by Jane Cousins
Locke followed them out, weary to the bone and sore from his eyelids down to his toes. His mind whirling as he tried to process everything he’d learnt in the last few hours. But essentially it boiled down to a few simple facts, he’d lost a favourite pen, ruined another suit and when he got back to his place Serena would be long gone.
The team had survived the vampire attack, confirmed there was no ongoing threat against Serena by the vamp Queen and the Chippendales had a lead on Sek and Mot and a plan in place to make them think Serena was dead. So… yay team? Sort of a victory he supposed. Why then did he feel so ultimately hollow? Goddess, face the hard truth man… Serena was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
She should go. No, she should stay. Make sure Locke really was okay, say goodbye and formally thank him for his hospitality. For what felt like the hundredth time Serena got to her feet and bent over to pick up her small suitcase, she really should go. Urgh, she was driving herself nuts. And the courtyard garden was not helping, soft alluring beckoning whispers gently tugging at her senses.
Turning her head she glared outside. “I was tricked, provoked… it doesn’t count!” It so didn’t count. Maat had played her.
Earth, she was forgetting something wasn’t she? But what? When Locke and the others had chased off after the vampire Queen she’d immediately organised the remaining warriors into a clean-up detail… well, once they’d dusted the last two vampire lackeys.
With six of them working diligently it didn’t take long to restore some sort of semblance of order to the courtyard. Another couple of days for the grass and crushed foliage to heal and once the broken shower alcove was fixed you’d never know a smack down between Maat’s warriors and a kiss of vampire assassins had ever taken place out there. Earth, come on, what was she forgetting?
Serena glared down at her bare feet, well yes, besides her missing shoes, what was she forgetting? It wasn’t like she’d arrived with any worldly goods in the first place… oh jeez, that just goes to show how distracted she’d been by this whole mess of leaving. Stalking through the house she breezed into Locke’s bedroom, tamping down hard on all the hot sweaty memories that assailed her, she scooped up the african violet pot plant sitting on the side table.
She paused for a moment in shock. “Oh Sweetie… what have you done to yourself?”
She was in awe of the bounty of bright red flowers the african violet was now covered with. Red! The exact same colour as the red Locke had chosen to accent his bedroom with.
“Changing for a man?” She sighed. “I understand the motivation, I honestly do but it’s a hard truth all women eventually have to face, if he doesn’t love you exactly as you are… then it’s not really love. And trying to change to please him, that will just leave you unhappy.”
A velvety soft leaf reached over, caressing the back of her hand.
“We can’t stay, you know we can’t.” Turning she marched out the room hugging the pot plant to her side. Ignoring the soft weeping it was making that only she could hear. “Honestly.” She rolled her eyes. “I know you like him… I lo.. like him too, but we can’t stay. We agreed on temporary and besides there’s the new Mrs Locke Valhalla to consider… trust me, you do not want me leaving you to her not so tender ministrations.”
Once more she thought about leaving, she really should go. Locke was safe, Hadleigh had informed her of that fact just before she and the other warriors had raced off to chase down the electronically chipped vampire Queen. Seriously the vamp Queen’s name was Destiny? It was just so tramp-stamp wannabe exotic dancer.
Without conscious thought Serena found herself wandering towards the open glass doorway leading outside to the courtyard. Moon and the Stars, this pull the garden now had over her, how could she have been so stupid? She didn’t settle down. She was like her father, a traveller, a rolling stone. She didn’t get trapped in one place like her Grandmother and Mother and their gardens, she was a free Earth spirit. And yet even as she had that thought she had to resist hard the temptation to step outside, to answer the lure of the garden. “Shut up…” She hissed under her breath. “Maat tricked me into saying it… I am not staying, you know I can’t.”
She really should go. All she had to do was pick up her suitcase, walk to the linen closet door, place her hand on it and picture the place she wanted to be, just like Hadleigh had shown her. Yeah, she really should go, the thought flittering across her mind once more, even as she took a seat on the sofa to wait.
