Witchful Thinking (Jolie Wilkins #3)

by H. P. Mallory

  I nodded and sighed as I thought about it. I remembered winning him over, remembered how amazing it had felt when we finally admitted our feelings for each other. And how incredible he had felt inside me.

  “Yes, I did finally win you over, but it wasn’t an easy feat,” I said with a laugh that sounded sad even to my ears. “It took a spell from Mathilda for the old you to have the same feelings you have for me today.”

  He nodded and glanced down at the table before returning his chocolate-brown eyes to me. “Ah, so I fell in love with you, did I?”

  Even though I was surprised by his admission, I just nodded because it was the truth. The old Rand had fallen in love with me and it wasn’t a false love, spurred on by the convenience of Mathilda’s spell—every thought, every feeling Rand bore toward me was genuine, real, based on his feelings for me in the here and now. It was the new Rand that I had to be sure about now. I reached for his face, trailing the soft skin of his temples down to the roughness of his cheek, where the beginnings of a shadow were starting. “Are you in love with me, Rand?”

  “Yes, very much so,” he answered without hesitation. “But my love for you isn’t why I asked you to stay behind. I need to know what happened in 1878, Jolie. Why did I give you my mother’s ring? What were the circumstances?”

  “Rand—” I swallowed down a huge lump of nervousness. Something that felt like angst began to well in my gut and before I could even fathom what I was doing, I was already doing it. I stared into Rand’s eyes and felt the words swirling through my head, felt the chant ricochet through me, recognizing the duplicity in my actions but seemingly unable to do anything about it.

  I can’t discuss the facts of 1878 with you, Rand. Focus on another topic—ask me about any other subject in the forefront of your mind.

  It hadn’t even occurred to me that maybe Rand, being the powerful warlock he was, would be immune to my magic, and luckily for me it didn’t appear that he was. Instead his eyes took on the same dreamy expression I’d witnessed whenever I used witchcraft to influence someone.

  “Do you intend to become Queen?” he interrupted. I felt my entire body deflate with relief, even as guilt started eating me from the feet up. The relief was a mere respite, though, because the subject of whether or not I intended to become Queen was about as welcome as the bonding conversation.

  “I don’t want to deter you, Jolie, but I want to ensure this is what you want and that you aren’t just acting as Mercedes’ puppet.”

  “I …” I didn’t know what to say.

  “Mercedes is very demanding, and I want to make certain someone is looking out for your best interests,” Rand finished.

  And that was Rand to a T. He was always looking out for my best interests, making sure I was taken care of—that I was safe.

  “I don’t know what I’ll do,” I said finally, looking down at my hands where his mother’s ring sparkled up at me. I almost felt like I should take it off again—offer it back to him. Because the truth of the matter was that I had no right to wear it.

  He nodded. “I want you to make the decision for yourself—not because Mercedes is breathing down your neck or because you feel like you owe it to the creatures of the Underworld. On the other hand, don’t deny yourself the title if it’s what you truly want.”

  I glanced up at him, pushing all of the worried thoughts from my mind. “And if the throne was what I wanted, would you support me?”

  Rand dropped his gaze and chewed his lip. “You know my thoughts on the subject, Jolie. I cannot abide by any form of monarchy.”

  “I know,” I was quick to respond.

  Rand’s smile was unexpected and secretive. “Have I ever told you why?”

  Hmm, come to think of it, he hadn’t. I’d always figured it was just one of those things that made Rand Rand. Sort of like his deep brown eyes and his dimpled smile.

  “No, you haven’t.”

  He nodded and, standing, took a few steps away from me, crossing his arms against his chest before turning back to face me again. “In 1870 I was appointed ambassador to the United States by Queen Victoria.”

  I felt my eyes widen in surprise. “You were?”

  Rand chuckled. “I’d already lived a full and colorful life before you came into it, Jolie.”

  “Go on.”

  “In my position as ambassador, I spent quite a bit of time with your president at the time, Ulysses Grant.”

