James complied as quick and fierce as lightning. His lips crashed down on hers and her mouth opened. Their tongues met and she groaned in pleasure, passion spiraling to an ache. Nothing in the universe mattered except her body’s need for James. She pressed even closer against him and felt his own urgent need. His hands were everywhere, but it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted everything.
His strong arms abruptly pushed her trembling body away from him. She started to protest but was spellbound by his stark, hungry eyes. The only sound in the world was their jagged, uneven breathing.
She knew the instant he decided they shouldn’t continue. The naked desire in those dark eyes changed to a mixture of regret and frustration. His lips parted to speak and Callie laid a finger across them.
What if this was the last time she was ever alone with him? Even if they both survived tonight’s ordeal, anything could happen. If she had to leave Piedmont with Lucas in order to prevent a battle, everything was over.
James shook his head and removed her finger from his lips. “No, now isn’t the time, Callie.” His voice was husky but decided.
She gave a loud, frustrated sigh. “When is it going to be the right time? Are you waiting for me to turn forty?”
He laughed and stepped away.
Deep doubt shook her soul. “I know why you keep rejecting me,” she accused. “You’re afraid if we make love, I’ll bind you to me. After all, I’m a witch. Not to be trusted.
“That’s not it. Not now, anyway.” His eyes darkened. “We have no time. But I intend to make love to you, Callie Bradford. Very soon,” he said huskily.
“Promise?”
He pulled her against his chest and kissed her deeply before turning and walking away. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said, looking over his shoulder.
Exactly what she feared.
“We have to hurry,” he urged. “Everyone’s waiting.”
Quickly, she slipped into his BMW.
They sped down the county roads in his sleek car. He’d refused to even consider taking the doodlebug. They were well past Dismals Canyon before she thought to ask how he found her.
“How did you figure out where I was? I told no one. It’s not like Dismals Canyon is high on anyone’s vacay radar.”
“A lot’s happened since you left,” he said with a brief glance. “Skye’s the one who solved that mystery. Your grandmother convinced her to help. She got the information searching your computer records.”
“She’s good with that stuff.”
“You aren’t angry, are you? Your family was frantic.”
She winced. “I left them a note.”
“True.” His voice was carefully neutral.
“All right, I guess it was stupid. But I wasn’t deliberately trying to worry everyone.” Guilt made her sound defensive, even to herself. She glanced at the speedometer and saw it registered eighty-five. “Do you have to drive so fast?”
“Your initiation ceremony starts in three hours. The earlier we get there, the sooner I can make sure all the guards are in place.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What are you talking about?”
“Here’s the short version. Dad and I’ve known for a long time there’s been an unusually large amount of immortal activity. Dad investigated and talked with other immortals living in the area. They observed the same thing. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was all connected to your father.”
“Why would Lucas have anything to do with immortal activity?” she interrupted.
He didn’t answer right away. At last, he spoke up. “When we met your dad that day in the park . . . I knew immediately he was an immortal.”
Her head spun at the news. “Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“You were upset enough. And I didn’t see how it was possible.”
It didn’t make sense. “You said immortals can’t have children.”
“That’s got me stumped too,” he admitted.
“Are you saying he may not be my biological father? That would mean Mom . . .” She shook her head decisively. “No. He’s the only man she’s ever loved and he betrayed her. She probably wishes someone else were my father, but it’s him.”
“You’re sure?”
“I can’t explain it, but I’m certain he’s my dad.”
“I have to admit, I wondered if your mom might have had an affair.”
“There must be some other explanation.” Sudden realization hit. “Oh, hell. No wonder Lucas looks so young. It’s not good genes like he claimed. His face is the same as it was in the old black-and-white photograph—because he’s not aging.” She should have figured this out earlier, but she’d thought immortals sterile. How did Lucas manage to overcome that?
“Maybe being a witch made this possible,” she speculated aloud. “Witches can cast fertility spells and Mom might have done that.”
“Dad wondered if a witch spell was involved in—”
“You talked about this with him?”
“Why not?”
“Because he already can’t stand me.”
James didn’t deny it. “You can’t blame him after the hell Angelique put him through. But he’s done everything he can to help me prepare for tonight.”
“Like what?”
“We met other immortals in these mountains and organized a force. Lucas is a danger to all of us. If he’s a warlock and an immortal, his powers must be doubled. And his coven might be made up of others with the same power.”
“Like Connors,” she agreed. “I think he must be a witch and immortal.”
Fear twisted her gut. Had she done the right thing coming back? Mabel seemed to think so. The thought comforted her. No more running away. It was time she faced her destiny and stood up to Lucas.
“My coven has powers of its own,” she said. “We won’t be defenseless. We can help your allies.”
“That’s what your mom said. We’ll need that help. I’ve no idea how many are in your father’s coven and how many are immortal.”
“You talked to Mom too?”
“Of course, we had to join forces to prepare.”
“Bet your dad loved that,” she muttered.
