The maid was still crying, slumped to her knees on the floor. She moved cautiously toward the woman and took her dressing gown off so she could wrap it around her.
“What’s your name?” she asked softly, realizing the woman needed reassurance.
“Melanie,” the young woman sniffed.
Anya inspected the wound. It wasn’t that deep but she’d need a healer or a healing patch soon. Taking the tie to the robe, she wrapped it around her head like a bandage so it would sop up some of the blood.
“Melanie, when we’re done here, you need to go to the kitchen and get that wound attended to. I’m sure that Mrs. Beetle is adept at healing up cuts like yours—and hopefully Silver Gables is equipped with a healing kit that works like magic. However did you come by it?”
“I…” Melanie looked unwilling to confess what she must have thought was an unforgivable sin.
“You must tell me in order for me to fix it.”
“I was in the groundskeeper’s house. Kieran Kildare can be so charming and his smile—” Melanie sighed dreamily. “I was in his bed, mistress. We’re not supposed to mess around with the male servants—Mr. Reeves will sack me for this and I can’t lose such a well-paying job.”
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, Melanie. Continue your story, I need to hear all of it,” Anya said, pressing her forward.
Melanie gulped back her tears, and let out a sniffle. “I followed Kieran out when he went to confront those devils…one of them smacked me in the head and he was wearing an awfully hard signet ring. That’s what did this to me,” she said, touching the bloody gash. “Kieran went to defend me and the Bloodbayne goon hit him with a most frightful hex and Kieran fell. He looked so deathly pale I think he might be dead,” she wailed, shivering in her shock.
“He’s not dead,” Anya soothed. If anyone had died on these grounds she would know. Death hadn’t revisited this place—yet.
And Anya had to take quick action to make sure it didn’t make a return visit anytime soon.
Anya looked angrily at the open door. She could still hear the furious raging. When she singled her hearing to one voice in particular, her heart skipped a beat. She heard the unmistakable rage in Damien’s voice.
He couldn’t possibly think he could take them all on but by the sound of it, he feared the fires from the burning effigies would spread to the house and the other homes built on his expansive estate.
Anya needed to intervene now before those bastards caused another living nightmare like the one Ebony had been consumed by.
“Impressive bit of witchcraft you just displayed there, sister.” Her body jerked at the sound of Oliver’s voice.
She’d put him to the back of her mind, hoping he would just evaporate. Apparently, luck was not on her side tonight.
“Tell your father to take his daft witted clowns and go home,” she said, steel in her voice.
She would not tolerate this any longer. The madness had to end and if she had to kill Raymond White in order to do it, she would not hesitate. Her mother taught her that killing was the last option—if she could avert it she would try—but if he forced her hand…
“I am afraid he will no longer listen to me. He thinks I’ve turned against him,” Oliver said softly.
“Have you?” She turned to confront him.
“I have,” he replied, meeting her gaze and holding it. Either he could look into her eyes and tell her an all-out lie—or he was speaking the truth. Could she risk not putting her faith in him? “I am on your side, sister. You don’t have to worry about me ever betraying you and siding with my bastard of a father.”
“Come with me, Oliver, and stay behind me,” she muttered. “If you are being forthright with me I don’t need you getting in my way—or getting caught in the crossfire.”
In hindsight, she should have kept the amulet but then she was learning that the charmed life her mother planned for her was slipping off the rails at the moment.
“Take yourself to the kitchen, Melanie, and wait there with the other servants until I return with my husband.”
Wild-eyed, the maid looked up at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying, her nose was red, she looked like she’d been to hell and back—and if she’d come into contact with the Bloodbaynes, she had.
“They have an awesome power, mistress. I don’t think you should go out into the path of their hellfire, please stay here and wait until the authorities arrive…they shouldn’t be much longer.”
“Don’t worry about me, I like playing with fire.” She winked at the maid, stood up regally and walked out the door, grimly determined to meet her fate.
* * * * *
Damien wanted to smash the head of every man in the gathered posse. The problem was, they were all part of his grandfather’s coven and he’d recently reached out to them to procure the drug he’d needed to incapacitate Anya. He never should have walked that road and now he was paying for it dearly.
“I will not say it again, Raymond, get off my lands and for the love of Vanguard, extinguish the fires. They are scaring my workers!” He stood next to his groundskeeper who was unconscious on the ground. The man who had punched his maid in the face now lay in a bloody heap on the ground not far from Raymond.
Raymond’s gaze moved from Damien to rest on something directly behind him. His eyes widened in terror, and the arrogant sneer that had been on his face vanished completely. “No, it’s not possible…she can’t have risen from the ashes!”
