Witchful Thinking (Jolie Wilkins #3)

by H. P. Mallory

  “We’re not offering her a choice,” Rand interrupted, stopping mid-pace as he focused on me. “If we don’t give her a choice, she can’t refuse.”

  “Leave Bella to me,” Sinjin said with authority. I turned to face him and found him staring at me. I frowned, remembering that he’d befriended Bella on false pretenses once before. When he and I had met, he’d been pretending to be allied with her and had also been boffing her, both of which made me feel ill.

  “If anything, she hates you more than anyone else, given the circumstances,” I said in response.

  “Is not the line between love and hate very thin?” he asked with a devil’s smile. I just shook my head.

  Mercedes glanced at him and nodded. “Do what you must,” she said, ending the conversation.

  “I believe step number one is to bring our victim back to life,” Mercedes announced and reached for the item of clothing again. She handed the clump to me, and I was immediately captivated by some sort of perfume that smelled like lilies. The scent was light but sweet and I guessed this victim was a woman. I glanced at Rand and offered one hand at the same time Mercedes took the other. Now the fun would start.

  “Do you want me to help you focus, Jolie?” Rand asked.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. I concentrated on the black of my closed eyelids as I attempted to tune out the room around me and everyone in it. The darkness began to swirl and I felt as if I were floating in a sea of black nothing, riding the swells as reality began to erode into surreality.

  My feet landed on something hard that felt like concrete. I opened my eyes to find that I was standing in the backyard of a one-story house. Surrounded by a forest of trees, I noticed that there were no birds singing or insects chirping. Instead screaming deafened my ears and appeared to be coming from the house. I wasn’t sure what to do so I took a few steps forward, nearly tripping over a woman lying prostrate before me. A man stood above her, staring down at her lifeless body. I figured he must be a family member.

  I knelt to ensure she was dead when I noticed that the man above her was suddenly wielding a wooden stake. The man smiled and revealed the tiniest fangs—almost like sharpened Chiclets.

  As I suddenly realized the woman wasn’t dead and this jerk was about to finish her off, I lurched forward and dived for her. The Lurker brought the stake down in a split second, his speed and strength impressively fast, vampire fast. I felt a handful of the woman’s hair in my palm. When I opened my eyes, she appeared to be fading, disappearing into the air. I glanced down at myself and noticed that the same thing was happening to me.

  I don’t think I passed out this time—the transition between reality and alternate reality was much faster than it had been earlier. I blinked and found myself in Rand’s arms as he, Mercedes, and everyone in the room focused on the woman who was huddled on the floor before us.

  She seemed to take a deep breath and then stood up on wobbly legs, glancing around herself as if wondering where the hell she was.

  “Where … what …,” she started in an American accent, a Texan drawl to be more specific. Her eyes fell to Sinjin and she heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Sinjin Sinclair,” she said and paused for a second or two. “Why do I have the feeling I just died and you really are the devil himself?”

  Even though Sinjin merely chuckled at the woman’s accusation, it was safe to say that the rest of us were shocked. It seemed as if even the fire in the fireplace was taken aback because it hissed, hurling a few sparks against the screen.

  “Ah, we meet again,” Sinjin said in his sexiest voice as he looked her up and down appreciatively.

  “Well, I can’t say I’m really all that bothered by the fact that I’m dead,” she replied with a coy laugh as she approached him. I think the rest of us were too mummified by what happened next to even make a sound—she simply leaned down, placed her hands on either side of Sinjin’s face, and kissed him! Then, in the next split second, she pulled her hand back and smacked him right across the face.

  “And that’s for taking off and never leaving word about where the hell you went, you son of a bitch!” she shouted angrily, fangs indenting her lower lip.

  And Sinjin, in true Sinjin form, didn’t budge or resist. He merely allowed her to attack him and relaxed back into Rand’s armchair, unfazed. “I apologize, love, but I was much younger then and could not be tied down,” he said with a self-satisfied smile. Jerkwad.

  “As if you could ever be tied down,” the woman replied, some of her femme fatale wiliness sinking back into her tone.

