Enspelled

by Samantha Stone

  To his surprise, a smiling Briony wrapped her arms around him in a hug before pulling back only enough to place a light kiss on his lips.

  “Thank you,” she said before giving him a firmer kiss. She didn’t release her hold on him while they waited for the spirits in the conduit to make their decision.

  Finally Gris-Gris shifted to sit at their feet, its eyes a glowing green.

  We’ve come to a compromise, many voices said, a woman leading them all. We can’t just fix the school—that would tell the humans more than they should know about the capabilities of creatures. They’re not ready to know the possibilities the world really offers.

  Nodding in agreement, Sebastian relayed the message to Briony.

  “You’re right,” she murmured reluctantly.

  Three blocks from the school is a building owned by Xavier University. Mrs. Landry’s husband is on staff there and can pull the strings to allow classes to be held in that building until construction of the new school is complete. The only thing stopping this from occurring without our help lack of money to rebuild.

  Gris-Gris smiled now, looking scarily like the Cheshire cat.

  Sebastian exchanged a glance with a wide-eyed Briony, whose grip on his hand was becoming almost too strong for a weakening mortal.

  “I love that you’re expressing happiness, but that’s a little scary, honey.” She smiled at the cat tentatively.

  Sebastian wanted to laugh.

  Watch this, came a child’s voice. Stripes formed across Gris-Gris’s coat and it floated in the air, its smile growing, brightening with its eyes as the body faded away. With a pop! the cat disappeared completely only to reappear in normal form, pawing innocently at the back of Briony’s legs.

  Releasing an exasperated breath, Briony sat on the floor to collect her new familiar into her lap. Sebastian took a seat next to her, leaning his shoulder against hers.

  “Tell us how you’re going to get them the money they need,” Briony coaxed, stroking its now-gray fur.

  A check is going to appear on the principal’s desk at home…now.

  When Sebastian told her, Briony sighed in relief, giving Gris-Gris a wobbly smile. Her cheekbones were becoming more pronounced, as were the shadows under her eyes. Patches of red marred the beautiful skin of her face and neck. Now that Sebastian was paying attention, he could feel her low-grade fever.

  She really was dying.

  Yet here she was, refusing to focus on herself in lieu of a number of humans she’d never met.

  “Where is that money coming from?” she asked. “I doubt you can just produce money.” This, Sebastian was sure, was her way of saying, “because warlocks can’t produce money.”

  He really hated the way she’d been gagged.

  An inability to create money was a strange rule he’d never considered before. Wasn’t money simply bits of old, weathered paper?

  The warlocks’ account at Whitney Bank, Gris-Gris answered in a young woman’s voice. They turned to Sebastian. They have enough money not to notice this much going missing, but they’re always on their guard. They’ll know about this soon, but we’ll know as soon as they’ve seen the withdrawal.

  Sebastian nodded, deciding not to remark upon this around Briony. She had enough to worry about.

  My pack and Gris-Gris can take care of the warlocks, he told the conduit silently.

  He doubted they would look at their accounts today, anyway.

  At least he hoped not, because today he had work to do and it had nothing to do with witches and warlocks. Instead, it had everything to do with a certain mortal whose life he couldn’t bear to see snuffed out.

  He’d awoken in the wee hours of the morning in a cold sweat, the image of Briony turning to ash in his hands burning itself in his mind. Instead of mourning, he’d refused to consider the image could ever come to be.

  It wouldn’t, so long as he could convince her to become a werewolf. And he had a perfect venue where he could accomplish this: tonight’s Bachelor’s Ball, where Sophia, Heath, Alexandre, and Leila would be. To everyone’s shock, Cael had opted not to go, and Aiyanna seemed perfectly content with his decision.

  When they’d discussed it a month ago in the living room, he’d been sure the shapeshifter would turn a nearby lamp into a projectile, but she’d only shrugged and said there would always be next year.

  Not if the warlocks win.

