Witchful Thinking (Jolie Wilkins #3)

by H. P. Mallory

  Knowing Mercedes, I figured she wasn’t giving me the whole picture. But at this point, I couldn’t say I really cared what Sinjin and Mercedes were up to. No, I didn’t care because I actually had another plan for my life—another path I’d just decided on about, um, ten minutes ago.

  “Mercedes,” I started, searching for the right way to phrase this next part. “As your Queen, I want you to send me back to 1878.”

  “For what purpose?” she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Because I hate my life,” I said and took a few steps away from her, feeling the sudden need to escape the damning expression in her eyes.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “It’s not that I hate it,” I admitted. I took a deep breath and looked at her. “I was happy in 1878. I loved Rand and he loved me. Nothing is the same now.”

  “It is your duty to make it the same.”

  I laughed, but it was an ugly sound. I looked at the waves outside my window and wished I had no responsibility other than crashing against the rocks and pulling back with the tide again. I faced Mercedes and shook my head. “I’ve tried to make things right in this century, believe me.”

  Mercedes shook her head. “Perhaps you are not trying hard enough. There is a reason, a purpose—”

  “Yes, yes, yes, I know what you’re going to say and I’m sick to death of hearing it,” I snapped. “If this is the purpose and the reason to my life, I want none of it.” I started to shake with anger. “I hate what my life has become.”

  “I am very sorry to hear that.” But her tone said she wasn’t sorry and wouldn’t allow me to leave my troubles and worries behind. Mercedes would always protect the monarchy. She would always protect the kingdom.

  “If you’re really sorry then send me back,” I finished.

  Mercedes’ lips pursed as her eyes narrowed on me. “And what of your responsibilities as Queen?”

  I shrugged and waved away her concerns. “You be Queen. You are way more suited to the role than I ever was anyway. You’re more powerful than I am. You should have been Queen from the get-go.”

  “You are not fully aware of your powers yet,” she said.

  “I don’t care. Right now, you’d make a better Queen.”

  She shook her head. “I am not meant to be Queen, Jolie. The responsibility has always been set aside for you.” She took a few steps closer to me and tried to relax her frown into a smile, which came out looking like a grimace. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and focus on being the monarch we both know you are.”

  “This isn’t about feeling sorry for myself,” I barked although she did have a point—I was wallowing in my own misery. But no need to admit that.

  “Then think no more on it.”

  She started for the door. I suddenly felt the tears welling in my eyes. “Please, Mercedes.”

  She paused for a moment more and then showed herself out of my room, closing the door behind her.

  I wasn’t sure when I’d made the decision or why, really, but I found myself standing outside Rand’s guest room door and it took all my nerve to knock. Rand was visiting Kinloch in his position as chief advisor, not only to meet with Mercedes and me but also to help us reanimate the remainder of Bella’s soldiers.

  I knocked and held my breath, my heart beating in time to the sounds of Rand’s heavy stride as he came to answer the door. He pulled it open and looked surprised at first, but his surprise slowly gave way to a smile.

  “Jolie?”

  “Can we talk?” I asked, shifting from one foot to the other as if I had to pee.

  “Of course.” He opened the door for me.

  I hurried inside and glanced around the room, taking in the light brown of the walls and the white of the furniture. Rand’s laptop was on a table positioned just in front of the fireplace. It was the only possession of his I could see.

  “What’s on your mind?” he started.

  I stood in front of the fireplace and gazed down at the logs, covered in soot and halfway burned. “Why didn’t you stand up for me?”

  The frown on his face announced the fact that he had no idea what I was referencing. “I apologize but—”

  “When everyone was offering marriage, why didn’t you champion me?”

  He shook his head. “There was no reason for me to.”

  “No reason?” I scoffed.

  Rand’s frown deepened. “You are a strong woman, Jolie, it’s not my responsibility to save you.”

