Toil And Trouble, A Paranormal Romance (Jolie Wilkins)

by H. P. Mallory

  I stood up and inhaled deeply.

  “What … what happened?” Rand asked as he stood behind me.

  I didn’t turn around but just continued staring out the window as I felt his hand on my waist, caressing it. “We bonded, Rand. Do you know what that means?”

  “No.”

  I offered him a small smile. “When two witches love one another, the ultimate show of their love is bonding which means they become one—they can hear each other’s thoughts.”

  He nodded. “I could feel your fear and hear your voice in my head.”

  “Yes,” I said, pausing for a moment as I tried to put all of this into perspective. “Our magic is bonded, as well. We are both more magically powerful now.”

  There was so much more to explain. I selectively omitted the part about dying when eternally separated from your lover because I didn’t want to destroy the mood. And then, it dawned on me. I remembered when Rand told me he’d nearly been killed and driven mad by the death of the one woman he’d loved and whom he’d bonded with ... It was like slow motion as I realized that woman had been me. Even though I hadn’t technically died, our eternal separation had been enough to nearly kill him. Mathilda had wiped all the memories of me from Rand’s consciousness in order to save him when I had to leave, to return to my own time. The realization was one that brought tears to my eyes and my knees felt as if they’d buckle.

  “Are you alright, my love?” Rand whispered while running his fingers down my waist. He lifted my leg up so it rested on the arm chair and I could feel his penis hardening as it lay against my thigh. I blinked the tears from my eyes and leaned back against him, relishing the moment.

  “If we are truly bonded,” he whispered, bringing goose bumps to my neck, “I want to know your feelings when I am inside you.”

  I didn’t say anything but allowed my tears to flow, knowing I couldn’t tell him what would happen—that he would nearly die because of me.

  I responded to his finger inside me like a reflex. If there was to be any consolation, it was knowing that Rand would survive our separation; Mathilda would see to it. My breath caught in my throat as he positioned himself to enter me, pushing his shaft within me deep and hard. And sex had never felt like this—I was in his mind, feeling my tightness and wetness surrounding him and he was experiencing my own sensations. We were one, his thoughts meshed with mine, his emotions the same as mine.

  When both of us came, our orgasms exploded into one, and I had to stabilize myself against the chair so I wouldn’t collapse on the floor. It was a feeling I couldn’t even begin to describe—just emotion, raw and limitless.

  “I love you, Jolie,” he whispered.

  ~

  I awoke to gentle snoring. I tried to roll over but Rand’s arm across my chest prevented me. I smiled as I recalled the events of the night before and I’d never been happier—having slept off a night of lovemaking, bonded to the one man I could honestly say I loved more than any other.

  “Are you awake?” I whispered.

  “I am fast asleep,” he muttered, his face pressed against my breasts. He opened his eyes and smiled. “Hmm, but these tempting breasts might be reason to wake.”

  I laughed and he sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching. “Good morning,” I said.

  “Good morning, my love,” he answered, planting a kiss on my forehead. His fingers resumed tracing my already perky nipples. “What shall we do to amuse ourselves this glorious day?”

  I reclined into the mound of pillows, enjoying the attention he was paying to my breasts. Then I was struck as if by a lightning bolt sent by the Responsibility God, to find Mercedes and tell her I’d convinced Rand I really was a witch. We could get started conjuring up the magic that would send me home. A feeling of emptiness lodged in my stomach as I realized I didn’t want to leave Rand.

  “We should talk to Mercedes,” I said, my voice hollow.

  He cocked a brow, his handsome face suddenly serious. “Why?”

  “To tell her we can rely on your magic now, in addition to ours.” Well, that is if he agreed to help us. I hadn’t exactly asked him that. “You will help me?” I inquired doubtfully.

  “Assist in sending you away from me?” he asked, his shoulders rigid and his mouth a mere straight line, revealing no emotions. But I could read his feelings like an open book. He definitely had reservations when it came to sending me back. I had to wonder if some of those reservations weren’t me just realizing my own feelings.