  “Grant as in the Civil War hero?” I asked, my mouth dropping open again.

  Rand laughed. “It appears your knowledge of history is quite good. Yes, your Civil War hero.” He took a deep breath. “In the three years that I represented British interests where America was concerned, I developed a keen admiration and love for the American way—for the emphasis placed on equality and justice for all men.” He sighed, and his gaze settled on the vista outside the window. “I thought perhaps England could adopt some of the American values I had come to believe in, but of course that was entirely impossible due to the fact that my country had always been a monarchy.” He turned to face me again, and there was fire in his eyes. “But when I realized the Underworld didn’t have to follow the path of monarchy, my hopes for a republic were born. And I’ve never given up on my beliefs that the society of Underworld creatures should be governed by and unto themselves, not overlorded by a monarch.”

  I nodded and sighed. His feelings were obviously carved in stone. Crap and a half. “So if I do become Queen, things will be over between us?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  But he didn’t have to. Realistically, how could he love me and be with me if he didn’t condone my day job? It would tear us apart; I could see it as clearly as if I were peering into a crystal ball.

  “Jolie?” Rand’s voice accompanied a strong rap on my door.

  I stood up from my position of sloth on the couch and turned down the volume of the television. The clock above the TV announced it was eleven thirty at night. Wondering why he could possibly be visiting so late, I pulled open the door and found him before me, dressed in loose-fitting dark jeans and a white T-shirt that glowed in the rays of moonlight behind him.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, yes,” he said dismissively and eyed the inside of my house with what appeared to be longing.

  “Do you want to come in?” I held the door open wide and stepped aside.

  “If you aren’t otherwise engaged, yes please.”

  “I’m not.”

  He walked inside and eyed the surroundings of my house as if he hadn’t seen it before, as if this was the first time he’d ever viewed what once was the butler’s quarters of Pelham Manor. I closed the door behind us.

  “I couldn’t sleep and found nothing entertaining on the telly,” he started and ran an agitated hand through his hair that told me he was uncomfortable or, at the very least, nervous. What he had to be nervous about was anyone’s guess. But really, that was just Rand. He could never be described as predictable.

  “Oh,” I said, not really knowing what else to say.

  “I, uh, thought perhaps you might like some company.”

  I shrugged, attempting to give the idea that I was cool, calm, and in control of my emotions when the truth of the matter was that I could think of nothing more appealing. “Sure.”

  Secretly I wondered if he might resume the last conversation we’d had—about what would happen between us should I become Queen. Of course it wasn’t a conversation I wanted anything to do with, so it wasn’t like I was about to bring it up. And hopefully neither would he. I just wasn’t in the mood for a long-winded and difficult discussion.

  “I wondered if perhaps you might be interested in a magic lesson?”

  “Now?” I asked, my tone echoing my surprise.

  Rand chuckled, a deep, harmonious sound. In fact, I never tired of Rand’s laugh—it was one of those sounds I couldn’t help but love.

  “Tonight is a waning crescent moon,” he start
ed.

  “Huh?”

  He laughed again. “When the moon enters the waning crescent lunar phase, just prior to becoming a new moon, the impetus for magic is at its highest.”

  I glanced outside my window at the sliver of moon, which looked more like the white top of a French-manicured fingernail. “That sounds like an important detail,” I said, glancing back at my warlock. “How come I’m just learning it now?”

  Rand shrugged. “It’s taken me over one hundred years to amass all the knowledge I have today, and yet I’m still a novice.”

  “Great. I have a long-ass time to look forward to then.”

  Rand cocked a brow and just smiled.

  “So what lesson am I in for tonight?”

  “Astral projection.”

  “Astral what?” I asked and eyed him suspiciously. I couldn’t exactly say I was in the mood for a magic lesson. Wasn’t there something to be said for just chilling on the couch and watching Come Dine with Me? Throw a few makeout sessions in there and it would prove to be the best evening I’d had all week.

  “Yes, astral projection.”

