To Wrangle A Witch (Southern Sanctuary Book 3)

by Jane Cousins

  “Numbers… it all comes down to projected profits. A corporate giant will sign anything, commit to anything if they think there’s a buck in it. A year… ten years down the track, if they try to back out or change tacks… kabam, lawsuit city. And you should see the penalty fines I build into these contracts. No one does the math, they’re too busy patting themselves on the back thinking I’ve gone lenient on them in other areas.”

  “And the trap springs shut.” Serena raised her glass in acknowledgment. “I would offer to help clean up...”

  “I’ve got it.” Locke was up out of his chair before she could finish speaking. With swift economical movements he had the dirty dishes stowed, the place settings cleared and the kitchen counters gleaming.

  “That’s almost magic in itself.” Serena couldn’t help but comment slightly bemused at his efficiency. Standing up, she walked over to lean against the kitchen bench.

  “No good can come of mess.’ Locke straightened his tie absently. “Night cap?”

  Serena looked over her shoulder. The glass wall was pushed back and the humid night air drifted over her like a balm. The sound of dripping water could still be heard but the rain had stopped.

  “I...” She looked back at Locke.

  “Go.” He waved a hand.

  “But…”

  Locke huffed an amused laughed. “Just go.”

  He watched as she raced outside, bare feet mud splattered after only two steps. His intention was to pour himself a brandy and head back to his office and get some more work done. Instead he found himself standing at the open glass doors of the living room, brandy in hand, watching Serena dance through the mud. The garden dark and glossy around her, clinging raindrops glittering like fallen stars.

  She kept her dress on, but after only a few minutes of brushing up against wet foliage it was clinging to her like a second skin. His gut tightened at the sight. What would it be like to call her over, take her in his arms, run his fingers through that glorious mane of hair, and peel that dress off her?

  Clenching his jaw he pushed those thoughts away. Serena was his guest, she was alone, vulnerable emotionally and still recovering her strength after months in hell. He’d have to be a complete asshole to take advantage of her right now.

  Besides she’d be leaving soon, complicating the situation with sex would just be insane. And it wasn’t like she knew the score like his usual hook ups; the glossy professional women that he dated and bedded, who enjoyed his company, the five star restaurants, and the expensive parting gift he gave them when their brief fling came to its inevitable conclusion, before either party could become too attached.

  On the other hand Serena was quite literally a rolling stone. Magician’s assistant on the high seas one moment, reality TV - barely there shorts wearing - starlet the next. Restless by nature, subjected to the whims and pull of the tides and the winds. So a brief, hot - and it would be, he knew it down to his very bones - fling with him would be just the type of thing she might very well be up for.

  Goddess Valhalla, check your libido for pity sake man. Remember… guest in his home, witch, woman who likes to roll around in dirt, all things that should be carefully considered before making any rash moves. Of course trying to be rational and analytical was asking a bit much as he stood there visually feasting on the sight of Serena dancing under the moonlight. His cock was all for tossing good sense and noble intentions out the door, his internal truth detector though was dinging a loud insistent alarm bell.

  Instinctively he knew that if he took that step, wrangled with a wanton wicked witch then Serena’s impact on his life wouldn’t just stop at the jungle now residing in his formerly spartan courtyard. And Goddess damn it, above all else he loathed and hated change. That’s why schedules and timetables were invented. That’s why he lived his life by them. That’s why he dated women who worshipped them as well. Just watching Serena twirl, dip and sway like a frenzied garden sprite amongst the ferns he could tell she’d never take a schedule seriously or rigorously commit to a timetable. Of course even acknowledging all that his body still craved the white gold haired nymph.

  Perhaps he was overthinking, over analysing the situation, he had a tendency to do that. Perhaps he should just simply kiss the girl. Of course every particle of his being whole heartedly approved of that plan. Which instantly made him wary… just what kind of magic did an Earth Witch wield?