  “So are you going to introduce your … friend, Sinjin?” I asked, not meaning to sound so put out. I even let my arms drop from across my chest in an attempt at indifference, as though knowing these two had a past didn’t bother me in the least.

  The woman turned to face me and I realized how pretty she was. She had long dark hair that reached the middle of her back, blue eyes, and a smile that seemed contagious.

  “I apologize,” she said, shaking her head almost as if she were embarrassed. “I’m Klaasje Helgren, it’s nice to meet you.” She pronounced her name Klasha—like Tasha with a Kla.

  She offered me her hand and I shook it, figuring that since I was the one to bring her back to life, I should probably act the part of the good hostess. Of course, the one who knew her better than any of us was Sinjin, who was evidently responsible for the wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, but whatever.

  “I’m Jolie,” I began, smiling while motioning to Rand, who merely tipped his chin in acknowledgment. “And this is Rand Balfour, owner of this manor. Mercedes Berg, the prophetess.” I turned to face Mercedes.

  “The prophetess?” Klaasje repeated with her wide eyes fastened on Mercedes. “I always thought you were just a fable.”

  “Luckily for me, that is not so,” Mercedes said with a little laugh. I was so unaccustomed to her making jokes that I didn’t even really know how to respond. Instead I hurriedly continued with my introductions.

  “This is Odran, King of the fae,” I began as I suddenly realized I had no clue what Odran’s last name was. Did the fae even have last names? Odran Fairy? Hmm, that sounded … well, it didn’t sound good. “And this is Trent, head of the weres. And you probably already know Varick?”

  Klaasje just nodded and flashed Varick a quick smile. He dropped his head in much the same way Rand had, but somehow with Varick it seemed ice cold and unfriendly.

  “And you obviously already know Sinjin,” I finished and frowned at the vampire in question as he beamed up at me, playing the part of an innocent.

  “Yes, Mr. Sinclair and I are well acquainted,” Klaasje announced as she presented Sinjin with another flirtatious smile.

  “How do you two know each other?” I was quick to ask, trying to sound like I was just making conversation.

  Klaasje glanced at Sinjin once more before turning her full attention on me. “Oh, Sinjin and I … well, we go way back, don’t we?”

  Sinjin nodded and crossed one leg over the other. “I do believe it was August 1875 in Salado, Texas, when we met, love?” he asked. I wasn’t sure why but the fact that he had now called her “love” twice irritated me … a lot.

  Klaasje nodded, a broad smile glowing on her pretty face. “That’s right, Mr. Sinclair, the gentleman from Britain.” She had a faraway look on her face like she’d just been transported back to 1875 and probably just met the debonair Mr. Sinclair. That is, before he left her and continued on his merry way, into some other woman’s bed, no doubt.

  “Did Sinjin turn you?” Trent asked.

  Klaasje laughed at his apparent stupidity. “No, I never did get that honor.” She rolled her eyes at Sinjin, as I realized her response was drenched in sarcasm.

  “You flatter me, love,” Sinjin said and shook his head, apparently not picking up on the fact that she was kidding. Or, more likely, he was disregarding her sarcasm.

  “Did I ever tell you how jealous everyone got once you started coming around?�
� Klaasje continued, sounding sincere this time. Sinjin laughed and leaned forward but before he could reply, Rand cleared his throat and looked more annoyed than I probably did.

  “There are many subjects we still need to discuss,” Rand started. After frowning at Sinjin, he turned to face Klaasje. “More specifically, what happened to you in Vermont?”

  Klaasje looked a bit confused and glanced at Sinjin as if her answer lay with him. Her eyebrows furrowing, she returned her gaze to Rand. “I think it’s pretty simple—some bastard staked me.”

  I glanced at Rand and shook my head when it seemed he was about to bombard her with myriad questions.

  “She might not realize what happened,” I suggested and faced Klaasje. “You might want to sit down.”

  She took a seat on the leather sofa beside Sinjin’s armchair. “If you’re asking me to sit, this must be some story.” She tried to sound jovial but there was an undercurrent of worry in her voice.