  I dropped my attention to my hands, realizing what I’d just admitted—that I would leave him. A feeling of desperation welled up inside me at the very thought of it. I knew the Rand of my own time would have no recollection of what had happened between us in his past. No recollection of the fact that he’d been bonded to me.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Rand looked outside the window and his eyes took on a faraway gaze, as if he wasn’t really seeing the scenery outside. “When we were at Mathilda’s and you were explaining how it was that Ms. Berg found you in the snow, you said you were in the throes of being … stabbed?”

  I nodded, sensing where the conversation was headed. Rand stroked my hair and I closed my eyes, savoring his touch. Was it terribly wrong that I wanted to have him inside me again?

  “Does that mean, then,” he paused and I realized he’d received my lustful thoughts. His hands toyed with my nipples as he fought to regain his train of thought. “Does this mean you will be thrown into harm’s way when you return?”

  Since even I didn’t know the answer to that question, I did my best to shield him from my own sense of doubt. I wasn’t sure if it worked. “When I explained the situation to Mercedes, I told her I needed to return a few seconds earlier to spare me from Gwynn’s blade.”

  Rand’s face was stoic, as if chiseled out of stone. He stopped playing with my hair and I was aware his feelings ran counter to wanting to help me, feelings that, instead, wanted only to protect me.

  “You do not know for certain the situation will unfold as you wish it to.”

  “No, not for certain.” I shook my head; there was no use in lying. I didn’t know what would happen, what to expect. All I did know was that I had to return and that I’d have to take Mercedes with me—to end the Underworld war.

  He was quiet for a long minute, and when I tried to read him, I encountered a wall. So he could block his thoughts from me. Interesting.

  “Can today be ours alone?” he started. “Must you seek Mercedes?”

  I shook my head, wanting only to remain here with him—holding him, touching him, loving him. “It can probably wait another day.”

  He smiled down at me and looped my hair around his thumb and forefinger, wetting his lips with his tongue.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked, my stomach buzzing with excitement.

  “I require nothing more than a day with the woman I love,” he started before a sinister smile engulfed his face, “in bed.”

  I giggled. “And what of Pelham and Christine? What will we tell them?”

  He shrugged and leaned down, kissing me. I closed my eyes to enjoy every second of him, every inch of his soft lips and the way his sensations to our kiss reciprocated through me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to this bonding thing, but it was fun to try.

  Rand pulled away and began playing with my hair again. “We will tell them nothing. It is none of their business.”

  “And when they come looking for us?” I continued, playing devil’s advocate.

  “They will not,” he replied with raised brows and a deep smile. “We will use our magic to prevent them from even thinking of us.”

  Hmm, didn’t sound like a bad plan, actually.

  I toyed with the corner of the blanket covering us when it suddenly occurred to me that I’d never gotten the full story regarding Sinjin.

  “Rand?” I started.

  “Hmm?” he responded, glancing up at me with a smile as his hand found the inside of my thigh.<
br />
  “What really happened with Sinjin Sinclair?”

  The happy expression on Rand’s face fell and I almost regretted asking. Rand sighed and pushed himself into more of a seated position beside me.

  “Sinjin Sinclair is a vampire,” he said.

  “Yes, I know.”

  Rand flashed me an expression of surprise. “You are acquainted with him?”

  I nodded. “I’ve always wondered why you hated him so much.”

  “Well, there is not much to describe regarding the beginning of our liaison. Sinjin, being the opportunistic bastard he is, desired that he and I should become a team, separating ourselves from the Underworld community. He possessed high hopes of using our incredible strength and powers to force the other creatures, and humans as well, to bend to our rule. As you can well imagine, I refused, wanting nothing to do with him. But rather than leaving the situation well enough alone, Sinjin went after Christine.”

  “He attempted to seduce her to get back at you for refusing his offer?”