Damien whirled about and the sight that instilled such fear in Raymond’s eyes and the breathtaking vision made fear rush through him as well but his was a different kind of trepidation.
She was supposed to stay in the house…she never listened to him!
“Raymond White, you shall pay for your crimes against the innocent women and children of Vanguard Prime!” Anya said in her commanding voice.
“Ebony Ross,” Raymond whispered, blanching visibly under the stress of believing he was seeing a ghost.
Raymond backed up a few paces. Anya had scared him witless! “Burn her!” Raymond ordered.
Those warlocks talented enough to conjure fire did as they were commanded and shot out bursts of flames in her direction.
“No!” Damien screamed, releasing a concussive blast with his magic that rendered everyone around him unconscious.
The fire would consume her soon, he only hoped that any witness would not see what happened when the fireball engulfed her body—her most unusual gift wasn’t something he wanted everyone to know about. It was better kept a secret.
The Magical Authority of Vanguard would be here shortly, as his butler had called for them as soon as they’d starting burning witch effigies on the grounds. After his father forsook his birthright and married a Forsythe, a new style of government on Vanguard was introduced and with it a policing force of warlocks and witches straight from Earth.
This police force had no bias when it came to any of the magical families on Vanguard and only sought to protect the peace and the individuals who could be harmed by the extreme use of black magic.
The blaze consumed her and lit her in a most glorious light. Had they been actually burning her, he would have been distraught beyond reasoning but as it were they hardly tickled her… In fact, he didn’t even know if she felt the inferno licking her skin or not.
For the first time, he noticed Oliver White standing a short distance behind where Anya levitated and by the looks of things, he wore the Ross Amulet.
What the hell was going on?
“Damien, you sick son of a bitch, aren’t you going to help her?” Oliver called out, anger lacing his voice.
“I don’t need his help,” Anya shouted.
She flung her arms out wide and let out a triumphant scream as the fire went out. Smoke billowed through the clearing as she used her magic to put out the burning effigies.
Her energy spent, she slumped to the ground.
“What the fuck was that?” Ol
iver demanded.
With a weak smile, Anya stared up at Damien.
“Don’t tell him. I’ll hit him with a jinx and we’ll erase his memory, my love,” Damien said, only seeking to protect Anya.
“Steady on there, Forsythe. I’m not about to let you do anything to me. I think you’d find I’m a fair bit stronger now that I wear this,” Oliver said, cupping his hand around the amulet.
Damien narrowed his gaze at him. “I’d still fight you if I had to,” he growled fiercely.
“Damien, don’t,” Anya pleaded. “It is fine, he should know… He had his chance to betray us and he didn’t. You just saw my rare gift—rare ability for a witch, that is—and I was blessed by it because of what my grandmother did. She sacrificed herself for me and my mother when she could have kept fighting—had she not cared what fate befell her daughter. She was a mother. She had to think of Angelica first, and she did.”
“It doesn’t sound like our mother fared so well.”
“She survived,” Anya muttered, pain filling her eyes. “I don’t think it was what Ebony envisioned for her, but she eventually found her happily-ever-after. When our grandmother sacrificed herself she gave my mother and me one gift that has and will continue to serve us well—we are immune to fire.”
Damien ran his hands over her bare arms to find them cool to the touch and gathered her hands into his own. “I never quite believe it until I see and feel it,” he murmured, kissing her passionately on the lips.
“You are an abomination!” Raymond White screamed, rising from the unconscious state that Damien had thrown him into. “You will be cleansed,” he shrieked, raising his arms to the heavens.
The bastard was attempting to conjure lightning so he could kill Anya.
Damien raised his hand and did something he’d never attempted since he first discovered his ability to manipulate blood…he used his blood magic on Raymond. He did it at the same time Oliver used his magic to redirect the lightning bolt toward Raymond.
Anya did something none of them expected. Black charcoal smoke billowed around them.
“There will be no more killing,” Anya proclaimed. She’d somehow blocked their magic from affecting Raymond.
“We couldn’t let him hurt you, we had to do something,” Damien murmured, pulling her up so she stood leaning against him. As the smoke cleared, Damien set his eyes on what Anya had done.
“Well, that was one way to shrink him down to size,” he muttered.
On the grass before them sat the living doll of Raymond, still hurling vile obscenities at them all.
The Magical Authority of Vanguard chose that moment to arrive in their flying cars, sirens wailing. The police vehicles settled to the ground and the lead inspector climbed out.
