Witch Road to Take

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Witch Road to Take Page 9

by April M. Reign


  Dressed and ready for work, I sat down on the edge my bed and glowered at the inside of my hand. It was strange to know that I was born with a mass under my skin that was a key to the underworld—a key that my father needed. It was even crazier to think that the key in my hand could open the portal from Hell to Earth, if Father was able to get all seven keys together in one place.

  Worse yet, I had half brothers and sisters around the world, but I guess I should have expected that. After all, Lucifer’s lack of fidelity to one woman has never been a disputed fact.

  I sighed. I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. My carefree life had been changed and that in itself had made me question who and what I am.

  After the final seven-hour countdown yesterday, the light in my hand permanently turned off and Gavin’s cloaking shield came back in full force. We were no longer concerned with a trotter or a hellhound showing up through a portal and dragging me back to Hell.

  We were all relieved to know that we had made it through that ordeal. However, the conversation between Gavin and Damien disturbed me throughout the night. After Damien laid me back in bed and made sure I’d be okay, he disappeared with no other thoughts or words.

  Gavin had released a lot of information about our family—information that we should have and needed to discuss. The fact that he had disappeared and left me to ponder that new information on my own angered me, which is the reason I had tossed and turned all night.

  I glanced at the clock every minute on the minute. When it felt like hours had passed, the clock had said differently. As the night dragged, I only had my thoughts and memories to keep me company. The words floated in my head repeatedly, back and forth. Descendants of the God, Veles, lord of the underworld and mastery at magic. Mother was a visionary witch who could see the keys even when the key wasn’t turned on. Anytime I came within a 100 feet of another key, mine would turn on and send a signal to my father. If Father got a hold of me during this time, he’d put a tracking device on me and I’d be stripped of my privacy and freedom. Once he had all the keys together, he’d have access to all three worlds, Hell, Heaven and Earth. Every six years on the sixth day of the sixth month, a new visionary witch is born.

  Those thoughts ran around rampant in my mind, causing major sleep deprivation. I was paying for it right now. Still staring down at the inside of my palm, I ran my other hand across it, pressing down hard to see if I could feel it, maybe even remove it. I huffed, “Useless to think about removing it, I can’t even feel it.”

  Today was going to be my first day working for Mr. Sable. I had reservations, but after enduring twenty-four hours of dodging Father’s minions, fighting hypothermia and listening to Gavin confide in Damien, I was ready for something a little more subdued.

  In the kitchen, Jonas had a rat attached to his fangs while he sucked its blood through his teeth like a straw. I was disgusted and irritated, but mostly just downright tired. “Really, Jonas? Your food tank is in your room, can’t you eat in there?”

  Jonas pulled the rat from his mouth and tossed him in the wastebasket. “That’s right, one of the perks of being a vampire is perfect aim,” he grinned. “Someone’s in a shitty mood.”

  “Screw you,” I said. My mood was definitely sour and just being around my roommates irritated me.

  “We bring you home safely last night and this is how you thank us?” Jonas reached in his pocket and pulled out another squirming rat with a long tail and beady red eyes.

  “Don’t you dare, fangs.” I pointed to that critter in his hand. “And, if I recall, you were fighting hypothermia yourself. By the way, vampires don’t have body temperature, so explain to me how an already dead, cold, sort of human can struggle with hypothermia?”

  I turned to Gavin, who was blending fruits and vegetables in a blender to drink for breakfast. “Can you explain that one to me, magic man?”

  “Don’t drag me into this, Red,” he said without turning around.

  Jonas glared at me. “Don’t be a bitch, Dhellia. It was freezing in Antarctica.”

  “Yeah, the vast amount of snow was a dead giveaway to that statement, genius.”

  Jonas extended his fangs, growled and then brought the rat to his mouth and exaggerated the moment he sunk his teeth into its side.

  “Despicable monster,” I glared and turned to grab my breakfast from the pantry.

  Blood dripping from the corners of his mouth to his chin, he mumbled, “Spawn of Satan.”

