Witch Fury

by Bast, Anya

  “Stefan.” He sat down in his chair and propped his expensively clad feet onto the shiny surface of his desk.

  “Stefan. So you can see why trust may not be on the menu.”

  He spread his hands, cigar smoking from between the fingers of one hand. “And yet you are here, my petal. You have come all the way from Chicago, in fact, to seek an audience with me.” His expression darkened. “After having spent three weeks with Thomas Monahan and his Coven.” He sneered the word Coven.

  “I did spend three weeks at the Coven, you’re right. I spent three weeks there and decided they aren’t for me.”

  Stefan smiled and took a puff. “Cigar?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Tell me more, my petal. Tell me about the man you have arrived here with.”

  “James Anwar. He’s an earth witch I met at the Coven. We came to the same conclusions about the place at around the same time.” She leaned forward. “I don’t want to talk about James, I want to talk about the daaeman who is—”

  “Is he your lover?”

  She bristled. “James? Why should that matter?”

  Stefan wore a small, secret smile that she didn’t like at all. He leaned forward and rested the cigar on the edge of an ashtray, letting it smoke. “It matters to the demon who hunts you.”

  The saliva on her tongue dried instantly and her body went stiff. Demon and hunts you didn’t go well in the same sentence.

  “He would not take kindly to you sleeping with any aeamon. ”

  “Why?” Her voice came out pinched. “What are you talking about?”

  Stefan reclined in his chair, placing his hands behind his head, looking fat and happy as a cat who’d just consumed a juicy mouse. “Come back to us and I can provide you a measure of protection against him, my petal. Having you roam free is . . . upsetting him.”

  Sarafina took a couple deep, measured breaths and willed her imminent panic attack away. “How did he even get Earthside?”

  “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

  “Are there more? More daaeman than Bai?”

  Stefan spread his hands. “Isn’t Bai enough? Really, Sarafina, I’m not the man most likely to spill Duskoff secrets into the lap of someone who has been contaminated by the heroic leader of the Coven and all his do-gooder minions.”

  “I want no part of them.” She studied her hands clasped in her lap and channeled Meryl Streep. “You kidnapped me, but so did they. They assumed I was a warlock because you were meeting with me personally. They yanked me from that house with the use of an earth witch so brutal he dragged me through a cornfield.”

  “Mmmm, yes, Theodosius Winters. He’s quite the cold bastard, that sorcière. Like they all are. He has a particularly large grudge against the Duskoff, however. Some of the warlocks saw him dragging you from the house that day.”

  Oh, good. That was very good, indeed.

  She nodded. “He locked me in Gribben and abused me until it was verified I was an abductee and not a member of the Duskoff.”

  Stefan nodded sympathically. “I know too well how vicious they can be. I have experienced Gribben firsthand. It’s the only thing in this world I have encountered that has the power to break me.” He leaned forward. “To lose your magick that way, it’s hellish, is it not? So painful. I would rather die than go through that again.”

  “Even only having recently discovered my magick, it was . . . awful.” She was bluffing big-time here, since she’d never once stepped foot in Gribben. Apparently, the place had had quite an effect on Stefan, however.

  Stefan’s cleanly shaven jaw locked and a muscle twitched near his eye. “I would like to give them a taste of the torture they put those prisoners through, wouldn’t you?”

  She looked up, holding his gaze steadily. “I’ve fantasized about it.”

  His gaze warmed. “A woman after my own heart.”

  “When they finally let me go, Theodosius Winters stalked me, waited outside my apartment to see what I would do, if I would run back to the Duskoff or not. He was there when Bai showed up and for that I’m glad, but afterward, after I returned to the Coven to seek refuge, that’s when the pressure to join them began. They wouldn’t let me leave. I was a captive once again.”

  “So you finally broke out and traveled here to see me.”

  “With James’s help, yes.”

  “And now you want back into the Duskoff.”

  She tried her best to look conflicted for a moment, then rose and paced the room. “I’m not sure yet. I’m so confused. Both organizations have done me wrong.”

