labeau.” I say this for her ears only.

  Even so, her face pales. “Shit.”

  “Hold on. I’m willing to pay.” I pull out my wallet but she pushes my hand away.

  “She everywhere. Knows everybody, everyt’ing. Sorry I bothered you, man.” Slipping off her chair, she nods at her two guys and almost gets away but I grab her hand

  “Wait.” When I’m sure she isn’t going to scurry away, I scribble my personal cell number on the back of one of my cards. “Call me or stop by. I promise to make it worth your while.”

  “Maybe.” My card slips into her back pocket. “Best you go, now, stranger. Okay? Trouble’s about to find you.”

  “Actually, I’m counting on it.” This, I say to myself because she’s already out the door and disappeared into the gathering crowd.

  I sense rather than see the next witch that enters the bar. When she sits, her tight skirt slides up her thigh as she crosses her long, brown legs. Her high cheekbones could be Haitian or Jamaican.

  “I understand you’ve been asking for me?” Ordering a Tanqueray and Tonic, she eyes me as if I’m spicy gumbo.

  “Maybe.” I let her see my aura and she gasps.

  “Fuck.”

  Grinning, I clamp onto her bare thigh, thumb rubbing high. “I will if you want, honey. Usually I prefer a couple drinks, first.”

  “Cocky bastard.” She pushes my hand down to her knee but leaves it there which I take as a really good sign.

  “I’m guessing you’d be Ms. Labeau.”

  “And you the warlock dey all talkin’ about.”

  “Depends. What’ve you heard?”

  The woman, about my age, leans forward to adjust the strap on her shoes. Bra-less, her loose shirt leaves nothing for the imagination so I stare appreciatively at the free show.

 
The role of arrogant thug, I know all too well.

  Grabbing the back of my head, she brings my face to her chest and hisses, “I heard that you killed Fialko’s healer in Florida.”

  “No shit. No wonder she tasted so good.” I stand, walk in front of the musicians and throw a few bucks in their jar.

  When I come back, as I expected, she’s still there, staring at my aura intently. “You took everything from her before you killed her?”

  “Sure, I did. That was some spell you guys sent me.” I let out a low whistle.

  When she doesn’t say anything more, I check my emails and play on the web until she clears her throat in an irritated manner and starts to leave.

  I reach out and grab her arm. “Listen, I came out here to make you an offer. You interested or not?”

  “What is it?” Brown eyes thickly lined with black mascara scrutinize me closely.

  “Me.”

  Her drink spurts out of her mouth and onto my shirt as she laughs. “You think pretty highly of yourself, warlock. What did you say your name was?”

  Holding out my hand, I give her a wink, “Mohegan.”

  “As in Mohegan Securities.” Her brows furrow and she shakes her head as if not believing me.

  “Well, that’s my grandfather. He and I don’t get along so well. A difference in opinion about ethics, some might say.” The drink in front of me empties and I raise my hand at the bartender to order another.

  Then, a trumpet player joins the trio playing Dixieland making it too loud to speak. When they stop, we applaud, and she says, “I see. Exactly what are you offering?”

  “My sperm.” I grin, opening my legs wide so she can see the outline of my dick.

  “Jesus.”

  “Nope. Not him. Just me. Now listen. You’re a witch with great power but if you don’t find a great guy like me, who knows how your offspring will turn out. This is a win-win situation.”

  The thin plastic straw in her drink turns red from her lipstick as she bites down. “What’s in it for you?”

  “Cash honey. Cold hard cash.” I finish my drink, swirling the ice, watching her aura flare.

  As she considers my proposition, her mouth purses, while two full choruses of ‘Won’t you Come Home Bill Bailey’ play on.

  “That’s a rather cold offer.”

  It’s clear to me she’s taken the bait so I chuckle. “What? Need me to wine and dine you first? I can do that.”

  Her corona flickers in a deep shade of orange as she looks me up and down and licks her lower lip. “You’re a fine specimen, Mohegan. I’ll consider your offer. Put in your number.” She hands me her phone but I push it back.

  “I’m staying at the Q and C. Ask for me at the front desk but don’t take too long to make up your mind, darlin’. I got other fish to fry. You just happen to be the biggest.”

  She slips off the chair, kisses me hard on the lips and grips my balls so hard my eyes water.

  “Hope you can get it up, sugar. If not, there’s a sperm bank in town. You can ejaculate for me into a cup.”

  With that final note, she’s gone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Olivia

  I’m asleep the second my body hits the mattress but moments later I wake when a booming loudspeaker outside announces cars exiting a garage.

  No wonder the place isn’t booked.

  All night long the amplifier broadcasts as I toss and turn, my brain in overdrive.

  Earlier, Mohegan’s grandfather and I tried asking questions in every bar in the French Quarter with absolutely no luck. No one’s ever heard of a woman named Labeau or a self-professed, voodoo witch. By three, it was time to call it a night, or rather a morning.

  I only hope Mohegan had better luck.

  Dammit. Just the thought of him makes my heart long for things I’d given up on years ago. I was so sure, once the lust spell was gone, I’d get back to normal but it’s only worse. Clearly, I’ve fallen in love and that hasn’t happened since I was fifteen. Back then, the object of my affection was the captain of the football team. He was miles above me in the teenage-hierarchy but I was clueless.