  “Got nothing better than that, you sad excuse for a vampire?”

  Gavin grabbed the Rice Krispie treat from my hand and slid a glass of his blended juice into my grip with me barely noticing. I was too angry with Jonas to care.

  Jonas tossed the rat in the trash and cocked his head. “You want better, Red? You’re an unknown beast, hiding behind the guise of a diva.” He pulled out another rat, brought it to his mouth, and continued to drink its blood.

  I shrieked, slammed the glass on the counter and walked to the front door. “You, Jonas, are a walking, dead contradiction to all that vampires stand for. You’re allergic to human blood, suffer from hypothermia and are nothing but a wimp. But you wanna know the best part—the part that this unknown beast is going to bask in? The fact that your soul will be treated like all the other vampires, and you’ll have no choice but to spend eternity in the acid pit.”

  I opened the door and slammed it shut behind me.

  I stopped at the bottom step. I hesitated. The moment I said it, I knew I shouldn’t have. I needed to apologize to him. I was irritated and tired. Jonas didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

  I needed to apologize, but I decided to wait until I got home. If I didn’t leave now, I’d be late to Mr. Sable’s office. I threw my purse over my shoulder, jumped in my 1972 green Pinto and headed for Quinn’s office.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Driving into the parking lot of Sable Construction Company was no easy feat. The high-rise tower sat smack dab in the middle of a parking lot filled with Mercedes and BMW’s of all models.

  A part of me felt out of place with my Versace bag resting on the passenger seat of my green Pinto. “If anyone at this company has a problem with my car, Mr. Sable can buy me a new one,” I mumbled over the cassette tape of Elvis.

  This classic cassette came with the car, as a bonus, I thought, but when I realized it was stuck in the player and the volume knob was broken, Ain’t Nothin but a Hound Dog and I became intimately acquainted.

  I turned my wheel to park in an empty parking spot when a small red Porsche skidded in before I could accelerate. “What in the hell are you doing?” I threw my hands in the air, yelling at my front windshield.

  Today was not the day to mess with me. My car was in the middle of the road, halfway turned into the spot, when I jumped out to give this person a piece of my mind.

  A haughty blonde chick with her perfect hair, perfect body and manicured nails waved at a male coworker, and ignored me all together.

  “Oh…hell…no,” I said, slamming my car door. “Excuse me. Miss?’

  “Yes?” she finally took a moment to pay attention to me. Boy was I ready to give her a piece of my mind.

  “You just took my parking spot. I was turning into it and you cut in front of me.”

  She snickered, “Are we in high school? I didn’t cut in front of you.” The look on her face was that of disgust. I knew that look well because I had just used that same face on Jonas.

  “Look at my car. I was getting ready to pull into that spot and you cut me off.” My blood was boiling. I walked toward her. How dare she eye me up and down and call me a liar directly to my face?

  “Listen, lady, I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t own the parking spot until you’re in it.” She placed her purse on the hood of her car and walked a few steps toward me. “And I’m in it!” she yelled.

  I was tired, irritable and I had just spent the day before fighting for my life and finding out things that had put me in a horribl
e mood. Aside from that, I didn’t get to eat my all-time favorite, pick-me-up treat this morning. Gavin pulled my Rice Krispie treat out of my hand and handed me an awful brew of cleansing crap that would strip my bowels of toxins. I didn’t care about my damn bowels. With all of that, my blood was NASA countdown-level heated.

  I glared at her to the point that I saw through her and before I knew what was going on, I roared, “I want you to move your car!” All her windows shook and then immediately shattered.

  My heart pounded, my anger subsided and the first thoughts raced through my mind. Oh crap, what do I look like? Did my face change? Can she tell that I’m a demon?

  We both backed away from each other. Blondie surveyed her car. “Look what you did!” she shrieked.

  “What I did? I’m way over here,” I grimaced, knowing damn well I had done that. Not on purpose of course, but she had it coming.