  With their tendency to run around skyclad perhaps luring in men was part of the deal. Like black widow spiders. Okay now he was just being fanciful, Serena with her wide blue-purple eyes, husky laugh and teasing smile was not a black widow spider. But still, this attraction he felt for her, it wasn’t natural, was it? For Goddess sake he wasn’t even that upset about his courtyard, of course her dancing naked in it had helped lessen the blow. See! That was what he was talking about, she had to be using magic on him… but if that were the case, why wasn’t his internal lie detector twitching?

  * * *

  Serena flung her head back, her arms wide as if to embrace the night sky, watching the grey rain clouds rapidly disperse. Moonlight flooded through where it could, gaining a bigger foothold as the clouds melted away on the night breeze.

  Her legs and feet itched where mud and grass began to dry against her skin, but it was a good kind of itch. The earth beneath her was sluggish but happy as it sucked in the last of the available moisture. Moving through some ferns she let her fingertips trail across the tips of their delicate fronds, brushing aside a salvia bush, its dark purple flowers gifting her bare legs with a series of small wet kisses, making her laugh. The night rhythms of the garden soothed her soul, eliminating all remnants of her earlier funk.

  Locke must think her the moodiest of creatures. She wondered if he’d consider adding some indoor plants, they’d help stave off the blues in the future. Huh? What future idiot? This wasn’t her home remember? She didn’t do attachments to places or people. From the time she’d hit puberty she’d known that her future lay outside of her mother’s small farm. The winds called to her, the tides beckoned, as she grew older some nights she literally ached to be on the move. So she’d left, travelled, seen the world and loved every moment of it. Still she had to admit it had been kind of a relief to lay down shallow roots in Atlanta for a while with Maat’s warriors. She loved those guys but she knew in her heart that she wouldn’t settle there forever... it just didn’t feel right.

  Huh, since when had she been actively looking for a place to settle down? No, that was ridiculous; she was too much like her father. Though come to think of it, he’d transitioned into his retirement years at the farm with remarkable ease, she’d never seen him more relaxed or happy. No, what was she thinking? She wasn’t the settle down type, and even if she was, she certainly wouldn’t be settling down here, yet why did the idea of leaving the Sanctuary make her feel so hollow inside?

  Flinging her arms wider still Serena raised her face to the full beauty of the moon. She had to trust that the Earth had a plan for her, the currents and tides would take her where ever she needed to go, they always had in the past.

  Opening her eyes she scanned the night, something on the edge of her consciousness was trying to get her attention. Something was wrong, so faint she could barely hear it… there… the moss on the roof was screaming a barely audible warning. Oh Earth and all the Stars. Even as Locke called her name in warning she saw the dark figure scuttle across the roof line and launch itself in her direction. Too late to run, too late to do anything but meet the threat of the blood sucking vampire head on.

  Chapter Twelve

  Locke’s mobile had just begun to ring demanding his attention when a wave of what could only be described as wrongness swept through him. His home, his fortress had been invaded. Even as he called out a warning to Serena he knew it was too late. Watching in horror as a dark shadow with a gaunt pale face soared from the roof like a damn flying squirrel, heading directly for where she stood. Fuck, not stopping to think he was already in
motion.

  The sucker hit Serena hard but she didn’t go down, instead crying out as its razor sharp talons sank into her upper arms. Still twenty feet away Locke watched as the ground beneath the sucker’s feet turned into quicksand, pulling him down into the wet earth up to his knees. Surprised the sucker released Serena, who scrabbled away but not quickly enough to stop the parasite from grabbing one of her bare ankles, sending her slamming to the ground as it slowly began to drag her back through the muck towards it.

  All those years of training with his father came back in an instant. Locke didn’t stop to think, just converted the momentum of his run into the hardest kick possible, snapping the sucker’s head back as his shoe connected with its nose, sending its upper body slamming back and away from Serena. The sucker shrieked in pain, nose broken, black blood streaming down its white face.

  Locke spun on a tight pivot to focus on Serena. Ignoring the sloughs of mud clinging to her and the blood seeping from multiple puncture wounds on her arms and leg he reached down and yanked her to her feet unceremoniously. Time for clean-up and comfort later.