  He could plan the warlock’s demise tomorrow. Tonight, he had to convince Briony to live.

  He rose to his feet and produced his invitation to the ball from his desk, holding it out to Briony.

  “This is tonight. Would you go with me? I’d meant to ask you after the wedding, but with everything that’s happened…” He trailed off, knowing it was a lame excuse. Leila had been planning tonight’s details for weeks. He cursed inwardly; he knew better than to give a woman too little notice.

  He also sounded like a human child who didn’t know how to talk to women. Was he blushing? Seriously?

  If Heath had pulled this on Sophia, Sebastian was fairly certain she would have laughed in his face.

  Only Briony didn’t appear annoyed at his proposition or amused by his behavior. Her smile was wide, and her eyes bright.

  Excitement positively radiated from her.

  “I was hoping you’d ask me,” she exclaimed, pulling him into another hug. “I’ve heard Leila and Sophia talking about it, and I so wished you would take me as your date.”

  Weariness was still apparent across her visage and the fragile set of her shoulders, but her health didn’t diminish her joy.

  She picked up Gris-Gris and set her on the desk. Leaning down, she told him, “You’re going to be my fairy god-kitty. Will you find me a dress for the ball?”

  A thump sounded from Sebastian’s closet. A crack appeared in the wall before it sealed itself and disappeared.

  Sebastian winced, wondering what the damn conduit did to his collection of one-button Armani suits.

  Briony ran to his closet, but Sebastian opted for a more cautious approach. He waited until he heard the quiet rustling of fabric before entering what used to be an average-sized closet filled with designer suits and the odd button-down from Perlis, his favorite store in the city.

  He had no problem looking like the cutthroat businessman he was.

  Only now, his untouched suits took up only a fourth of the room this new space had to offer. The back wall was an organization of men and women’s shoes, all of which he recognized to be heinously expensive.

  Not that Briony seemed to care.

  She was sifting through the hanging dresses so quickly some of them fell to the ground, regarding a few designers Sebastian recognized as Sophia’s favorites like they were trash.

  Amused, he made a mental note to offer Briony’s rejects to his sister. Briony was taller than Sophia, but he was confident Gris-Gris could make the alterations with an absent thought.

  I shouldn’t be surprised, he chided himself. Briony was unlike any other woman he’d ever met. Why would she become normal now? Besides, he couldn’t see her wearing the tiny black dress she was holding up, wide-eyed.

  She hung it back up on the metal rod, pulling her hand away as if it burned her.

  Briony didn’t so much as glance at the Yves St. Laurent tag.

  Sebastian couldn’t help it; he laughed, earning himself an irritated look from her. When he didn’t stop, she walked over, put her hand on her cocked hip, and narrowed her eyes.

  “What’s so funny?” she demanded.

  “You just don’t give a shit,” he gasped, fully aware he was grinning stupidly. “You’re tossing away dresses most women would kill for.” Literally.

  She blushed, but shook her head. “Why would anyone wear this? I can see that it costs $2000, but it’s made of strings.” She pressed the dress against her front and pulled a group of said strings apart, revealing her clothed breast. “I don’t think I’d be able to st
op myself from flashing someone in this. I like to dance in the nude, but preferably around people I know.”

  Sebastian only laughed harder.

  As she spoke, Gris-Gris sat very still on its cushion, which was now positioned at the end of the massive closet. When Briony threw up her hands, allowing the garment in question to fall into a growing heap, Gris-Gris looked up at Sebastian.

  She’s unhappy, a surprised female voice told him.

  The woman’s statement sobered him. She really was frustrated, that much was clear. Feeling slightly guilty, he moved to the rack nearest Gris-Gris and started to look at the dresses, only pulling out the ones he could see Briony wearing.

  Okay, and the ones he wanted to see her in.

  “Maybe try something less…clingy. Think about what she likes to wear,” he whispered.

  Briony frowned the most when a dress was especially small, as if she’d never consider putting such a thing on.