  “I’m hardly dressed for it,” I said, glancing down at my Victoria’s Secret cotton PJ pants and my oversized pink sweatshirt. I didn’t even have on any shoes.

  Rand nodded and any nervousness he’d had before was gone. In its place was a cool assurance. He took a few steps toward me until my body was maybe a foot from his. Then he brought each of his hands to my shoulders and smiled down at me.

  “Astral projection can only be successfully attempted during the waning and waxing crescent phases of the moon, so why not take advantage of the opportunity nature has presented us with?”

  I sighed. “Want to explain what it is first?”

  He nodded but didn’t remove his hands from my shoulders. Instead he tightened his hold and wore a funny little smile, like he was getting some sort of kick out of this whole thing. “Astral projection has been associated with out-of-body experiences, near-death experiences, and the afterlife.”

  “Great,” I said with a frown. “That all sounds really reassuring.”

  His smile deepened. “It’s the separation of the soul from the physical, corporeal body.”

  I gulped. “This is sounding worse by the minute.”

  He brought his finger to my face and traced from my temple down my cheek to my jawline. I felt my breathing increase as my heart began to pound.

  “I would never endanger you, you realize that, Jolie?” His voice was low, gruff.

  My own voice had packed up and moved out so I just nodded dumbly.

  “Your skin is so soft,” he whispered, and before I could worry about separating my soul from my physical body or the wax-on, wax-off cycle of the moon, his lips were on mine. I closed my eyes and relished the feel and taste of him. His lips were so incredibly full and soft. He gripped my neck and pulled me into him as his tongue breached the closure of my lips.

  He pulled away and gazed down at me with a serene expression. “I apologize.”

  “Um, what?”

  He chuckled. “For derailing your lesson.”

  Lesson? What lesson? “Oh, it’s okay.”

  He pulled away from me with a smirk and shook his head; why, I wasn’t sure. Then he glanced down at my feet.

  “Should I put on some shoes?”

  “No, we aren’t leaving your house.”

  Out-of-body experience, separation of the soul from the corporeal body … yeah, I guess the fact that we wouldn’t be leaving the house made sense. I mean, it was all about soul travel. Hmm, speaking of soul travel, I had to wonder if it was possible for one to astrally project oneself to the grocery store?

  “So start ’splainin’, Lucy,” I said with a smile.

  Rand just responded with a cockeyed expression that told me he wasn’t familiar with I Love Lucy. Still, he didn’t seem to be very concerned; he just approached the window and gazed at the moon.

  “You start by focusing on the moon,” he said as I moved up next to him so as not to appear the inattentive student. “Allow the magic to penetrate you, soak in the lunar rays, and then allow yourself to project.”

  While his directions didn’t exactly answer the myriad questions floating through my head, I kept my concerns to myself and simply watched as he closed his eyes. There wasn’t any sort of expression on his incredibly handsome face. Instead he looked like he was meditating—the square lines of his jaw relaxed and tranquil.

  There was no indication that anything of a magical nature was happening but, with regard to the Underworld, looks usually were deceiving. Continuing to study Rand, I almost missed the reflection of something shimmery and white from out of the corner of my eye. I glanced outside and could faintly detect the outline of a man as he walked among the trees. There was a whitish glow about him; inside the glowing outline, his body was transparent, like a ghost.

  I glanced back at Rand and found he looked exactly the same as he had—like he was still sound asleep. Before I had the chance to look out the window again at our ghostly visitor, Rand took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Then he released his breath and smiled.

  “Did you see me?”

  I nodded. “You looked like a ghost.”

  “Astral projection.”

  “And let me guess, now it’s my turn?”

  He chuckled. “Quite astute of you, Jolie.”

  I sighed and turned squarely in front of the window in the hope that I could fully maximize my ability to soak in the lunar rays. I needed all the help I could get.

  “Close your eyes,” Rand said in a soft voice. I did as I was told and felt his breath against my cheek; my skin responded with goose bumps. “Feel the magic soak into you, Jolie, allow the power of the moon inside you.”