  “Yes,” he sighed deeply and dropped his attention to the window. He was quiet for a moment before facing me again. “That is all there is to tell of Sinjin.”

  I nodded, finally understanding Rand’s anger towards the vampire. And I couldn’t say I blamed him. By every angle, Sinjin certainly appeared the villain. I had to wonder, though, could people change? Or was he, deep down, the same person he always had been?

  ~

  Later that evening, Rand left me to my seclusion. There was a carefree joy inside me that had never been there before—a feeling of fullness and gratification. We had consummated our love so many times I’d lost count, but that wasn’t even the best part. Knowing Rand loved me and I loved him, that he’d given himself to me in the way I’d always wanted him to—that was the best part. Even though this wasn’t the Rand of my time, it was Rand all the same.

  Then, as quickly as the incredible sense of happiness surrounded me, it was eclipsed by extreme sorrow. I had to leave him; I had to return to my own time. And who knew what that would mean—would I be able to escape Gwynn’s blade or would I be sending myself back to experience my own death?

  I forced the thoughts from my mind. I had to return; that’s all there was to it. There was no use worrying about the what ifs.

  I stood up and stretched, taking my nightgown off a nearby chair. I pulled it over my shoulders, all the while watching the moon disappear behind the clouds. A glow of light from the ground diverted my attention. Mercedes was right below my window, in front of the grove of elm trees. The candlelight illuminated the contours of her face. I swallowed dryly and sighed, knowing I had to speak with her. All I wanted to do was to curl up in my bed and await Rand’s return. Instead, I magicked myself into my lumberjack outfit and headed for the stairs. I met with no one along the way. When I opened the door and walked outside, only the icy cold of the air greeted me. I hurried around a corner, feeling along the stone façade of Pelham Manor.

  “I wondered how long it would take you to come,” Mercedes said, not glancing up from whatever it was she was doing. She held the white candle in her hand, which dimly highlighted her movements.

  I remained standing with my arms crossed over my chest, and watched her draw a large circle around herself in the dirt, using a sword. As she drew the circle, she repeated: “north, south, east, west” followed by “earth” and she scooped up a mound of dirt, allowing it to fall on the ground again. When she uttered the word “water,” a stream of clear drops fell from her palm, into the mound of earth. At the word “fire,” her candle increased its flame tenfold, only to die down again. And when she said “air,” a strong wind blew past us, dislodging plenty of leaves from the elms but never blowing the candle’s flame out.

  Then she held the candle with both hands and addressed the heavens, closing her eyes. “And the Goddess,” she chanted.

  Nothing changed with the mention of the Goddess. My teeth chattered as I waited for her to finish, but rather than interrupt her, I just observed. She clenched her eyes tight as she held the candle between both hands. The flame increased in height, then diminished again, as if ghosts were playing with it. Several minutes must have passed before Mercedes opened her eyes again and offered me a smile, blowing the candle out.

  “What was all this about?” I asked.

  Mercedes dropped the candle into her circle and it disappeared into the earth. She lifted the sword and closed her eyes, as it too disappeared from her grip. “I was calling on the Goddess to advise me when we should attempt our return to your time.”

  I nodded, unable to shake the feeling of dread. I didn’t want to leave—that was now more obvious than ever. I wanted to stay here, with Rand. I hated the idea of leaving him to face his fate, knowing what that would mean—that it would nearly kill him. But I couldn’t tell Mercedes. I didn’t think she’d understand, especially since my staying in this time meant her demise. Ergh … talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  “And what day did the Goddess decide?” I asked, ignoring my private thoughts for the moment.

  “The twenty-sixth of December.”

  I felt my stomach drop. That was just two days away. I’d only have two more days of bliss with Rand. And then, Poof! It would be over.

  “Are you sure that’s the right date?” I mean, it wasn’t like the heavens had opened up and a little Goddess figure had said: “Yep, you’re gonna be gettin’ outta here on December 26th.”

  Mercedes frowned as she destroyed her circle by muddying up the lines with the toe of her shoe. “Yes, I am certain.”

