“Yes. Can I trust you not to say anything to the rest of the employees?”
The phrasing was just what she needed to hear, as Candy suggested it might be. It puts her in a position of power, knowing more than her fellow employees, and might garner her trust in sharing witch knowledge with an outsider.
“After everything we’ve been through, you should know I can be discreet, Jon.” Her sexy smile is back, like the old Diane I know so well. “Besides, most of them would prefer to forget that I’m a card-carrying witch.”
“Fantastic, thanks. Vivian prompted me to ask you first, and then do more research on my own before I join them. I’m tempted to call Cy, too, but don’t know that he’ll be able to dig up anything you don’t already know firsthand.”
I glance down at my notes again, even though there’s not much listed there. The diversion helps to keep me from looking into her pain-filled green eyes. She might deny it, but I can tell she still has feelings for me. Dammit. I never wanted to hurt her.
I start with the first item on my list. “Can you tell me the difference between a witch and a wizard?” My pen is poised to begin taking notes as soon as she starts speaking.
“I can tell you what my aunt explained to me when I first came into my powers, although I’m sure there is a more definitive answer in an ancient book somewhere. A witch is born with magic, whereas a wizard is not. A wizard, be it a man or woman, takes magic from the world around them via spells, powders, magical objects, and a wide assortment of ingredients. Often leaving an imbalance in their wake if they aren’t careful in their magic usage.
“Compared to us, wizards are considered abnormal. A witch or warlock, a male witch, is born with an affinity for magic. They are gifted in different traits found in nature, and all inherit a tendency to excel with one type of elemental magic over another. But with proper training and lots of practice, a witch can learn to use all the elements in their magic.”
“What do you mean by elemental magic?”
“An element found in nature—fire, water, air, earth—get it?”
I nod and look back over the notes I’d just written. “How does one become a wizard if they are not born with inherent magical ability like a witch is?”
“They need someone to teach them. Many cultures have a form of elemental magic, and the practitioners aren’t always called witches. Some are shaman, druids, wise women… you get the idea. But others not born with the innate ability still seek out the mysteries of controlling and using magic. I’m sure at one point the two types of practitioners were more closely knit, like say perhaps a sibling or child of a witch who had an interest in magic, who wasn’t born with the trait, but still wanted to learn.
“Something must have happened at one point, because even if my theory is right, the division between the two magical practices is permanent now. I don’t know how wizards developed their spells, how they draw magic out of the things around them without a born affinity, or how they expand their knowledge base. I do know that in certain instances, they can conjure spells that are more powerful than a single witch can do on her own—we use a coven for complicated magic.
“Mainly, I’d say wizards are more focused on amassing knowledge for self-preservation and material gain than witchcraft users. We’re much more about balancing the whole and doing no permanent harm.”
“Does that mean a wizard’s spells are not balanced?”
“I don’t know.”
“And what happens with an imbalance caused by wizard magic?”
She shrugs. “Beats me. I’m not a wizard. Sorry.”
“You’re aunt never went into detail on it?”
Diane looks toward the bright window over the sink, gnawing on her lower lip. “Hmm… I was really young when we first talked about it. I think she mentioned ‘bad things’ would happen if the balance wasn’t restored while casting, but she never went into what the bad things were.”
“Okay, fair enough. I’ll have to dig up more on my own.” I check my list again. “What can you tell me about the vampire saying, ‘never turn a witch’?”
“Huh, that’s a new one. I’ve never heard it before. Could be because I’m not a vampire.” She winks. “But hey, you’ve got one who’s real close to you. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you asking.”
“If you didn’t have an answer that was going to be my next step.” I look up from my notes, apprehension bubbling in my middle before I ask about the next thing on my mind. “You know the amulets you used to make for me?” She nods, a spark lighting in her eyes in remembrance of the sex charms I needed to enjoy the act and block images of Dria from overriding all else. “Is it possible to make something similar, but to help strengthen my mental shields?”
Understanding dawns in her intelligent gaze almost instantly. She’s way more perceptive than I’d like. “You haven’t told Vivian about Candy yet and you need to make sure the vamp can’t easily pry into your thoughts?” She snorts. “Good luck with that. There’s no spell I know of that can dull the bond between a master vampire and her servant if she really wants to get into your head.”
I rise from the table, awkward now that I asked. “Thanks.”
“Wait a second,” she reaches toward me, dropping her hand when she realizes she’s about to touch me. “What about meditating on your own and learning to build a wall to protect your innermost thoughts? It might help.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll try that.” Realizing I’ve never been particularly good at meditating I ask, “Do you have any suggestions on how?”
Diane smiles, the look in her eyes filled with more of a fondness now than anything else. “You betcha.” She glances at the table and hard chairs. “We’ll need to get comfortable. Follow me.”
She rises and moves to the living room, no hint of guile in her movements. Apprehension seeps into me at the thought of sitting next to her on the couch. After all, this is the same woman who tried to tear down my pants and suck me off outside the gentleman’s lounge a few months ago. We never did get together after that. I was too uncomfortable with her affection and determination to win my desire.