  I stalked him until I memorized his schedule. I even penned a heart with our initials into a desk where he sat later in the afternoon. A couple weeks passed before I caught him in the hall, staring at me through the classroom window. I held my breath and waited for him to wave and acknowledge my undying love. Instead, he pointed me out to a couple of his buddies and they all started laughing hysterically, poking each other in the ribs.

  Wishing the floor would swallow me up, I officially gave up on love that day. Eventually, I grew out of my awkward looks but the damage was done. I graduated magna cum laude with a pre-med degree and an MBA and settled in south Jersey, happily running my herbal tea shop.

  Whenever I need sex, I got plenty of friends-with-benefits. Up until now, this has suited me just fine.

  God damn the witch. He makes me want more but I need to grow up. He slept with Mrs. Levy like it was no big deal, like it wouldn’t matter to me. True, I gave my okay but I didn’t think he’d really do it. And why was he so cold at the airport? At least Holiday and my mom are friends. Am I doomed to have sex with an angry stranger the rest of my life?

  What the hell?

  Sometime near dawn, the door to our collective suite quietly opens and shuts. Water runs in the shower and I picture his hard body, beads running down his abs, over his navel and…

  Argh! I punch my pillow for the thousandth time, twist in the sheets, and stare up at the ceiling. I should’ve insisted on my own room. This is insane.

  Once again, the parking garage speaker blares, “Attention, attention, a driver is exiting the garage.”

  Oh, for crying out loud. I give up on sleep, take a quick shower, and dress. Then, I join Mohegan and his grandfather in the small kitchen area. Desperate for caffeine, I put a pod into the tiny, plastic coffee machine, pour in water, and wait. Two minutes later, coffee fills my cup, I sip, and swallow. After adding six dry packets of cream, I sit with the two arguing men at the table.

  Eduda slices the air with his hands, his aura spiking in oranges and yellows. “It’s too damn risky.”

  “There’s no other way.” Mohegan grimaces and rakes his fingers through his wet hair. The dark circles under his eyes are proof that like me, he’s not been sleeping well.

  “Son, you’re not thinking. This is pure foolishness.” The older man leans across the table, glaring at the younger who fumes.

  Their pent-up silence seems to last forever and someone has to say something so I barge in cheerily, “Good morning. What’s up?”

  Eduda sighs and tosses his head in the direction of his grandson. “He thinks he can get close to Labeau by offering to get her pregnant.”

  Whaaat? I scoot my chair around, to better stare at the man formerly in-lust with me.

  Instead of making a total fool of myself, I speak with all the sincerity I can muster. “It sounds like a perfectly valid plan.”

  “You’re fine with me fucking her?” Mohegan purses his lips and his brows furrow but I refuse to show him how much this hurts. It’s too damn embarrassing.

  “Why wouldn’t I? What’s the difference? You fucked Mrs. Levy, didn’t you? You’re free to do whatever you want.” Under the table, I dig my fingernails into my palms until that pain is more than the one settling deep in my chest.

  Mohegan slams both palms down, stands, and shouts, “Fine. It’s settled.”

  “Fine.” I rise with my chin jutted out and give him the evil eye.

  “Enough!” We both jump when Eduda’s fists hit the table, toppling my empty Styrofoam cup.

  He glowers over his noble, ancient nose. “When I come back, I sure as hell better see two damn auras glowing in harmony. Grow up. Both of you.”

  After the door to the suite slams shut, I feel like a complete shit. Mohegan turns inward, his lips at his mug, sipping coffee.

  I’d rather strip off my clothes and stan
d naked before an audience of strangers then to tell him how I feel.

  Whatever.

  Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, and let my aura out.

  He gasps. I know what he’s seeing. There’s deep purples of hope, reds of lust with spikes of passion in a rainbow array that some witches would call love.

  “Open your eyes, Liv. Look at me. I didn’t sleep with Mrs. Levy.” Warm hands cover mine and I shiver more than the first day we met.

  Fearing the worst, I avoid his aura and focus on beautiful brown eyes so filled with emotion that liquid pools. Slowly, I open up my senses to more.

  Oh my God.

  His corona is stunning. Lust in a velvety layer of black swirls with stripes of bright lavender. There’s a storm brewing near his navel, much like the eye of Jupiter. But what makes my knees weak are the colors so similar to mine.

  He cares for me.

  The girls between my legs cheer and swell, soaking my underwear.

  “Mohegan…” Words fail as I take his outstretched hand and get pulled inside his warm, tight, embrace.

  His voice rumbles in his chest. “I had no fucking idea.”

  “I thought…” My mind goes blank when his mouth covers mine, his beard tickles my chin, and his hands press into the small of my back.

  He takes the kiss deeper, our noses rub, and he presses one knee up against my desire. I rock against him as my hands slide over the firm muscles of his back. Greedy for more of him, I pull his shirt over his head so fast that seams split. After, I’m free to caress my palms over his chest, loving the fine hairs, the buttons of his nipples, and the bumps defining his sculptured abs.

  When his tongue asks for entrance, I joyfully open, wanting to join in all ways. He matches my need and with a low growl, cups my butt and lifts me. Automatically, my arms wrap around his neck and legs lock at his waist while he carries me to his bed.

  “Olivia. You make me fucking crazy.” He sits me on the edge of the bed while he stands between my legs, his swollen bulge right in front of my face.

  After pressing a kiss below his navel, I unfasten his top button, unzip his fly, and reach inside his underwear. It’s incredible how without magic, I can do this to him. Before my fingers can wrap around him, he gently grabs my wrists, tugs off my t-shirt and pushes me onto my back.