  I nodded. “You did die, Klaasje, but I brought you back to life.”

  “You what?” She looked at me like I’d just sprouted another head.

  “I brought you back to life,” I repeated. “I’m a witch and—”

  “Jolie is also Queen of the Underworld,” Sinjin interrupted. Klaasje raised her brows as she appeared to reexamine me. Then she dropped her head in deference and stood up to curtsy before facing me again.

  “May I ask you a question?” she asked. It was almost as if she’d had a personality switch—the garrulous and confident woman now concealed by someone more humble and unsure. And it was all because Sinjin had just dropped the monarchy bomb on her.

  I nodded. “Of course.” Not appreciating the fact that I was now being treated differently from everyone else in the room, I turned to face them all and sighed. “I don’t want to be put on a pedestal. I’m Queen, yes, but to me, it’s only a title—a mission I must fulfill in order to unite our people.”

  Mercedes humphed her disagreement but didn’t argue with me. Point for her. I returned my attention to Klaasje and she nodded, clearing her throat.

  “When you say I died …,” she started.

  “You were attacked by someone we believe to be a Lurker,” I answered.

  Klaasje seemed to be taking all of this extremely well—based on the fact that she wasn’t yelling, crying, or passing out. She looked at Sinjin, and he gave her a smile that seemed to comfort her.

  “Thank you.” She glanced up at me again. “I will be forever grateful.”

  I nodded but before I could say anything else, Rand was back to his line of questioning. Guess he was impatient.

  “Do you remember what happened in Vermont, Klaasje? Do you remember how many Lurkers attacked you?” His questions were in sync with his pacing. I wasn’t sure about Klaasje but he was definitely making me nervous.

  “My housemates?” Klaasje asked. Mercedes merely shook her head. Klaasje’s eyes narrowed and she dropped her attention to the floor, looking like she was trying to summon up any strength she still possessed.

  “Do you recall anything?” Mercedes added.

  Klaasje was quiet for a moment or two. Then she seemed to remember what had happened to her—her lips began to tremble and her eyes glassed over.

  “There were maybe six of them, I’m not sure. All I can remember is hearing my housemates screaming from the backyard. When I ran outside to help them, there was a … a human, I think, with incredible strength. I mean, he just lifted me up over his head and threw me to the ground. Before I could say one word, he had me pinned.” She glanced up at me. “How could a human have pinned me?”

  “Because they are descendants of vampires,” Sinjin answered as he examined his nails.

  “Descendants of vampires?” Klaasje repeated. It suddenly struck me that some Underworlders didn’t even know who or what Lurkers were, didn’t realize the threat they presented, Klaasje being a case in point.

  “They are called Lurkers,” I said. Once I had her attention again, I continued. “They’re basically vampires, only they can walk in the daylight and they don’t drink blood.”

  “That is a far cry from a vampire,” Sinjin said derisively. I almost felt like apologizing. But I didn’t.

  “Quite so,” Varick agreed but I merely ignored him.

  “Will you reanimate my housemates?” Klaasje asked, facing me.

  I glanced at Mercedes to redirect the question to her. She nodded to Klaasje. “In time.”

  “Can you tell us anything else about the Lurkers, Klaasje?” Rand asked. Leave it to him to keep the conversation on track.

  She glanced at him and shook her head, sighing deeply as her attention fell to her hands in her lap. She looked up again and eyed me, as if she wasn’t comfortable talking to Rand. Given the fact that he was pacing the room like an expectant father, I didn’t blame her for seeking attention from someone who seemed less stressed out.

  “I didn’t really have the chance to find out anything about them,” she said with a shrug. “I just remember hearing screaming and then running outside. I remember seeing one of my housemates dead but there were other bodies, too, people I didn’t recognize. I couldn’t think much on it, though, because before I knew it, I was getting … staked.”