“Relax, Jon.” She points to the oversized chair while she takes a seat on the couch. “If we can’t get the tension out of you, you’ll never be any good at this.”
I take the offered seat, feeling stupid. “I’m not tense.”
“Uh-huh, sure. You look like a nervous virgin on prom night. Chill.” She winks. “I’ve had you, and not that I’d kick you out of my bed for eating crackers, but I can understand you’re not on the market anymore.”
I settle back in the soft cushion, a deep sigh easing out of me. “Thanks, Diane. We never had a chance to really become friends and I’d like it if we could.”
Sadness flits across her face, quickly replaced by determination. “Okay now, close your eyes, be quiet, and listen to my voice. I’m going to start with a simple guided meditation. If you like it you can download others off the Internet—I’ll give you some site recommendations.”
Her voice slows as she begins to walk me through basic relaxation techniques. Very soon, I’m floating in a peaceful cloud of contentment, happy to picture the serene images she’s painting with her mellow voice.
We spend the next hour going through several techniques and mantras to build inner walls within my mind. Kind of funny that a guy has to ask how to deliberately hide his feelings and thoughts when most of us have been doing it unconsciously our whole lives.
When she leaves, I feel good. Good that I may be able to have a friendship with a former lover, good that I’ve begun to build a sense of self away from the dynamic couple, and even better that I have Candy waiting for me in my cabin.
Speaking of which, I’ve got a surprise planned for her. And I better get going.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Vivian
I settle back into the seat, grateful the flight is almost over. I prefer flying in my own jet, rather than renting a private plane, but there was no choice since Drew and the others fl
ew back to Alaska in ours.
Apprehension tightens my gut. I know, somehow sense, Jon has been physically intimate with someone from the big game hunting trip last month, but I don’t want to ask who she is. Prying is not my style. I want him to find happiness more than anything, and I think having to discuss his recent relationship status with Rafe and me will add unwanted stress to a budding attraction.
He’s young, almost twenty-nine, and could easily grow his small pack. The real problem is making sure said pack remains happy right where Jon is, by my side, which won’t be changing any time soon.
The smartest move would be to enlist his whole pack as my vampire servants, but I don’t want the responsibility of so many souls bound to mine. Especially if something were to happen, like if Coraline succeeded in killing me. Rafe and Jon are strong enough to stand on their own if I died a true death, never to return from the dark abyss. But what about a weaker person, or a newer bond—how would they fare?
Yes, this is definitely not the time to experiment and try to find out. Eric and Pat, the new werewolves in Jon’s pack, are both capable young men, but in the coming years they could decide to break from this pack to start their own—which would be impossible if they were bound to me as well. A vampire servant is usually bound for life.
I know I could break such a union if I had to. In dire circumstances, I’ve been able to destroy other people’s mate bonds, which is the the binding between a vampire and a servant that makes them virtually equal in power. Doing so comes with inherent risks, like death, so it’s not something I want to do on a regular basis.
I’ve often thought that only a strong mate for Jon could be a viable second vampire servant for me, but finding a woman who fits that role is not up to me, it’s up to Jon. I could essentially make a bond work with anyone, of that I have no doubt.
Will he think about what it means to the three of us when he allows someone close to him, or will his passion rule his heart and head?
Either way, I have to keep my mouth shut. If he hasn’t been paying attention the past seven years, then I’ve really failed as a master. I may never have set out to have a seethe of my own, but I’ve always known how to treat people with decency and have never forgotten how the struggles in my early years as a vampire shaped me.
The solitude of the private plane’s cabin is disturbed only by the deep breathing of one of the snoozing, off-duty pilots. I decide to indulge in quiet meditation for the rest of the flight, all too aware that I need to be sharp for the next stages of our investigating.
Before I know it, the plane touches down smoothly on the runway. I stand when the pilot says it’s safe, smoothing my long sweater over my leggings. Within minutes, I’m descending from the plane in a private hangar.
“Madame,” an attendant calls to me. “There’s a room ready for your arrival, if you’ll follow me.” A private suite sits in the back of the small hangar, obviously set up for elite passengers while a plane becomes ready. It will be a perfect place to relax and wait for Rafe to arrive.
“Do you have a status on the flight to Alaska?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s received great tail winds and is expected to land ahead of schedule. Should arrive very late tonight and be ready to fly back within a few hours.”
I nod, smiling my thanks, and follow the trim young woman to the far end. She opens a steel door and steps back, ushering me in before her. The moment the door opens, I smell him. Rafe is already here.
“Liebling,” he says in a quiet exhalation of breath, calling me the German endearment for darling. The lines in his rugged face smooth out at my arrival, making him look younger than his normal appearance of a man in his mid-thirties. He towers over me by at least five inches, even in my heels, his heavily-muscled body dwarfing mine by over a hundred pounds. He’s wearing dark casual pants and a thin navy sweater. Both drape over his frame like they were made for him.
I step into the room and my husband’s thick arms wrap around me. “I’ve missed you, my dear.”
I mimic his actions, draping my arms over his shoulders, nuzzling his neck, and take a deep breath, drawing in the familiar male-muskiness that’s unique to him. “Me, too, you big lug.”