  He lifted the curtain of my hair from my neck. That, combined with his announcement that I should let the moon “inside me,” was enough for me to demand that we forget all this projection stuff in favor of some sex stuff. But I managed to maintain my cool. Point for me.

  I focused on the darkness of my eyelids and imagined the light and magic of the lunar rays soaking into me, filling me up with their powerful tide.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  Rand’s breath was now on my neck. I could feel his body as he moved closer to me, pulling me backward and into his arms.

  “Allow yourself to walk through the trees. Imagine smelling the crisp air outside, feeling the soil beneath your toes, the chill of the wind.”

  I concentrated, imagined the things he’d just envisioned for me, and it felt as if I were suddenly weightless—merely a thought, floating through space and time. It was a lightness I’ve never experienced before—I was no longer subject to gravity. Instead I was like the air itself. I opened my eyes and found myself outside. I could feel the branches and leaves on the forest floor. The rays of the moon seemed to embrace me in an otherworldly hug.

  “Come back to me, Jolie.”

  Rand’s voice sounded far off, almost like he was whispering into the wind.

  “Pull yourself back in.”

  I nodded and glanced up at the moon again, telling the great white goddess that I needed to return to my body. My time here was up.

  And as suddenly as if I’d been hit by a truck, that light-headed, weightless feeling was ripped away from me. In its place I felt heavy, dense. My knees buckled at the same time that Rand caught me with a chuckle. I opened my eyes and with my heart beating frantically in my chest, glanced around my living room.

  “Did I do it?”

  “Yes, you did,” Rand answered. He sounded proud.

  I held on to him and allowed my head to rest against his chest as my heartbeat calmed. I still felt wobbly, though, like a newborn giraffe.

  “You never stop amazing me.” His voice was soft as he kissed the top of my head. “Your magic, Jolie, is incredibly strong. I sometimes forget how powerful you truly are.”

  But I didn’t want to hear how powerful I was. All I w
anted was to lose myself in the feel of Rand’s arms around me, in the way he smelled of spice and something deeply masculine. I didn’t say anything but tightened my arms around him, wishing this moment would never end.

  Even though I put up a good fight, in the end I didn’t fly to Australia to retrieve Christa. Mercedes kept insisting that it was just too risky for the Queen of the Underworld to be flying around the globe in these “uncertain times.” She may have perceived the times as uncertain, but I was more than certain this Queen business was seriously cramping my style.

  I would have continued to argue my case for retrieving Christa if her boyfriend, John, hadn’t happily offered to take the task upon himself. And after talking to him, I sensed that he’d also prefer to do it alone. And I didn’t blame him—if I’d been separated from Rand for more than two weeks, I’d also prefer some one-on-one time. Pun most definitely intended.

  Either way, Christa was safe and sound and back at Pelham Manor. Although, she wasn’t too thrilled with the fact that I had charmed her into traveling to Australia on her own.

  “I had to do it, Chris,” I said with a hopeful smile.

  It was early evening and we were sitting on my couch in the living room of my small house—about two miles from Pelham Manor. It might seem strange that Christa lived in Rand’s home and I didn’t (but really, what counts as strange when we’re talking about witches, vampires, and werewolves?). Anyway, when Christa and I first moved to Alnwick, England, to live with Rand (due to the fact that Rand said I needed protection once I’d been introduced to the Underworld, and he could offer said protection), we both lived alongside of him in Pelham Manor. But as emotions between Rand and me got more confused and even more frustrating, I decided I needed my own space, so I moved out. Christa had continued to occupy Pelham Manor, employed as Rand’s assistant. And as for jealousy? It actually wasn’t an arrangement that bothered me at all, mainly because Christa had a boyfriend and Rand had put a spell on her that made her feel only brotherly feelings toward him.

  So tonight was girls’ night. I’d given express instructions to everyone to leave us alone. Anyone or anything with testosterone was most definitely not invited. No, tonight was going to be about reconnecting with the one person who was closer to me than anyone on the planet, and we had lots to catch up on.