* * *
Locke staggered out of his linen closet smelling of smoke, a thin layer of soot and dirt over every inch of bare skin, his entire body aching. First from the uber smack-down battle with the vamps. Then from helping out at the hospital, he’d pitched in where he could, mostly moving patients, first to safety, then when the all clear was given helping to move everyone back inside. It had been an exhausted Nell who’d finally insisted upon him going home. Thanks to her and the other doctors on call everyone who had been injured by the mad bitch Queen’s tear through the hospital was on the mend, including Morty and Mal, the security guards.
Not bothering to turn on the lights in the house he walked through the dark rooms on leaden feet. Intending to head straight for his bedroom, strip and fall face first on his bed and sleep for a week. It wasn’t like there was anything else to do… she was gone. Except as he walked down the corridor he caught a whiff of Serena’s perfume, damn he was going to have to sanitize his entire house or that lingering smell would slowly, irrevocably drive him insane.
“Oh Earth, Locke!”
He blinked, then reached up to rub tired grit filled eyes. This was a very vivid hallucination. Serena was standing in the middle of his living room. He blinked hard again, but she remained. Okay not a hallucination. He should do something, shouldn’t he? Say something? He must look ridiculous just standing there, filthy from head to toe, dirt and ash encrusted into his skin, his suit ripped and ruined, dumb surprise written all over his face.
“Oh Locke.” She thumped the african violet pot plant down hard on a side table. “Sorry.” She glanced down guiltily before dashing to his side, to grip his arm, her face full of concern.
Yeah this is definitely the moment to pull something suave and meaningful out of the hat Valhalla. The woman you love is standing in front of you man, you have a second chance here. Say something, anything Valhalla, tell her you love her, beg her to stay. “Did you just apologise to a plant?”
“Of course.” Serena reached up to brush back his hair, wincing for him as ash, dirt and tiny flakes of broken glass drifted down to the stained, torn and mud encrusted shoulders of his jacket. “Plants have feelings too.” The poor man looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a weed whacker, despite that he still looked gorgeous to her eyes. She pushed the jacket off his shoulders, pulling it down over his arms and dropping it to the floor.
“Umm, what are you doing?” Locke looked down, confused for a moment.
She brushed aside his hands as she began to undo his tie. “Undressing you.” She glanced at him to test his reaction; he still looked kind of dazed. She supposed facing off against a vamp, chasing down a mad assassin Queen and ruining another suit may well have sent Locke into overload.
“Um… okay, carry on.” It was a good sign right? That she was undressing him? He bit back a moan as he flexed his arms to help her divest him of his shirt. Ouch, he’d forgotten about his bruises, blisters, torn muscles and aches and pains for just a moment.
“Sorry.” She manoeuvred him carefully out through the open glass doors, across the shaded veranda and backwards through the garden, unbuckling his belt as they went, sliding it carefully out of the loops. Under her feet the grass emitted a soft satisfied sigh as she stepped on it… she ignored it, all her focus on Locke.
Determinedly she nudged a stumbling, fatigued Locke past the stack of broken wood that had been the shower alcove before Dash had crashed into it. At their final destination she bought him to an abrupt halt, bending to
help him slip off his shoes and socks before straightening to face him, her pansy eyes glowing softly in the moonlight as her nimble fingers unbuttoned his trousers.
Locke couldn’t believe his luck. Serena was here. She was undressing him and it very much looked like he was about to get lucky. Which considering how sore he felt right now might well prove a challenge, but who was he to deny the wicked wanton witch her heartfelt desires. And it seemed she wanted him. On auto-pilot he kicked away his trousers.
“And the rest.” She throatily commanded, leaning towards him.
Oh Goddess. He followed her instructions, divesting himself of his boxers fast… wait, she was leaning past him to… Shit, he flinched as the lukewarm spray from the shower head sent a deluge down over his head. He spluttered and glared at her through the falling water.
“Whew.” She was standing several feet away from him, waving a hand in front of her face, a pleased smile on her gorgeous face. “There is no gentle way to tell someone they reek is there?”