  I nodded and offered her a smile of consolation. It was a huge bummer that she couldn’t tell us anything more about the Lurkers, but at least it sounded like her roommates had been able to kill a few Lurkers in the process. If only we had something that belonged to them—of course, I had to wonder if it was even possible to reanimate a Lurker.

  “And we have nothing that could have belonged to the dead Lurkers?” I asked Mercedes, who just shook her head.

  Not wanting to focus on that letdown, I decided to see if there were any other pertinent facts we could get out of this woman, anything that might help us paint a picture of what happened and how.

  “How many of you shared your house, Klaasje?” I asked.

  “There were seven of us.”

  “All vampires?” I continued, feeling the heat of Rand’s eyes on me. I glanced up and he immediately looked away.

  Returning my attention to Klaasje, I pondered the fact that the house had been full of vampires. But weres and a witch had also been killed. “Did all the attacks happen at the same time?” I asked Mercedes.

  She shrugged. “As far as we know.”

  I nodded and chewed on my bottom lip as I tried to piece it all together—trying to draw a picture of what had happened. If the Lurkers had attacked the vampires and the other creatures at the same time, it must have been choreographed.

  “The Lurkers must have been staking out the victims before they attacked. The whole thing was planned,” I said.

  “Aye,” Odran said. I had a feeling he’d dozed off through the majority of our meeting.

  “It could be that the point of the attack was to send a warning,” Rand added.

  “What do you mean?” Klaasje asked, frowning.

  He shrugged. “They’ve drawn a line in the sand and now it’s up to us to figure out how we’re going to respond.”

  “Before we even contemplate our response, we must increase our numbers,” Mercedes argued. Her expression dared us to challenge her.

  “We need to finish reanimating our soldiers and then we need Bella’s,” I agreed, realizing the success of any future reanimations rested entirely with me.

  Once the meeting was over and everyone disbanded, I started for the door but Rand’s voice stopped me from leaving.

  “Jolie, do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” I turned back to face him and watched as he approached me with a smile. “What’s up?”

  He shrugged and pointed to the couch so I took a seat, watching him walk to the fireplace.

  “You haven’t finished telling me exactly what happened when you traveled back in time.”

  And my mind suddenly went blank. Why was he asking me this? Hadn’t I put a charm on him to redirect his thoughts? Why was this
coming up now?

  “Jolie, what happened in 1878?” he asked.

  “Well,” I started, searching for something to say. I couldn’t admit that I’d bonded with him. Not now, not after I’d kept it from him for so long. “I healed Pelham, Rand,” I confessed.

  “Healed him?” Rand repeated.

  “You said Pelham died of cholera but when I met him, he didn’t seem to be ailing from that. His symptoms just didn’t fit.” I paused for a second and then shook my head, wondering if this next bit would upset Rand. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I healed him.”

  Rand shrugged and seemed unconcerned. “Pelham died from cholera. I was at his bedside and I witnessed his passing.”

  I shook my head as I considered it. “How can that be?”

  “Because sometimes people are meant to go. Sometimes they’ve finished their life’s mission and it’s just their time.”

  “But—” I started.

  He took a seat, leaning against the back of the leather sofa, crossing his arms against his broad chest. “I’m certain you did heal him, but later he simply came down with cholera and it killed him.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” I said with a nervous laugh.

  “Jolie, tell me how it came to be that I gave you my mother’s ring.”

  Well, there really wasn’t any way to get out of it and I wasn’t about to rely on my magic to throw him off again. Maybe it would be a good thing to have the bonding discussion …

  “You gave me your mother’s ring because uh … um …”

  I took a deep breath and steadied myself. “You gave me your mother’s ring because you asked me to marry you.” Surprise lit up his eyes and I dropped my gaze to the floor for a few seconds before bringing it back to his handsome face again. “And I said yes.”

  He furrowed his brows, then nodded, seemingly not upset in the least. “Did we wed then?”

  “No,” I said and a tremor of anxiety started churning in my gut until I felt like I wanted to throw up. The anxiety spiraled up my stomach, traveling north until it felt like a frog had taken up permanent residence in my throat.

  “But there’s more, I daresay?” he asked and stood up.