  “We need to get inside.” He pushed her back towards the house.

  “But…”

  “Inside!” He all but roared the word, following it up with a none too gentle shove. Noting out the corner of his eye the sucker trapped in the mud was now desperately trying to claw his way free of the earth’s hold. If there’d been a shovel, any sort of weapon available, he would have stayed to finish the parasite off. The smarter option though was the safety of the house, and putting a call in to the Chippendale cavalry.

  His leather shoes provided little traction as he moved down the same path Serena had run. He was so busy concentrating on staying upright that he didn’t see the second bloodsucker until its flying body temporarily blocked the moonlight. He tried to shift trajectory but the ground was too slippery. Goddess this was gonna hurt.

  Oooff… and it did, just not the way he’d imagined as a lean muscular body flew out of the shadows, his cousin Declan – Hadleigh’s enforcer apprentice – had arrived to join the fight, roughly shouldering Locke out of the way, sending him flying to land on the wet grass.

  The second sucker was spitting out unintelligible words as he fought with Declan, probably the vampire version of trash talk. The fight should have been one sided, Declan’s wickedly edged blade versus sharp nails and teeth but the sucker appeared more than capable of holding his own. Probably because of the metal bands it had strapped along each forearm. Whatever they were made of they were capable of blocking the sword’s edge, allowing the sucker precious opportunities to swipe at Declan’s upper body and face with those dagger like claws.

  Of course with the arrival of the second sucker Locke had stupidly forgotten about Noseless, the first sucker, whose nose he’d jettisoned into oblivion. That was right up until the moment it plunged its nails into his lower legs, crab crawling its way up his body, stopping only when it loomed directly over him, nails deep in his gut, hot fetid breath fanning his face, sluggish drops of blood still leaking from the broken hole where its nose used to be splattering down onto his chest.

  Locke’s arms trembled as he attempted to hold the fucker off, Goddess these things were freaky strong. Locke tried to buck it off. That just sent its nails deeper into his gut. Still that thing’s gaping maw of needle sharp teeth inched closer and closer to his throat. So much for dying in his Italian villa when he was one hundred and sixty, his inconsolable twenty- four year old former playboy bunny girlfriend at this bedside.

  Except Noseless couldn’t chew down on his new toy. Thanks to a few broken teeth from the earlier face kick and the additional layers of his tie and shirt collar Noseless was shit out of luck on draining him dry.

  Of course that didn’t mean the sucker didn’t have a copious number of other ways to off him in its repertoire, Locke arching up in agony as Noseless began dragging one of his claws up through Locke’s body. Those sharp nails cutting through his flesh and muscle like five knives. Goddess, were those nails in deep enough to puncture his heart?

  It felt like the damn things were scraping against his spine, he didn’t doubt if Noseless got past his gut he’d been in a world of trouble. He’d never hear the end of it from his father for a start, and his grandfather would probably chase him into Valhalla itself just so he could say ‘I told you so’.

  Letting go of Noseless completely he started pounding on the sucker’s face with his fists. From the hissing and resulting blood bubbles rising from the black gaping hole in the middle of his face Noseless didn’t appreciate Locke’s new strategy, but nor did he seem to feel compelled to let up on the slicing and dicing. Goddess Locke only had one option open to him, and it was going to hurt more than his flesh being ripped to shreds but here goes… no time for pride. “Dec… Declan. A little help here.”

  If he’d had a say he would have preferred Declan slice Noseless in two, but slamming into him with a body tackle hard enough to send Noseless sprawling a few feet away was good enough. Despite a strong personal need to just lie still until the pain faded Locke found himself on his feet behind Declan.

  Goddess everything hurt, he rested a light hand on Dec’s shoulder, not enough to distract him but just for a little support as he yanked down his rucked up waistcoat. If he was lucky it would help keep his guts where they needed to be for just a little bit longer.

  “I really thought you had that thing.” Declan noted, his attention on both suckers now as they crouched before them, pale, slicked back blonde hair, mouths gaping open revealing two rows of wicked sharp teeth, their eyes glittering iridescent by the light of the moon.