He reeked? He! Locke Valhalla reeked! He didn’t even exercise unless it was in air-conditioned comfort and the Earth Witch, with a big emphasis on the word ‘earth’, was accusing him of being overly ripe?
Whew if that wasn’t the big clod of dirt accusing the - he took a deep breath as the first layers of encrusted gunk sloughed off his skin and almost gagged – oh Goddess he smelt like a smouldering dung heap. Abruptly he turned into the stream of water and raised his face, running his fingers through his crusty hair, oh Goddess. His foot nudged aside a stray bit of broken wood and underneath it he spied treasure, shampoo. Grabbing the bottle he dumped half the contents on his head and the other half over his chest and arms. Working his fingers deeply into his scalp he sighed. Oh, already he felt a hundred times better than he had when he’d arrived home. His brain had finally begun ticking over as one question zinged around his head like a perpetual bouncing ball. Why was Serena still here?
He could have stood under the shower for an hour or more but when the lukewarm waterfall began to turn icy cold he reluctantly turned off the stream. Turning he found Serena nearby holding out a towel. Grabbing it he rubbed his face hard and then stared at her. He opened his mouth to ask… then rethought his actions and abruptly shut it. Not here Valhalla. Not when you’re dressed in nothing but a towel of all things. “I’ll be back, we need to talk. Don’t go anywhere.”
Serena watched Locke, frowning at his abrupt departure. ‘Don’t go anywhere’ she mimicked to herself… looking down at the grass gently caressing her toes. “Don’t get any ideas, I’m not staying.”
It had been hard watching him shower, not just because Locke had a spectacular body but seeing all those contusions, bruises, cuts and scrapes he’d suffered. All because of her and her problems that she’d bought to his door. Around her the garden whispered its gleeful joy that she was here; its happiness beating at her like hammers. She needed to stay strong. She’d chat with Locke for a few minutes, they’d say their goodbyes and she’d be out of here in no time. What could go wrong with a sound plan like that? Earth what she needed was alcohol she decided, lots and lots of alcohol.
* * *
Locke adjusted his tie for the fourth time with nervous fingers as he stepped out through the open glass door directly from his bedroom into the courtyard and came to an abrupt halt. Serena was sitting at a small wrought iron table she’d set up on one of the sections of grass. There was a bottle of wine, a glass and a seat waiting for him. Good, she’d taken him seriously when he’d said they needed to talk.
He noted for the first time she was wearing a dress, a dark raspberry coloured one that complimented her velvet skin and cascade of white blonde hair. Wow, he must have really been out of it not to have noticed that earlier, just goes to prove what he’d always known to be the truth, dirt… well no good could ever come from dirt. Well, except perhaps when a little blonde wanton witch was rolling around in it.
“Here.” She pushed over a glass in his direction as he took a seat across from her. “Nice suit.” And it was, the all black three piece number accentuated everything about his body that she loved, his long legs, broad shoulders, the colour even made the red glints in his hair stand out and his eyes seem like bottomless dark blue pools. “Feeling better?”
“Much better, thanks.” He drank some of his wine. “And you? You’re okay?”
Okay this was going both better and worse than she’d imagined. Nodding she gave him a small smile and reached for her own glass, more alcohol was going to be needed. “I’m good. It seems like the vampire threat has been dealt with. The warriors have a possible lead on Sek and Mot’s location… except for the smashed shower alcove, well you’d hardly know a warrior vampire battle of epic proportions had occurred here at all.” She forced a small tense laugh.
Locke glanced around. “It could have been worse I suppose and now of course you’re dead.”
“Excuse me?” Serena coughed on a small sip of wine.
“Sorry.” Smooth Valhalla. “I meant the world at large come morning will be thinking you’re dead according to the Chippendales.”
“Oh yes.” She nodded. “The grand plan of theirs. There was quite the argument as to how they were going to kill me off, several very gory options were on the table but I believe the general consensus finally came down to a light plane crash.”
“So you won’t be going back to Atlanta then? You okay about that?”