  I felt something burst inside me, something angry. “It’s not about saving me.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  I shook my head, feeling tears starting in my eyes. It had been incredibly stupid for me to come here—especially given the fact that Rand and I had to work together closely. I’d let my emotions get the best of me, and it wasn’t something I was proud of. Especially not when I was Queen—I needed to be more in control of myself.

  “Never mind.” I turned on the ball of my foot as I started for the door. Rand grabbed my hand and pulled me back around again until I was facing him, until we were mere inches apart.

  “I knew you weren’t going to accept any of them,” he said in a gravelly voice.

  “How did you know that?”

  “Because I know you.”

  I shook my head and dropped my attention to the floor before bringing it back to his face. “Rand, for once, I just wanted you to react emotionally, to think with your heart instead of your brain. For once, I hoped you’d stand up for me, let it be known that you’re the only one for me.”

  I felt mortification blossom up within me at the fact that I was admitting things I usually kept inside and under wraps. But maybe it was about time I let it all out. Maybe admitting to my true feelings was exactly what I needed to do.

  Rand glanced away from me and sighed deeply before looking down at me again. “I knew you wouldn’t accept any of those proposals. You told me as much yourself.” He took another deep breath. “And I’ll be damned if my marriage proposal were ever to be lumped in with the likes of Odran, Trent, Varick, and the King of the fucking demons!”

  I pulled away from him and shook my head, only aware of the fact that he just wasn’t getting it. I started for the door again with tears bleeding down my cheeks.

  “I don’t know why I keep trying, Rand,” I said in a small voice, refusing to look at him. “It’s like you keep kicking me and I stupidly keep coming back.”

  Before he could respond, I left the room.

  I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go and took the stairs two at a time, heading into the hallway that led through the living room and into the bedrooms belowground … those of the vampires. I angrily wiped the tears from my cheeks and vowed to myself that I would never expect anything of Rand again. He wasn’t my 1878 Rand. He wasn’t the same man I’d given myself to. The quicker I realized that, the better. Things with Rand were over. Done.

  When I stopped walking, I found myself standing outside Sinjin’s door, battling with myself over whether or not to knock. A plan had been coming together in my head, an escape route. But even as I stood in front of Sinjin’s door, I had to ask myself if I was really going to do it.

  I rapped on the door twice. It opened and Sinjin appeared in the darkness, glancing at me in surprise.

  “Poppet, are you well?”

  “I need to speak with you,” I answered. Then it occurred to me that maybe Sinjin had a woman in his bedroom with him. “Can I come in or are you … occupied?”

  “Of course.” He smiled and opened the door just a smidgeon, forcing me to squeeze past him. When I did, I realized he was wearing only a pair of white silk boxer shorts. His chest was bare and beautiful, with its sculpted, ropy muscles.

  “Um, do you want me to come back after you’ve dressed?” I asked, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

  Sinjin closed the door behind him and leaned against it, crossing his arms against his wide chest and smiled down at me … hungrily. “No.”


  “Oh, okay,” I said and started to fidget with the zipper of my sweatshirt. Not wanting to face Sinjin in his current state of undress, I glanced around the room. It was a fairly large space, painted dark blue; the carpet was a dark gray, thick and plush, almost like walking on memory foam. A king-sized bed with a black leather headboard dominated one wall, and black side tables flanked the bed. A flat-screen television decorated the opposite wall, and it looked like Sinjin had installed some sort of high-tech sound system. It’s not like I knew anything about sound systems but given that there were speakers in each corner of the ceiling, I figured it would probably be impressive to anyone who knew about that sort of stuff.

  “Did Mercedes pick all this stuff out for you?” I asked, in awe.

  Sinjin chuckled. “No. Had she, I imagine this room would resemble the rest of the house—a style not quite in line with my own.”

  Well, I guess Sinjin wouldn’t like my style either because I loved the furnishings in Kinloch. But that wasn’t why I was here and I needed to get to the point. I mean, I was standing in a room with a half-naked vampire.

  “Thank you, poppet,” Sinjin said, and his English accent was thick, sensual.