A police siren exploded out of nowhere. James looked at the flashing blue lights in the rearview mirror. “We could use a little magic right now.”
“I’m on it,” she said, closing her eyes to concentrate. “Go ahead and stop.”
James pulled over, got out his wallet, and rolled down the driver’s side window.
The cop quickly made his way over. “Never mind, son,” he said hurriedly, barely glancing at James’s license. “Everything appears to be in order. Carry on.”
Within a minute, they were speeding back down the road.
“How did you get us out of a ticket?” he asked.
“Easy,” she said with a grin. “I distracted him. By the time he got to your car, the only thing on his mind was taking a pee. I suggested he didn’t have time to fool with us and to go take a whizz.”
He laughed. “You’re full of tricks. It’ll keep me on my toes.”
She didn’t want to ask, what with everything else going on, but she couldn’t stop herself. “What about Theodora?”
He shrugged. “Long gone.”
“You might regret it one day. She was perfect for you.”
“She’d drive me crazy in no time.”
And that was the end of that. Callie smiled in the gathering darkness.
They arrived home where Mom and Grandma Jo waited on the porch, reminding her of the first time she returned to Alabama from Aunt Mallory’s house.
“Hurry and get ready,” Mom said, rushing over. “I’ve left some bergamot and cedar wood essential oils on your tub. Take your ritual bath with them and then put on the white robe Grandma Jo laid out on your bed.”
Grandma Jo smiled at James. “Just in time.”
No recriminations for running away. What a relief.
She faced
James to say goodbye. Her stomach churned. “Please, please be careful.” Oh goddess, protect him.
“I’ll be there the whole time tonight,” he reassured her. “By the way”—he bent and kissed her forehead—“Happy birthday.”
He ambled away to join his fellow immortals without a backward glance.
* * *
The bath was relaxing, but she didn’t dare draw out the purification ritual. She toweled off and put on the white robe Grandma Jo had laid out. A knock sounded at the bedroom door.
“Can I come in?” Skye didn’t wait for an answer. Her face was scrunched with worry. “Are you okay? Are you mad at me for ratting you out?” She clutched a handful of her robe, identical to Callie’s and all the other coven members.
“No.” She gave her a quick hug. “It all happened for a reason. I’m supposed to be here.”
Skye let out a loud sigh of relief. “That’s what Grandma Jo said. Are you nervous?”
“I’m scared to death. But in a strange way, I’m more relieved to get it over with. Will you say a quick prayer with me? I know we’ll pray in the circle, but I wanted a more private one before going in.”
“If you’re sure. I’ll understand if you’d rather be alone.”
Callie lit a candle and dimmed the lights. She placed both her hands in Skye’s, the candle between them.
“Saint Brigid, guardian saint, please give me courage and wisdom and strength for all that is to come this evening.” Callie took the vial Grandmother Mabel gave her and dabbed a drop of the scented oil in the center of her forehead.
Come to me, kind spirit guides,
I invite you be by my side,
And to all earthly love and friends,
You have my heart, love never ends.
* * *
She squeezed Skye’s hands and blew out the candle.
“That’s it?”
“Sometimes the quickest prayers are the best.”
Skye nodded. “Tanner and Michael are waiting downstairs. We’ve got your back tonight, no matter what.”
She hugged Skye again, took a steadying breath, and went downstairs.
“There she is, the mystery girl,” Tanner said. “Are we going to witness a demonstration of your superpowers tonight?”
Callie smiled. She could always count on Tanner to keep it light. “We’ll see.”
Michael took her hand. “We’re your official escorts for this ceremony.”
Tanner pointed to his robe. “We wouldn’t put on these silly robes for just anybody.”
“Thank you.” Her voice choked.
Silently, they walked to the field where the coven gathered by the old oak tree. Over two dozen were there, robed and holding hands in a circle, the high priestess in the middle.
In the center, a bonfire burned, and the hot night air filled with the scent of dried herbs cast into the fire. Orange and yellow ribbons honoring the sun hung from nearly every branch of the tree. Mom and Grandma Jo smiled reassuringly and motioned them forward.
Outside the glowing circle, Callie sensed the shadowy presence of her father and his coven. She faltered slightly in her step, but knowing James was nearby propelled her forward. Even though she couldn’t see him, he was out there watching over her.
The summer solstice ritual was in full swing. She and her friends joined hands with the group and began the ritual chanting.
Now day and night are one in length,
Now earth harvest is at full strength.
We honor moon and stars and sun,
We celebrate the all in one.
“Caledonia Bradford, come to the altar,” the high priestess commanded.
She entered the circle. Nothing would ever be the same once she left it. She knelt before the high priestess.
The priestess placed a hand on the crown of her head. “Do you come to us in perfect love and perfect trust and of your own free will?”
“I do.” Her voice was calm and clear in the silence.
The priestess searched the faces of the gathered coven. “Do you all agree to guide and protect her as a member of this coven?”
“We do,” they said in unison.
“Arise and be anointed, Caledonia.”