  “I can understand why you might see it that way, but truly, we had no choice but to do as we did. Anything less would have sent you running for the hills.”

  She whirled and stared at him. “You kidnapped me.”

  He inclined his head. “We did, and I’m sorry for that.”

  Frowning at him, she shook her head and continued pacing. “It took me a while to see it, but I think I get the difference between the Coven and the Duskoff now.”

  “Tell me, my petal.”

  She stopped in the middle of the room and looked at him. “The Coven is all about harm ye none and live and let live.

  They believe in responsibility and restraint.” She allowed a hint of shine into her eyes. “But witches are special! We have power like no human has! The Coven ignores that superiority. They refuse to use it to their advantage. The Duskoff can and do. So it’s the Duskoff, not the Coven, that can help me make the most of myself.”

  Stefan studied her for a long moment and then smiled. “I’m glad you’ve seen the light. The Coven is for the weak. The Duskoff is for the strong.” He paused, his smile fading. “But have you forgiven the way I indoctrinated you? Have you decided to join us?”

  “The daaeman, Bai. You need to tell me more. Why is he so interested in me?”

  “Bai saw you long before I ever did, my petal. He’s the one who brought you to my attention, in fact. I have been trying my best to keep him from you. I am the only one who can do that. If you were closer to me, it would be easier.”

  “What does he want me for?”

  “I fear I cannot answer that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I choose not to. At least not yet. Prove to me you have rinsed off the taint that is Thomas Monahan, prove to me you truly have rejected the Coven, and I will give you more information.”

  “How do you propose I do that?”

  “Stay in New York. I will find you an apartment. Come to work here at Duskoff International. I will give you an excellent salary, more money than your Bowling Green-born self could possibly imagine. You will have the best of everything if you join us.”

  If only you agree to bleed for me. The words went unspoken, but she knew that’s what he meant.

  “Why do you want me so badly?”

  “You are very strong, my petal, stronger than you imagine. I am like any other executive of any other company; I search out the best and brightest for my staff.”

  “And Bai? What of him?”

  “If you stay close to me, I can control him. Together we will work on that problem.”

  She bit her lower lip. “I haven’t decided what I’ll do yet.”

  Stefan said nothing for a long moment. “And Mr. Anwar? What will he do?”

  “He is also exploring his options.”

  He picked up his cigar once again and leaned back in his chair. “I’m disinclined to take him. I know nothing about him, and he requires a thorough background check.”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you fucking him?” Stefan took a puff and smoke curled around his face.

  Sarafina didn’t answer.

  “If you are, stop. You don’t want to rile the Atrika any more than you already have.”

  “I will live my life as I choose.”

  “Do you have a self-destructive streak?”

  Her jaw locked for a moment before answering. “I am no one’s slave. Not your
s. Not Bai’s.”

  He laughed. “Yes, you are a fire witch. There is no doubt.” Stefan leaned forward. “My petal, it is necessary that you choose a side and choose it soon. We are in a war and all those who stand in the middle risk obliteration.”

  “DON’T MAKE ME LOSE MY TEMPER, SARAFINA. TRUST me, you won’t like it.” Theo paced across the hotel room, fear making every single nerve in his body sing to life.

  Fear for Sarafina.

  The trip to Duskoff International had gone well as far as things went. No daaeman had popped up to kill them. Stefan seemed unaware of the ruse, thanks to Sarafina’s plausible excuse for having come.

  They had gotten a bit of information they hadn’t known before—Bai was personally interested in Sarafina, and it didn’t sound like he just wanted to kill her out of hand. They also knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Duskoff were in league with Bai. However, there were a lot of whys and hows still hanging in the air.

  Why did Bai want Sarafina?

  Why had the Duskoff allied with Bai?

  How had they pulled him through and were there others?

  And here they were sitting on a great opportunity to find out. All they had to do was risk Sarafina’s life.