They’d brought healers with them and a pair moved to attend to Kildare. They put him on a stretcher and carried him away to their waiting ambulance.
Fortunately for them, the lead investigator at a crime scene always possessed the gift of hindsight. Looking around at the scene, the investigator did an incantation so she could replay the recent events and cast her judgment.
Damien knew she wouldn’t be hauling their asses off as the evidence would speak for itself. He just hoped she would not see what Anya had done or if she did she would be wise enough to keep it to herself.
Amazement briefly crossed her face and was quickly replaced by the severe look befitting her official position.
“We are sorry for the inconvenience this illegal assembly of the Bloodbayne Coven caused for you. The members involved will be tried for their crimes. Good morning to you, Lord Forsythe.” She bowed her head to him in respect. “Let’s get these wayward warlocks into the paddy wagon, girls and boys. Does anyone have a shoebox for Master White? Be quick about it, let’s leave Lord Forsythe and his family in peace.”
Early morning sunlight broke across the landscape, coloring it in hues of pink and purple.
“It’s finally over,” Anya murmured.
“And we are back right where we belong—together,” Damien murmured, holding her close.
“Well, I’m off now, I’ll see the two of you around, I’m sure,” Oliver said, stepping into the early morning sunlight.
Impulsively, Anya threw herself into his arms, and the connection caused the amulet’s power to blast out light around them. She jumped back.
“I guess that’s what happens when two Rosses come in contact with the amulet,” she laughed. “I’m sorry about your father,” she said.
“I’m not,” Oliver declared. “He was always a cruel man who committed many heinous crimes in his day. He got what was coming to him. I imagine they might ask you for the spell to turn him back but I hope they leave him like that for a couple of years. I can say from my own experience that it wasn’t fun being in my own personal house of wax.”
“Why don’t you stay?” Anya asked.
“No,” Oliver muttered. “I want to explore the stars and see if I can locate our mother. Are you sure you want to remain here on Vanguard?”
She glanced over at Damien. “I go where Damien goes. In fact, we’ll be returning to Earth within a few months.”
“I look forward to it,” Damien said. “I can do my business anywhere and Earth is as good a place as any. I love you, Anya, and I will go to whatever means are necessary to make you happy.”
“Do you really mean it?” Anya asked, walking back over to him. She placed her hand over his heart, and he pulled her close.
“Yes. As long as I have you, my love, I’m always home…it doesn’t matter what planet we’re on, if you’re with me—I’m happy. You are my sweet Anya. You are my lucky charm.”
“Now why was that woman calling you Lord Forsythe?” she asked.
“Didn’t I tell you? I inherited a Scottish title from my mother—officially, I’m not really Lord Forsythe. I’m known as the Earl of Fraserburgh, so technically I’m Lord Fraserburgh and you are Lady Fraserburgh.”
“I guess I’ll always be learning new things about you,” she mused.
“Our lives will never be boring.”
He kissed her tenderly and she wound her arms around his neck so he could pull her off the ground.
“Why don’t we all go back into Silver Gables and have some breakfast…and after that Oliver can get on his quest to find his way in life—and you and I can continue where we left off last night.”
“That sounds heavenly,” she murmured dreamily, kissing him again.
“I love you, my wanton witch,” he proclaimed.
“And I love you, my wicked charming warlock. When we return to Earth, I’m going to have to show you my collection of wax dolls. If you’re lucky, I might even decide to return some of them to their native forms.”
“Anya,” Damien laughed, his bright eyes twinkling with mirth. “You are incorrigible.”
“And you love me for it.” Anya stared lovingly into his beautiful blue eyes. She agreed wholeheartedly with him, as long as they were together they would always be home, and she could face any trial or tribulation that came her way. Her heart and her soul were finally healed.
“Thank you, Ebony—thank you, grandmother,” she whispered as they walked back through the morning mist to Silver Gables.
Ebony stood watching them amble slowly hand in hand back to the majestic house.
“You’re welcome, dearest child.”
Her heart was finally whole once again—the Ross legacy was restored, and her beloved Anya had embraced her destiny. She had accepted the love she deserved. Once her grandchildren closed the door behind them, she turned and levitated herself toward the light—she was going home.
At long last, she had found peace.
The End
About Marly Mathews
Marly resides in Ontario, Canada, with her family and their two Yorkshire Terriers, Shylah and Brynna. She invites you to travel with her to the many worlds of her own creation.
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Warlock’s Charm
ISBN 9781419991189
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Warlock’s Charm Copyright © 2014 Marly Mathews
Cover design by Allyse Leodra
Cover photography by Shutterstock
Electronic book publication December 2014
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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