  “Well, it doesn’t leave us much time to practice, does it?” I demanded, hating the idea that I had such little time left.

  She shook her head. “This spell does not require practice. It only requires enough magic to make it plausible.”

  I had no answer for that so, instead, I watched her start walking in the direction of Pelham Manor and followed her, suddenly remembering a question I’d been meaning to ask her. “How is it that Mathilda and Pelham didn’t know who I was when I first met them, considering I’d met them in 1878?”

  Mercedes didn’t glance back, but continued her hurried pace. “When we enter your time, magic will rinse the memories of everyone who knows you now.”

  I frowned, not completely sure I followed. “So Christine, Pelham, Rand, and Mathilda …”

  “Will not remember you.”

  “Why?” I asked, my stomach dropping.

  “It is too dangerous to allow others to know we can manipulate time. As a precaution, we eliminate that knowledge.”

  “But Mathilda nurses Rand back to health when he nearly dies from our separation,” I started.

  “Yes, she does but she does not know the details of who you are. She just knows she must help heal him.” She turned to face me, throwing her hands on her hips. “Does Rand know you are a witch?”

  “Yes, he believes me now,” I answered in a monotone, my stomach cringing at the very mention of it. It was a deep, hollow feeling of incredible sadness.

  “And has he agreed to perform the magic with us?” Mercedes continued, glancing back at me as the moonlight reflected off her hair.

  She might not like this part. I hadn’t gotten Rand to agree to helping us or not helping us. I’d, uh, I’d been too busy shagging him. “Well, I don’t know that I’ve completely persuaded him, but at least he realizes I’m a witch.” At her raised brow expression, I felt my mouth run in diarrhea mode. “Mathilda made him feel the same feelings the Rand of my time feels towards me … so that he would know me. Well, as well as he could know me considering this Rand never met me before.” I took a deep breath.

  Mercedes nodded. “Yes, I am aware of Mathilda’s charm. But he has not agreed to participate?”

  It appeared there was no end to Mercedes’s omnipotence. I wasn’t about to ask her how she knew about Mathilda’s spell; I just didn’t want to know. “He hasn’t agreed to help us yet. I thought i
t was a pretty big accomplishment just getting him to believe me. Oh, and by the way, we bonded.”

  She didn’t look surprised. “Yes.”

  “You knew?” Of course she knew. She was the uber witch, remember? Well, uber witch or not, I was suddenly pissed off. “So you knew all along that Rand and I would bond? And you also know that when I leave, it will nearly kill him?”

  She stopped walking and faced me with little or no concern in her face. “Rand will not die. Mathilda will see that he survives the ordeal.”

  That wasn’t my point. I didn’t like putting him through it to begin with. It didn’t seem right or fair. “I don’t like playing a pawn in your game.”

  Mercedes’s mouth was tight. “This is not my game and we are all pawns.”

  I frowned and wished I could bury myself in Rand’s arms; I needed his comfort; I needed him. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Rand must agree to participate; you must get his word that he will. Then you are to meet at the junction where the elm tree meets the willow at the far north corner of Pelham Manor. You will bring Rand and I will bring Mathilda. We will all meet there exactly ten minutes prior to the dawn of the twenty-sixth of December.”

  “You mean at 11:50 p.m.?” Hey, I just had to be sure …

  “Yes.” She started to walk away but came back to me again, taking my hands in her own. “This must be, Jolie. It is the hand of destiny, of the Goddess.”

  That didn’t mean I had to like it and I didn’t like it, not one bit. “Who is the Goddess anyway?”

  Mercedes smiled and her face reflected the moonlight as her cat’s eyes hinted at her incredible power. “She is destiny, she is nature. She is the natural order of things and fate. She is everything you observe around you.”

  “And she is going to send us back?”

  Mercedes nodded.

  I wanted to make a crack about the Flux Capacitor but refrained.

  “Great Scott!” I said with a smile, clearly not able to control myself.