  Before I turned to go back to my car, I said in a calmer voice, “Looks like justice was served.” I glanced up at the sky. “And it looks like rain; you might want to get those windows fixed.”

  The aggravated look on her face was priceless. The way her skin turned from a perfect yogurt white to beet-red made me exuberant. Although the next parking spot I found was in the back against the wall, I still had pep in my step on my way into work.

  The receptionist took me into Mr. Sable’s office and had me wait for him to arrive. When she opened the door, I stood halfway in the room, shocked. Why is it that corporate gurus always have the best views in their offices? I wondered.

  Directly in front of me, past the office furniture was a window to the Pacific Ocean. Although there are many places around the world that I marvel over, this view was breathtakingly perfect. My day was getting better.

  I wanted to touch everything in his office. A large mahogany desk with a black plush chair pushed in tightly beneath the desk was the first thing I ran my hands over.

  A phone, computer and stapler were the only items neatly arranged on top of his desk, and my hands touched each. I searched high and low for a picture of his wife but to my surprise, there was none. “Interesting,” I whispered.

  I stood behind his office chair and took in the view he looked at every day—the view of the inside of his office, staring toward the door. To his right was a wet bar and past the two chairs in front of his desk there was an entire living room ensemble set up for chatting with clients in a relaxed atmosphere.

  Past the couch and chairs was a coat rack next to the door and to the left were magnificent abstract paintings. One I recognized as work done by Willem de Kooning. His uses of colors were inspiring and carefree.

  I turned around and stared out at the vast ocean outside his window. The sun shone down on the water from behind a few clouds. Its rays floated on top of the water in the same way that they would reflect during a hot summer day. The moving dappled light, something that was so foreign to the Hell where I had grown up, mesmerized me.

  “Thank you for coming in on time,” Quinn Sable said from behind me as he walked into his office, his voice pulling me out of my reverie of Earth.

  That odd, nervous feeling in my stomach started up again. I couldn’t help but feel timid around this man. I needed to adjust myself and project confidence.

  I stood taller, placed my hand on my stomach and inhaled before I turned around. “Of course.” I tilted my head to the side in a quick nod. “Why am I here, Mr. Sable?”

  He motioned for me to take a seat in front of his desk. “You work for my lawyer and I need some help getting my accounting books in order.”

  “No offense, sir, but—”

  “You can call me Quinn.”

  I nodded. “Okay, Quinn. No offense, but don’t you have an accountant that works for you?”

  “Several. They have their jobs and you’re going to have yours.” He stood. “Follow me.”

  For being a twenty-three year old, which I’d looked up on the internet at home on his LinkedIn profile, he sure did carry himself as a much older man. But behind those brown seductive eyes and that award-winning face and smile, I could see he was just a scared guy, close to my age and one who didn’t want all this responsibility.

  Quinn led me into a room attached to his office. The small room had a nice-sized window, small desk and rows of file cabinets.

  “Where’s the door to leave?” I had noticed that the only door to that room was the door connected to Quinn’s office.

  “Need an escape route?” He grinned.

  “No, but I don’t want to bother you each and every time I have to use the restroom.” I tried to be subtle.

  “Small bladder?”

  I heard that smirk in his voice as he led me back into his office. I followed him like a puppy with my tail between my legs. He is full of smart remarks today.

  Quinn pressed the intercom button and a woman’s voice purred. “Yes, Quinn, what can I get for you?”

  “Cassidy, can you bring me a cup of hot tea and a…”

  “Water,” I said.

  “Water for Ms. Hunt.”

  “Sure, Quinn, on my way.” Cassidy’s voice could melt ice cream on a cold day.

  Within seconds, Quinn’s door opened and I turned to greet his secretary, Cassidy. Sure enough, it was that blonde bitch from the parking lot.

  I stood up and turned to face her. She stopped in mid-stride. Her smile and predatory demeanor changed to a kitten trapped in the corner.

  “Mr. Sable, here’s your hot tea.” Her voice was low and less confident. I could imagine her first thought was how important this client was who Mr. Sable had in his office.