  “Dissolve that charm, Theo. It’s unnerving not to see the real you.”

  There was no reason to keep it. The Duskoff viewed him as too great a risk. He’d anticipated getting no farther than the door. Sarafina could go much farther than that if she played along, but she’d have to do it on her own.

  Which was why Theo was so pissed.

  Drawing a bit of power that made his scalp and tats tingle, he dissolved the glamour. Then he whirled and stalked toward her. “You’re not doing it.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do, Theo. I’m getting really sick of you trying.”

  She was pissed, too. He glimpsed fire dancing between her fingers, running up and down her arms in tiny fiery rivers of rage.

  He turned away from her and walked to the other end of the posh hotel room. “If I have to lock you in the room, I’ll keep you from going back there tomorrow morning.”

  “You know you can’t do that. I’ll just burn my way out.”

  Theo turned to face her. “This was not the plan. We’re not prepared for this and we don’t have backup.”

  “What about Darren and his witches? They’re not far. They’re, what? Four hours away by car.”

  His jaw clenched. “You’d still be going in alone.”

  “But there’d be backup if I ran into trouble.”

  He stared down at her, running out of excuses to stop her. The protectiveness he felt toward Sarafina was like nothing he’d experienced before—or at least like nothing he’d experienced since he’d been seventeen. That memory was what fueled his intense desire to keep Sarafina safe. The last thing he could bear was for history to repeat itself.

  And here they fucking were, right on the cusp.

  Why he’d developed such intense emotion for this particular woman, he couldn’t say. Maybe it was because he’d taken her from the Duskoff’s clutches, even if at the time he’d thought of her as the enemy.

  For whatever reason, the truth of the matter was that for the first time in his adult life, he’d decided that a woman meant something to him. He’d put an invisible, indelible mark on her—a claim. No other person could harm her without risking his wrath. She could not endanger herself without making him seriously insane.

  But she was a woman used to taking care of herself, making her own decisions. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t prevent her from doing this if she chose.

  And he disliked the name Darren coming from between her lovely lips. He disliked even more the interest that had been in Darren’s eyes when he’d looked at her back at the Coven.

  Was he jealous?

  The thought jarred him. Jealousy would mean he’d claimed Sarafina as his in more than just a protective way. It would mean that he’d claimed her in an emotional way. That couldn’t be. He couldn’t do it.

  Gods, having this woman placed under his guard was making him crazy. Just like it had made Jack McAllister and Adam Tyrell crazy. Damn it!

  He turned away from her. “You’re right, I can’t stop you from going back to Stefan. If you choose to do that, I’ll call Darren and make arrangements for him to come down with a small guard of witches.”

  Sarafina let out a long breath. “Thank you. Thanks for not making me fight you.”

  “Doesn’t mean I like this. Doesn’t mean I think it’s smart.”

  “It’s our best hope at the moment.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d rather have Thomas’s opinion on that score.” He fished his cell phone from the back of his jeans.

  It rang in his hand.

  Theo answered with a hostile, “Yeah,” knowing already who it would be. They had no warding around them right now, and Mira would’ve heard their conversation had she been tuned to it. She would’ve relayed it to Thomas.

  The conversation was short and tense. Theo snapped the phone closed and paced away from Sarafina, toward his section of their two-bedroom suite. He fought not to snarl the words as he threw the cell to the couch, “You have Thomas’s blessing.”

  SEVENTEEN

  HER MOTHER SLAMMED OPEN HER BEDROOM DOOR SO hard the knob stuck in the wall, making a hole.

  Sarafina jumped in surprise and gripped her doll close to her, as if it could protect her from the insane glint in her mother’s eyes. Her mom’s frizzy blond hair stood up all around her head as though she’d been electrified, and her body gave off a constant heat that Sarafina could feel even across the room. Her body always gave off that heat, like she was ready to boil.

  Today it was even more palpable. Perspiration beaded her mother’s forehead even though it wasn’t warm in the room, and her face was flushed as if she had a fever. Her flowered sundress clung to her damp skin.