  I glanced at him in surprise. “For what?”

  He stood up straight from his stance against the door and approached me. When he was just in front of me, he put a hand on each of my shoulders and pushed me backward until my calves met his bed.

  “Sit, you appear nervous,” he said.

  So I did. I sat down on his enormous bed and watched a smile of amusement spread across his mouth that said he had me right where he wanted me.

  “Why are you thanking me?” I demanded.

  “You freed me from Varick,” he said simply. “That was a favor the likes of which I will never be able to repay.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no need given all the good turns you’ve done me.” I mean, there was rescuing me when Bella kidnapped me, training me to fight against the vampire Ryder, feeding me his blood … the list went on.

  “We can agree to disagree, poppet.” He studied me for a moment or two, still standing before me. “Tell me why you have come.”

  I dropped my gaze to my hands, which looked so small in my lap, and sighed before glancing up at Sinjin again. “I want you to take me away.”

  He quirked a brow and considered me curiously. “Take you where?”

  “I don’t care. I just want to escape.” I stood up and approached the far side of his room, wishing he had a window. I suddenly felt claustrophobic. I leaned against the wall and faced him again. “I no longer want this life. I want out of here.”

  “Do you think that is being responsible given your—”

  “I don’t care about responsibility!” I railed.

  Sinjin nodded as if he couldn’t disagree. “And you wish for me to escort you … to what?”

  “To a new life,” I muttered as I took a deep breath. This wasn’t coming out exactly like I had hoped it would. “I mean, I imagine you aren’t tied to Kinloch—or to Britain, for that matter?”

  Sinjin nodded. “I have no ties.”

  Considering that to be in my favor, I took a few steps toward him. “We could go somewhere else, then, Sinjin. We could travel the world and do whatever we want to do.”

  “What are you trying to escape?”

  I swallowed hard. “Nothing. I’m …”

  “Perhaps I should rephrase the question. Who are you trying to escape?”

  There was no point in lying. “Rand.”

  Sinjin nodded and was silent for a few seconds, but he never took his eyes from mine. “I will heed your wishes on one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  He came closer to me until no more than six inches of air separated us. “That you forget the warlock. If we are to start a new life together, I want you to give yourself to me. I want to share your bed, your body.”

  I swallowed hard and battled the feelings within me. I wanted Sinjin, I always had. But could I go through with it? Could I shelve my feelings for Rand and focus on Sinjin? The better question was: Could I trust Sinjin?

  “Done,” I said.

  Sinjin smiled broadly and took the step that separated us until his chest brushed up against mine. “You do understand what that entails?”

  I felt the breath catch in my throat as I forced myself to meet his sensual gaze. “I think so,” I answered, so intimidated by him that it came out as a mere whisper.

  “It means, my pet, that I will taste you whenever I choose, your body will belong to me, it will be my name you scream when I am inside you.”

  Feeling his breath against my cheeks, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t help it. A flurry of butterflies started in my stomach. I tried to beat them down, tried to convince myself I could go through with this.

  “Do you think about making love to me?” he asked, his breath caressing my skin as his finger outlined my neck, tracing my collarbone.

  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like,” I admitted.

  He chuckled, and it was an opulent sound. I opened my eyes and found him staring at me, heat burning in his eyes. Before I could guess what he was going to do, his mouth was on mine, the points of his fangs threatening my lips. But there was nothing threatening about the way he kissed. It was powerful, hungry, and urgent. His tongue made a forceful entry into my mouth, and he gripped the back of my neck as he pushed me up against the wall.

  He pulled away and chuckled down at me again. “You are flushed.”

  “Sinjin,” I started, not even knowing what I wanted to say.

  “Shall we escape then?” he asked, still wearing the devil’s smile.

  I nodded and he stepped away from me.

  “Your things?” he began, probably alluding to the fact that I hadn’t shown up with luggage.

  “I don’t need any of it,” I said quickly. I was a witch, I could magick anything I’d possibly need.