His large hands roam down my spine, settling at the small of my back. “I don’t sleep as well if you’re not near me.”
“Really?” I say, a slight teasing note in my voice. “That says a lot, considering I rarely sleep in bed with you.”
He pulls back, far enough to place his lips on mine. It’s a tender touching of mouths, not a hungry devouring like I’m aching to do.
He ends the kiss, his warm breath tickling my cheek. “Maybe that’s because what we do in bed when you’re not sleeping tires me.”
“Oh?” I kiss his cheek tenderly. “So what you’re saying is you miss me as a work-out partner?”
He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest into mine where we touch. “You do help keep me in shape.” He circles his hips, teasing me with his blatant arousal. “Can you feel how much I’ve missed you, love? Haven’t you missed what only I can give you?”
I smile. A wicked grin, I’m sure. “Did you come here hoping to ‘mark’ me before Jon arrives? Really, darling, we have all night and all day tomorrow, and besides, he knows I’m yours. He’s known it for years. You don’t need to beat your chest every time he’s near.”
Rafe fists a hand in my hair, tugging hard, tilting my head back. “This has nothing to do with Jon. I swear. Perhaps it’s something in the air…” He trails kisses over my face, leading to my mouth. “Perhaps it’s the constant danger of trailing vampires and staking out the Tribunal…” His mouth locks onto mine for a sweet kiss that quickly deepens to passionate. “But I need you—for me. Not to prove anything to anyone.”
One hand shifts to my front, sliding between us to grasp my right breast. He squeezes hard, displaying his urgency better than any words. “Will you deny your husband?”
I stare into his bright blue eyes, overcome by the love and desire I see shining back at me. “Never.”
My hands slide down to his pants, urging him to take them off. The two-week separation from him has me creaming in my panties, eager to satisfy a craving only he can fulfill. He complies with my subtle request in lightning fast movements, divesting us both of our confining clothes in record time. Once we stand nude, staring at one another, the heat of lust coloring our skin, I lurch forward, clasping him to me in desperation. My mouth locks onto his and I’m lost to the passion that rolls over us.
Full darkness has descended as we leave the hangar in search of transportation. Rafe grabbed my bag, left by the attendant near the door. I scan up and down the narrow drive, looking for the lights of our hired car.
“Over here, my love.” Rafe palms a shiny key fob, depressing one of the buttons. A tiny chirp sounds from a sleek sedan parked nearby. Glossy, dark blue paint reflects the distant street light.
I change direction toward the expensive car. “Bought yourself a new toy, did you?”
“Can you blame me?” He runs a hand lovingly over the hood in passing, making his way to the trunk to deposit my luggage. “I’d never get to drive something like this on our snow-packed roads on the resort.”
I glance at the front emblem of four interlocking circles. “I agree. No need for an Audi above the Arctic Circle.”
He opens my door before proceeding around the car to the driver’s side. “I knew you’d understand.”
I withhold the snarky snort itching to escape and settle into the buttery soft seats. “I’m glad it makes you happy. It’s only money.”
“Spoken like only someone with a whole lot of it would proclaim.”
Rafe starts the car and steers us to the main road, proudly showing off the posh interior features in case I might care. Which I don’t. And he knows. But he’s so excited and I’m currently content, so I see no need to burst his bubble of joy.
Once we approach the older section of the city, I break into his ongoi
ng sales pitch for the Audi. “I want to go to the Tribunal. Tonight.”
Concern furrows his brow as he pays attention to the busy streets. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I know you’ve got your doubts, and I can understand your side of things. But I don’t think the entire Tribunal was in on what Coraline and the others were doing. They may be perfectly willing to serve Rolando up on a platter to keep the peace. I won’t know until I ask.”
“You plan on barging in and demanding they tell you where he is?”
“Yes, because that worked so well for Drew and Paul a few weeks ago, right? Their time in the Tribunal’s underground holding cells was not pleasant, I’m sure.” I stare out the window and consider my choices. Rafe hasn’t been able to track Rolando from the Seat of Darkness, nor has he questioned anyone with any success. I’m a long time member of this stupid governing body. I have rights to stop by and ask to see someone if I want to.
Rafe must have been listening in on my thoughts, because he says, “Oh yes, and of course it’s no big deal to waltz right in after you were held hostage there, possibly unawares by the eleven ruling ancients, we’re not sure, to demand to see one of the inner circle who was known to betray you recently. Yeah, sure. That’ll happen.”
A tiny bubble of annoyance blooms within me. I’m unsure if it’s directed at him or me.
“We can make it casual.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. And they’ll know that. That’s why someone from the Tribunal asked about you after I broke you out, sent flowers while you were healing… oh, wait. That never happened. These people don’t care about you, liebling. And I will not have you walking into danger—again. I don’t want you to go tonight. It’s risky, there’s no plan of attack, or one for escape, for that matter. I don’t agree with this course of action.”
I smile in the dark. My husband’s frustration fills the car between us like a buzz of angry bees. “You almost sound like you’re ready to proclaim ‘I forbid you from going.’”
He snorts, the tension easing out of him. “I know you. That would go over like a fart in church.”
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