  “Thank you, Cassidy.” He grinned at her before he introduced me. “Dhellia, this is my secretary, Cassidy— and Cassidy this is Dhellia, the legal secretary at Law offices of Birch, Weaver and Isenberg. She’s going to be around helping with the books, so I’d appreciate you showing her around.”

  It was at that very moment that I saw her peon brain light up and realize that I was no one that important to her boss. She turned and glared at me. “And water for you.” She lifted the glass to hand it to me and then threw the water in my face.

  I inhaled and backed up, tripping over the sofa chair and somersaulted onto the floor. My tight skirt tore in the back and the carpet scratched up my knees. My blood began to boil.

  Quinn’s head snapped toward Cassidy, fiercely angry—each line on his face showing that anger. “Why did you do that?” his voice was a growling roar—a human growling roar which was much less fierce than say…my brother’s roar.

  “Mr. Sable, she broke the windows in my brand-new car. It’s outside; you can look at it yourself.”

  “How do you know she did that?” He had walked over to help me up off the floor, but I had already managed to get to my feet. I maneuvered my skirt down from around the upper part of my thighs. I was mortified.

  “Because she was arguing with me about the parking spot and the next thing I knew, my windows shattered.”

  I glared at that blonde bitch before I turned around and addressed Mr. Sable. “Quinn, I didn’t touch her car or her car windows. If you have cameras facing the south side of the building, you can view what happened yourself.”

  “Cassidy, I’m going to view the tapes and if Ms. Hunt had nothing to do with your car windows, I’ll have no choice but to let you go.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. You can leave. I’ll call you into my office later.” Quinn turned and addressed me. “I’m so sorry she did that.”

  He walked over to the cabinet under his wet bar and grabbed two dry bar towels. Before I knew it, he had brought the towel up to my face and sopped up the water on my skin.

  My heart was beating against my chest, my clammy hands rested open on the sides of my skirt. I swallowed so loudly, it sounded like I had just swallowed a huge piece of food without chewing it first. His face was inches from mine, his hand warm, and his body almost against mine.

  The scent of his cologne,
his breath and even the detergent he used on his clothes made me disoriented. His rich brown eyes encapsulated specks of green glitter and I felt lost in them.

  Against my desire, but in an attempt to have good judgment, I pulled away and grabbed the towel. “Thanks, I can take it from here.”

  I noticed it took him a moment to regain his composure. He ran his strong hand through his wavy brown hair and exhaled loudly. “Let me look at that tape. Cassidy isn’t usually so aggressive.”

  I sighed louder than I intended to.

  “Do you know something I don’t?” he asked, while he opened a large cabinet with a camera system and monitor.

  I shook my head. He didn’t notice.

  He pulled up the small window in the morning when we’d had our encounter and watched with observatory patience. Sure enough, Quinn could tell that I was going to pull into that parking spot and she stole it, he saw me get out of the car, and I cringed at my aggressive stance.

  But when her windows shattered, I was five feet from her car. He stopped the recording and replayed it several times.

  “That’s strange.”

  “I know. I just told her that I wanted her to move her car, and her windows shattered.”

  “Not that,” he said preoccupied with the recording.

  “What?”

  “Come here. Look at this.” He pointed to the left side of the screen as the windows shattered, and then he paused the film.

  “What are you pointing at?” I asked.

  “This. Do you see it?”

  Sure enough, there was something off to the corner of the screen. It looked like a small demon sucking its thumb. It was transparent and not visual to the naked eye.

  “What in the heck?”

  I’m going to zoom in.

  I moved in closer. “That’s a good idea.”

  Quinn turned and looked at me. “What’s a good idea?”

  “You said you were going to zoom in.”

  “No, I thought that, I didn’t say that.”

  My eyes grew wide. “I could have sworn you said that. Are you sure?” Inwardly, I was cursing at the new power I had of reading minds. How will I know if someone says something if they’re not facing me?

 

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