James staggered and shook his head to clear the dizziness. What the hell just happened? He brought a hand to his brow and swiped the sticky warmth spreading down his cheeks. Blood. He slowly turned in a circle, seeking the attacker.
A whoosh came through the air, and another burst of pain exploded on his right shoulder. A large chunk of rock fell to the ground by his feet.
A slight rustle of branches from above drew his attention. A young boy, who appeared about eleven or twelve years old, sat in a large oak branch, hand poised in the air to throw another missile.
“Who are you?” James shouted. He ran toward the tree to demand an answer.
The boy jumped down from a height of over fifteen feet, stumbling as he landed. That slight loss of footing allowed James to catch up to him.
He grabbed the boy’s arm. “Answer me. Who are you?”
The kid was an immortal, no doubt about it. Despite his short height and underdeveloped muscles, he proved difficult to hold. The kid kicked him in the shin and, even worse, bit him in the arm.
James let go with a yelp, and the kid took off again, agile as a cat. Shit. The boy was quick. James pursued but began to lose ground.
A full grown immortal emerged out of nowhere blocking his path, sword raised in challenge. He wore the long, black cloak that marked him as one of Lucas’s men.
“Prepare to die,” he said in a low, throaty growl.
Sword thrust against sword, the silver blades dancing in the moonlight.
James quickly gained the advantage and pressed his sword on the immortal’s neck. “Give me your sword and I’ll spare your life.”
His enemy readily agreed, but as James stepped back, the immortal scrambled to his feet and fled into the darkness, sword still in hand.
James bit back a curse. “Lucas’s men have no honor,” he muttered in disgust.
Another whoosh rent the air. James ducked, and a rock sailed over his head. The damn kid was back. He turned quickly, observing a faint movement in the brush before it stilled. If he was going to get the kid, he’d have to outsmart him because he damn sure couldn’t outrun him.
James sheathed his sword at his side and proceeded down a trail close to where he’d seen the movement. He kept his eyes straight ahead, as if he was unknowing his enemy lay in wait. The trail took him three feet from the spot. As he drew near, James suddenly whirled and ran to where the kid was hiding. He grabbed his arm again, firmer this time.
“Are you with Lucas?” he demanded.
The boy’s blue eyes widened in innocence. “Lucas? I’m with Carter MacLauren. Who are you?” His voice had the high-pitched tone of a preadolescent male.
“James MacLauren.” He released his hold. “I’ve never met such a young-looking immortal. How old are you?”
The boy frowned. “Twelve at my mortal death, but immortal for twenty-one years.” A crafty look flashed in the boy’s eyes, but it was gone so quick, James wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.
His skin prickled and chills chased his spine. Another immortal was behind him. He whirled around, sword raised.
“Look out. He’s got a dagger,” a familiar voice yelled.
A steel blade pierced his back, burning like fire. He dropped to his knees, and the kid jumped on top of him, another dagger aimed at his throat. James managed to raise his own knife and block the blow. The kid was strong but no match for him. James rolled to the side and pointed his weapon at the kid’s chin.
“Please don’t,” the boy said in that childish voice.
He looked so damn young. James hesitated. “Promise not to strike again.”
Tears ran down the boy’s cheeks.
“It’s all right,” James said, removing the knife. “I’m not going to hurt you.” James eased up on an elbow.
Before he could move away, a broadsword sliced through the boy’s neck, sending a spray of blood raining down.
A large immortal with long, black hair blocked the moon’s light. “Never trust anyone, not even a kid,” he said, extending an arm to James.
James felt himself being lifted. Already, his injuries were healing. “Andrew Scott. You made I here after all.?”
“You once spared my life, and I vowed I would save yours if I ever had the opportunity.”
James nodded. “Thank you.”
They shook hands.
“Shall I watch over you while the wakening comes?” James asked. “Lucas may have more men nearby.”
“The boy was young; the wakening will be brief. You better return to the witch’s bonfire.”
The priestess dabbed consecrated moon water on the top of Callie’s head and drew a pentagram in the air. She turned Callie to face the coven. “As you all know, tonight is special. Let’s join our energy as we bless our newest member.”
This is it. She was light-headed with anticipation as she stared at the full moon. It glowed with the sheen of an abalone seashell with swirls of mauves, lavenders, pinks, and silver. The colors transformed into a mist. A cauldron of emotions brewed inside her. Bolts of electric energy pulsated in the air, creating a thunderstorm in her brain. The energy coursed through her and charged every nerve as her aura blended with the coven members.
Out of the pastel mist, figures appeared—the ancestral spirit guides Mabel foretold. One-by-one they approached with their individual Gifts. All looked to be her age but from different times and cultures.
The first spirit was a plaid-clothed Scottish girl holding an herbal bouquet. “For herbal knowledge,” she said with a Celtic lilt.
The second guide was an olive-skinned Native American maiden with a crow perched on her outstretched finger. “To be at one with Mother Nature and the Great Spirits is my Gift.”
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 73