  Noseless was in better shape than his black clad assassin pal, Declan had managed to amputate the second sucker’s left arm just above the elbow. Not that it seemed all that worried by the missing limb, just perhaps a little off balance.

  Locke started to shuffle backwards, pulling Declan with him slowly. “We need to get inside.” Locke growled out low, unsure if the suckers could understand him.

  “You go, I’ll hold them off.” Declan volunteered readily.

  Damn enforcers, so fucking heroic. But Locke had seen the pain etched across Declan’s face and his torn t-shirt soaked with blood. His cousin was hurt, how badly he didn’t know. If - and it was a big if - he was able to make it inside under his own steam how could he live with himself leaving Declan out here to face two blood suckers by himself? He might not be a trained warrior but he still had their blood in his veins. Never stop fighting until the last breath. Never leave a fellow warrior behind.

  Suddenly the two suckers like dogs scenting new prey shifted their attention left; focusing on something over Locke’s left shoulder. Shit not something… someone. Serena! She stood under a shaft of moonlight, her hair blazing almost white, her skin a soft velvety sheen and her eyes glowing purple fire. Goddess darn it, didn’t anyone know what the word ‘inside’ meant anymore?

  “Serena! Get back inside.”

  “Goddess that’s cool.” Declan muttered in awe as Armless suddenly sank into the earth up to his hips. Noseless wasn’t falling for that trick again, already leaping high, right into the waiting arms of the nearest bougainvillea climber, its rambling vines entwining around Noseless’s struggling form, sinking its sharp thorns into pale flesh where it could.

  “Inside. Now!” Locke thumped Declan on the back to get his attention.

  “Right.” Declan turned from the captivating sight of the trapped vampires, his eyes flicking quickly to Locke’s stomach, flinching ever so slightly. “Shit Locke, look at you. Come on.” He placed a sturdy shoulder under Locke’s arm flashing him a dimpled grin. “I’ve got you.” Declan laughed heartily. “And the rookie pulls the big bad lawyer’s butt out of the fire… again.”

  Locke struggled to breathe through the pain. “Don’t worry about me. Get Serena.”

  Declan sheathed his sword in the scabbard he had strapped to his back. “Got it covered,” as he effortlessly fir
e-lifted Serena up onto his left shoulder as they shuffled past her. She made a protesting grunt but nothing else, her concentration on her magic and keeping the suckers trapped in their dirt and plant prisons. Declan laughed again. “Goddess I’m good.”

  “Shut up and hurry will you.” Locke hissed between gritted teeth.

  “You know the Council will be sending you an evaluation form following up on this incident right?”

  “Declan this is not the time to be asking me how I’ll be filling out your performance… appraisal form.”

  Declan grunted slightly as they hit a slippery spot and he took on more of Locke’s weight.

  “Earth he’s getting loose Locke… I can’t hold him.” Serena’s strained words seemed to light the fire under Declan that Locke had been demanding.

  By the time they hit the sandstone of the veranda they’d managed a fast shuffle. As they stepped into the living room it was hard to know whether Declan’s foot caught or whether Serena’s weight shifted. Either way the two of them went sprawling to the polished floorboards, leaving Locke the only one standing to face the threat.

  Noseless had fought his way free of the bougainvillea and was coming at him like a locomotive. Goddess darn parasite didn’t know when to give up. Locke braced his feet, managing to catch both of Noseless’s wrists, those talons only inches away from his eyes. Trapped for the moment, Noseless snapped his jaws in the same direction, perhaps thinking a nose for a nose. Locke jerked him forward, giving Noseless a hard shake to get his attention.

  “Vampires… are… not allowed over the threshold… without an invitation.” The words resounded out there for a split second, gathering momentum from every scared child, comic book geek and Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan in the world, before snapping into reality for the Southern Sanctuary.

  Noseless had one split hundredth of a second to compute what had gone wrong before his whole body exploded in a cloud of dust.