Serena shrugged, taking another big sip of wine.
“Serena?”
“It’s fine. I’d already begun to come to terms with that chapter of my life being over. Four years running around in that little costume? I think my used by date was already written on the wall, it just took a kidnapping, a stay in a mental hospital and my fictional death to get the message through.”
Locke could hear the truth in her words. “I’m glad you’re okay with it… so what, where next? I mean if you don’t have any plans you’re more than welcome to keep staying here.”
Around them she could hear the garden clamour for her attention, glancing down as a vine of wisteria wrapped itself around her ankle. This garden was proving very tenacious, but didn’t it realise she couldn’t stay? Not because she didn’t love it here, she looked around, she’d put her heart and soul into this garden but it wasn’t enough was it? She looked Locke’s way, she loved him, and he… well he’d be courting boring Dutch Barbie soon enough, it would be too hard to stay.
“Oh… um thanks.” Serena toyed with the stem of her wine glass unable to meet his eyes. Shaking her foot discreetly trying to dislodge the vine that was even now moving upwards to encircle her lower leg and knee.
“No I’m serious.” Locke leaned across the table grabbing her hand gently, encasing it with his own. “Stay. Stay as long as want.”
Serena shivered, staring at Locke, there was something in his words, sincerity, the way he’d said them. She shook off that feeling, no she was just being ridiculous, reading way more into his kind offer than he’d intended. Earth and Stars Serena, stop wussing about and trying to read something more into Locke’s polite offer, just tell him for pity sake, tell him you can’t stay.
She frowned as she felt something begin to climb up and around her left leg, she glared down at a clematis, both her legs were imprisoned now, Earth, this garden was really serious about wanting her to stay. Okay, okay, she reached down and petted the wisteria, I get the message, seriously… back off. She’d claimed the garden and it was only exerting its right to claim her right back. Who was she kidding? A rolling stone? All her adult life she’d drifted because she’d been looking for a place to belong. It hadn’t been the Earth calling to her to move on; it had been her own soul deep need to find where she belonged. And now she’d found it… and Locke, damn how could she stay with Locke so close and yet so far away at the same time? But the idea of leaving her garden, it was abhorrent to her now.
“Well, the thing is Locke, I’m not sure I can leave.” Phew she exhaled
with relief at finally getting the words out. Now for the explosion, she eyed Locke who was naturally looking slightly surprised. Though he hadn’t gone nuclear just yet so maybe he hadn’t heard her correctly or properly understood the full impact of her words.
Locke squeezed her hand a little tighter for a moment then released it, sitting back in his chair, looking relaxed, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She stared at him hard. He had heard her right? Maybe he just didn’t understand the full implications. “I mean it Locke. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to leave.”
“Yeah I got that.” He held out the bottle her way. “More wine?”
“Earth yes. Maybe I’m not explaining this right. It was totally Maat’s fault but I kind of… sort of accidentally… bound myself to your garden.”
“Bound?”
Locke’s eyebrow quirked for a moment and there was a heat in his eyes that suddenly had Serena thinking of silken bonds, handcuffs and restraints... gulp. What had they been talking about? “Yes bound. When I first arrived here I formed a temporary bond with your garden, a give and take, rest and rejuvenation symbiosis if you like. The thing is… when I was talking to Maat earlier she kind of backed me into a corner with all her talk about you and the garden and I kind of, well I kind of claimed it. The bond… well it’s … I think it’s permanent.”
“You can never leave?” Locke asked with more curiosity on his face than concern.
Was something wrong with the man, why was he not more upset? “Oh sure I can leave… temporarily, a couple of days, a week but if I stay away too long the garden might go into crisis.”
“And what would happen to you?”
Finally some concern in his eyes but he seemed more interested in her health than the situation they were in. “I don’t know, probably nothing. Once a witch is bonded, well they don’t tend to wander far, like my Grandmother and Mother. There is a story though of a witch who was displaced during the last war… the story goes that she weakened gradually over a few weeks, eventually falling into a coma that she never emerged from.”