  Suddenly, almost all the clothes disappeared. Only a small rack of the dresses and Sebastian’s suits remained. For Sophia, a young-sounding girl said.

  He nodded in thanks, his mouth dropping open when the closet filled with color. Grinning, he kissed the top of Briony’s head as he watched a slow smile spread across her face.

  “Better,” she murmured quietly. “Much better.”

  * * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

  It was the second time Sophia had asked her this in the past few hours. Aiyanna didn’t mind. She liked being a part of the pack, even if it wasn’t in the capacity she’d prefer: as Cael’s mate.

  Even if that never panned out, she still had a family here and a loyal friend in Cael.

  It’ll have to be enough. Just in case.

  Because he might never come around. An eternal optimist to her core, she held out hope that one day he’d wake up and decide to risk it all in order to be with her.

  They knew they were meant to be together.

  Their attraction was tangible, tugging at them mercilessly whenever they were within 100 yards of one another.

  But if they ever went there, he might kill her.

  Sure, it was a serious mood-killer, but Aiyanna could be one tough cat when she wanted to be. She was a panther, after all. Well, part panther. She could shapeshift into one at the drop of a hat, unlike the werewolves who could only change form at the full moon, unwillingly and with no control of themselves.

  That really had to suck, but Aiyanna had always kept her opinion of their wolfish ways to herself. Not everyone could be a big, badass cat like her.

  Speaking of badass, someone in the firehouse was screwing with her every time she went into panther form. The last time she’d changed, she’d looked down to see her fur was pink and glittery instead of her trademark black.

  The prank had Briony written all over it, but the since the witch’s powers had been stripped away she couldn’t have possibly completed a spell that complex.

  While everyone was at the Bachelor’s Ball, she planned to get to the bottom of the obnoxious mystery. She liked pink, but not that much.

  “Aiyanna?”

  Sophia pointed her eyeliner pencil like a weapon, and Aiyanna was sure that if anyone could make such a mundane object lethal, that werewolf could. Sophia could be downright scary when she wanted to be.

  “I’m sorry.” Aiyanna handed her a tube of mascara. “No, third wheeling with a newly mated couple and two couples who will probably be mated soon doesn’t sound like my idea of a rockin’ evening.” She did the math in her head for a moment. “Not third wheeling, seventh wheeling. Nope, there’s absolutely no way.”

  Sophia raised a newly plucked, auburn eyebrow. “Heath told me this is strange for you, and from that fight you and Cael got into a couple of weeks ago when he wouldn’t take you to the opening night of that club you were so excited about…” She trailed off, folding her arms.

  Aiyanna groaned. Of course, Sophia remembered the one time she’d yelled at Cael in full view of the entire pack. Well, the one time she’d done that since Sophia and Heath moved back after their world travels.

  She’d wanted to go to the opening of Sweet so badly. The owner was an Australian who used to have a milkshake bar in Sydney and wanted to create a fusion of sweets and cocktails. One of their drink menus boasted pastries stuck through the straws and candy placed on top of the pastries. Naturally, almost every woman in the city wanted to go.

  Cael wasn’t so convinced.

  Not long before the opening of Sweet, Cael and Aiyanna had made an agreement to remain friends after he finally admitted the reason he’d been exiled without release, unlike other members of his pack: he’d killed the last woman he slept with.

  It was an accident, but the tragedy still weighed heavily upon him, the ghost of that woman hovering between them every time they so much as walked past one another.

  Aiyanna planned to lull him into believing she was trying this his way, only the stubborn were was too cautious around her to slip into the traps she set. When she wore an especially short skirt he kept his eyes on her face.

  When she put on that perfume she knew he loved, he avoided her altogether.

  The night of Sweet’s opening, she’d been fed up with it all. She just wanted to go on a date with the man she knew could fall in love with her if he let himself…and some boozy chocolate wouldn’t hurt anything, either.