  “Goodbyes?”

  “Only to Christa,” I answered. “And I can’t think about that now. She’ll talk me out of leaving.”

  “Then that conversation can occur over the phone.”

  “Do you need to pack?” I asked as he neared the door.

  “No.” Reaching for the pair of pants and long-sleeved shirt draped over the chair just beside his bed, he dressed. He slipped on his black leather shoes and faced me with another practiced smile. “Shall we?”

  Twenty minutes later we were in Sinjin’s Mercedes SLS AMG and headed out of Eyemouth. Where we were going, I had no idea. We hadn’t exactly discussed it. In fact, since getting into the car, neither of us had said a word. So many thoughts were going through my head that I couldn’t even fathom the idea of having to think about what to say. As we entered the highway that led to Pelham Manor, something inside me cracked, something broke.

  “I can’t do this,” I said in an anguished tone. After not getting a response, I faced Sinjin and his jaw was tight. “Turn the car around, Sinjin, I can’t do this.”

  “Why?”

  I sighed, long and hard. “I …” I had to look away from him. I couldn’t admit this next part while looking him in the eyes. “I know that I will always love Rand. Even though we aren’t meant to be together, I will always love him.”

  Sinjin didn’t say anything right away and when I forced my eyes back to his face, I immediately regretted it. He was furious; ire seemed to drip from his eyes, and his jaw was so tight, it looked like he might crack his teeth.

  “I consider you an intelligent woman and yet I cannot understand how you remain so blinded and foolish when it comes to that blasted warlock!” Sinjin yelled.

  I was taken aback, not expecting such vitriol from him.

  “Sinjin …”

  “When will you realize he does not love you and never will? When will you understand you are wasting your time with him?”

  I glowered at him. “Turn around.”

  He made no motion to turn around and, instead, s
tepped on the gas until we were driving so quickly, the lights of the scenery around us blurred.

  “You need to wake up, Jolie. You need to wake up and realize I am the best man for you.”

  “I’m sorry, Sinjin.” It was all I could say.

  Jolie, stop crying, dammit! I yelled at myself as I threw my door shut and collapsed onto my bed.

  But the tears wouldn’t subside—they just kept pouring out of my eyes as if they had a mind of their own. And really, it’s not like my mind was doing anything to help curtail them. Instead I couldn’t stop repeating Sinjin’s words, running over and over through my head—“When will you realize he does not love you and never will?”

  The sad, desperate truth about the whole situation was that maybe Sinjin was right. Maybe Rand didn’t truly love me. Yes, Rand seemed to think he was in love with me and had said as much, but maybe it just wasn’t the case—maybe he only thought he was in love with me? I mean, if Rand truly, deeply loved me, then why wouldn’t he have found a way to be with me? Yes, there were plenty of obstacles stacked up against us, but wasn’t love supposed to trump everything standing in its way? Wasn’t that what all those sappy love songs were about?

  I stood up and wiped my eyes against my shirtsleeve, walking toward the window just beside my bed. I glanced outside but saw nothing in the dark. Even the milky rays of the moon were hidden by a cluster of billowy, dark gray clouds. The comparison between the dark night outside and the darkness that seemed to have taken up permanent residency within me wasn’t lost on me. In a sudden bout of anger I smashed my fist against the windowsill, which did nothing but ricochet pain up my arm.

  “Fuck!” I screamed and then broke into another round of sobs. My entire life had entered a tailspin, like I was in the throes of a hurricane—a tempest of emotions battering me with regret, pain, and anger.

  Yes, 1878 Rand loved me, and no, it was not an option to return to him. So what did that mean for me today? One thing of which I was certain was that I absolutely, wholeheartedly loved him—and yes, I wanted to be with him. In my picture-perfect notion of an ideal world, Rand was and always would be by my side. The miserable truth of the whole stupid matter was that I wanted to grow old with him. Even if we could never have children, I didn’t care. Rand was enough for me.