  But heat wasn’t the only thing emanating from her mother today.

  Today the off-balance quality that her mother always displayed seemed more severe. Today Sarafina suspected something had sent her mother over the edge of the precipice she always balanced on.

  Today was a dangerous day.

  Sarafina’s body tensed. On the dangerous days she went to bed with bruises on her arms and legs, sometimes even odd burn marks from where her mother gripped her skin. Dangerous days were the ones when Sarafina knew to get out of the house fast and stay out.

  Her mother took another step toward her, eyeing her narrowly. “You have a wickedness inside you. You have fire in your soul. We have to purge you of the evil, my child, so you can go to God pure.”

  Purging at her mother’s hands meant pain.

  Sarafina noted her mother was moving closer to the bed, leaving the door open. Her gaze darted toward escape as she gripped her doll tight.

  “Just like me, Sarafina. Just like your grandmother. Like your father, too. We are all cursed with the hellfire of the devil.”

  Her mother lunged for her, but Sarafina dove off the side of the bed, leaving her beloved doll behind, and darted past her, feeling displaced air at the nape of her neck where her mother almost grabbed hold of her.

  “Sarafina!” her mother raged as Sarafina ran full bore through the living room and out the front door. “Come back here!”

  Sarafina ran across the front lawn and down the street, feeling the heat of her mother as she drew closer. Glancing back, she saw the glint of something long and sharp in the morning sunlight. Her mother had a weapon.

  Neighbors, out in their yards on such a fine day, stared. Too stunned, too complacent. Whatever the reason, no one did anything to help Sarafina as she ran screaming down the street.

  She darted between houses and ran through backyards, her short eight-year-old legs pumping as fast as she could make them.

  It wasn’t fast enough.

  She was no match for the long, adult legs chasing her and every step she took felt like a step backward. The farther she
ran, the closer her mother got—her heat and the flash of that pointy thing she held bearing down on Sarafina.

  Sarafina’s sandal caught the edge of a sandbox in her friend’s backyard and she went sprawling face-first into it. She scrambled forward, sending sand flying, and turned over just in time to see her mother looming over her.

  Sarafina threw her hands up, as if her tiny arms would be enough to ward off the weapon coming toward her and the wild glint in her mother’s eye.

  “I’m trying to save you, child,” her mother yelled. “Don’t you see?”

  “Momma, no!”

  Light erupted in a brilliant display. Her mother cried out.

  Sarafina scrambled back away from flame, stared for a moment at the sight before her.

  Then she screamed.

  “Shhh . . . it’s all right. Sarafina, wake up. Wake up.”

  Sarafina roused with a gasp to a warm, hard body against hers. “Alex?” But it couldn’t be Alex, she thought groggily. Alex was out of her life now.

  “No,” came a low, rumbling voice. “It’s not Alex. You were screaming in your sleep, Sarafina.”

  “Theo.” She blinked back tears, a remnant of her nightmare. She had that one so often. Over and over. Like her subconscious just didn’t want her to forget that day. Her conscious mind did, though. Oh, she wanted so much to banish that day into the blackness of nevermore.

  Why couldn’t she just let it go, all of it? That memory didn’t serve her and she wanted it gone. Anytime her mind brushed past that event when she was awake, she veered from it, refusing to remember.

  But when she was asleep, in her dreams, her subconscious played it over and over on a loop.

  “Oh, God, make it stop,” she whispered, melting against Theo’s chest. She couldn’t get enough air. Her throat was closing up. “Why can’t I make it stop?”

  He rubbed her back and held her close. “It’s okay, Sarafina. It’s over now. You’re awake. All over. Sometimes when a new witch starts training, stuff gets dredged up. The encounter with Bai probably didn’t help, either.”

  She shook her head. “The dreams have always been there.” She could barely get the words past her constricted throat. “Nothing I do makes them go away.” Her voice held a thread note of hysteria.