  But it had been too much to ask of Cael, who’d thought attending the event would be too close to a real date. So she’d become upset and yelled at him while he stood there silently, pleading with his eyes for her to give him a break.

  “Do you think it’s easy to live the life of a monk?” he’d asked quietly when Heath pulled Sophia from the room and Mary herded everyone else away. “I haven’t had sex in almost one hundred years.”

  “That’s your own fault!” she shot back, her tone reaching that high pitch that made him grimace and irked even her ears. “I’ve tried to jump your bones since the moment I met you, so don’t look at me like I’m the reason for your celibacy.”

  “You know damn well why I won’t touch you,” he growled.

  “I know you’re too much of a coward to try.”

  Her harsh words made him flinch, but he stood his ground, his dark blue eyes flashing. “Don’t ask me to go with you to anything like that again. I’ll take care of you however you need and keep you safe, but I won’t ever be your date—to anything—again.”

  They’d barely spoken since that night, only discussing pack business or Briony’s situation with the warlocks when they did.

  Although when she’d decided to move into the firehouse to heal Briony should she need it, he hadn’t been pleased. She’d been forced to tell him about the witch’s condition and make him promise not to tell Sebastian.

  “You have to possess a certain level of evil, an irredeemable level of evil, to purposely kill a woman like that.” Cael’s fists had been clenched while he spoke, and she knew he wanted to go after the warlocks and torture each one of them until they admitted that harming women was wrong.

  The rumor was, he’d done that with a group of vampires who’d settled in the city some fifty years ago. She strongly suspected it was true since the creatures rarely ventured here and when they did, they kept well away from the werewolves.

  “I don’t mind that he won’t take me, since he’s made it abundantly clear that he won’t be my date for anything,” Aiyanna said honestly.

  The werewolf shrugged. “Then take someone else.”

  Aiyanna shook her head. “It’s not that simple—Cael gets crazy jealous, and it would hurt him.”

  Sophia’s face grew hard. “You’re telling me you can’t date him or anyone else?” She pulled out her phone. “I’m not letting you play that way. Find something to wear—you’re going tonight.”

  As soon as the words were out, a messy pile of designer dresses landed on Sophia and Heat
h’s bed with a thump.

  “What the hell?” Aiyanna exclaimed, finding half of them to be her size, the other half more suited for Sophia’s tiny stature.

  “It’s probably that conduit cat.”

  That explains my fur problem. Depending on the amount of power in the conduit, those spirits could do almost anything.

  Sophia’s phone beeped. “I have a date for you, so you can’t back out now.” Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t let a man run your life that way.”

  Aiyanna held back a moan, wishing she could hide under the heap of clothes until tomorrow morning. This wasn’t what Cael wanted for her. He’d even tried to convince her to move away so she could have a chance at a normal life without him. He couldn’t leave the city, or she was certain he would have moved as far away from her as he could.

  To protect her.

  All of his damning decisions were made in fear of harming her, the memory of the woman he’d killed driving him to believe she would meet that same fate the moment he let his guard down.

  She was terrified that ghost would drive him mad.

  Aiyanna was certain, however, her attendance at the ball tonight would send Cael into a tailspin. She dreaded meeting this mystery date, and although she disliked ever being unkind to anyone, she’d make it clear just how uninterested she was. She didn’t want anyone but Cael.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she wished Sophia wasn’t such a good friend.

  Nothing good could come of this night.

  Chapter 12

  WHEN the New Orleans Country Club came into Briony’s sight, she felt as if she’d taken a handful of random potion ingredients and eaten them. Her stomach was knotted and her hands were becoming sore from developing arthritis. Her fingers throbbed, clenched around her purse so tight she was afraid it couldn’t be pried from her hand.

  She hadn’t been to such an exclusive event since Big Mama was their coven’s High Witch. Noam steered them into a more reclusive state, discouraging attendance at debutante or Mardi Gras balls.

  Things had certainly changed in the past eighty years. Would a band still play?