She closed her eyes, trying to connect with his thoughts in spite of the fact she felt wary about taking her eyes off watching the road with the speed the man drove. He steered them toward the outskirts of the city like some dire emergency awaited them there. She felt overwhelmingly frustrated when none of his thoughts came to her; she had no explanation of how such a thing could be. It was not possible for a person to be thinking absolutely nothing for so long a time, especially when driving. He had to be at least concentrating on the road, or the next turn he would have to make.
She relaxed the aching fingers she’d been holding in fists on her lap. When he took a turn too fast, having her eyes closed left her off balance and she slammed into the hardness of his body. Had it not been for her pride, she would have yelped at the pain his upper arm inflicted upon hers and then rubbed at the ache.
“What are you doing?” He asked with obvious agitation, although her body had not jarred his at all. The car had even managed the turn smoothly for the speed and incident.
“Sorry, I closed my eyes for a second,” she said sheepishly, already mad at herself for making such a poor showing. The last thing she needed was for this man to think she actually needed caring for.
“It is a bit early for bed, isn’t it? We will be at your Poppie’s in just minutes, if you can keep yourself awake until then.”
She chewed on the inside of her mouth while letting out a few long, hard breaths through her nose, searching for the smart-ass remark that would redeem her wounded pride. Yet, nothing came to her except the ache and tingle in her arm in the location where it had met with his. Her brain had officially abandoned her.
Chapter Two
He drove down the stone driveway of the old farmhouse he had been instructed to take her to. The stupid, showy and sporty car had not been built for such a place. Ahti and his car choices. They got odder every assignment and this one took the prize.
Now on the outskirts of the city, he never understood how quickly the land could turn rural. Once he came to a stop, before he even had the car in park, she had slipped out of the car and slammed the door shut. He sighed heavily and shook his head. He could see, on top of what he couldn’t tell her and the unexplainable fact he literally ached to hold her against him, she was not going to make any of this easy. By the time he walked through the back door she had left open for him, she was already waging a verbal war with her grandfather.
“I know, Poppie, but in most cases people today do not physically torture those they accuse in these modern day witch hunts. It is a little different now here in Salem than it was in 1692.”
“No, not typically, but you do not know this group of men, their history nor the history of their grandfathers. It may be some three hundred years since the last witch hunts in America, but there are some blunt similarities here.”
“Which are?”
“The accusers are both extreme religious groups who will stop at nothing, even breaking their own religious rules, to gain total control. They are ruthless in their oppression of anyone who dares stand in their way, inducing fear to gain followers. The Mastema justify harming others in the name of a so-called peaceful existence. Only, they are so self-centered they only care of their peace.”
Luca could see the old man’s hands trembling, and he did not like the aura emanating from the guy in his state of stress. So, he came to the guy’s rescue. In the little time he had spent with her, he was already well aware Kamillia could be a formable opponent.
“While they always have a scapegoat, these men have killed before,” Luca could see the pain speaking this truth caused the older man; although he knew Kamillia would be blind to it in her ignorance of the true story of her parents' death. “And, they have a reputation of instilling fear in everyone by any means necessary. While they claim to be devout, religious men, it is only a front for their play with black magic. It is a power trip for them, another means to or attempt at control.”
She had not turned to him as he spoke, just thrown her head back to look at the ceiling and rolling her eyes.
“Black magic?” She turned to him, now, her hands on her hips, and he cursed himself for observing a moment too long the way her curves swayed to one side. “Well, I write about that, in my fan-ta-sy novels. The men can play all they want; it doesn’t mean they can actually evoke some demon.”
Luca had no choice but to work at her level of knowledge. His instructions had been clear. He was not to be the one to tell Kamillia the truth about her parents' deaths or about the gifts she had inherited from them. “Okay, but demons or not, they believe in it. Magic need not be true to be dangerous when it deals in so much negativity. It gives them a smug sense of power, which makes the one who believes in and takes joy in evil quite dangerous. You can surely, at least, agree to that?”
He saw relief relax the old man’s features. He wouldn’t have chosen the name Poppie for such a man. Luca surmised if anyone outside of Kamillia had uttered the name they would find themselves shaking, dangling by their shirt from the man’s powerful hands. He was not told what her grandfather had done for a living, but he had that lumberjack build and stance about him. A full head of white hair shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the windows, making it appear even brighter than it already looked in comparison to his deeply browned skin. When Luca first entered, he had noticed how the veins in the man’s arms had popped up over his tense muscles. He had thought him an odd sight as he let Kamillia rant at him and surrounded by the country floral décor of the kitchen. Surely, nothing here had been touched since his wife’s death, left in memory of the woman who had cared for them here. Although he had never met her, her love still radiated from every ounce of the room.
“Fine, let’s just sit here and wait to hear the fire trucks.” Kamillia plopped herself down on a kitchen chair and crossed her arms over her chest, never answering his question.
He stopped the smile threatening to form at the sides of his mouth. He did not want to find her so intriguing or so hot in her boldness, in the spunky fighting way she had of existing. Dealing with being human, hunger, and illness, had always been bad enough during his visits, but to have this body dealing with lust opened a whole other can of worms entirely.
The beige sweater she had grabbed before they left the house to ward off the cooling early fall nights here in the northeastern states had slid off one of her shoulders when she sat down. The rounded curve revealed to him again, this way, somehow changed things like the tightness of his stomach. Her skin glistened a light golden copper from the sun, and he could see the line of a tan mark showing the true creamy color of her skin. While he could use a sweatshirt himself, just looking at her, thinking about her, had kept him warm so far. His gaze trailed up the line of her neck, left him wanting to put his head there and take in her scent fully. Only, when his perusal moved to her face she scowled at him, pulling her sweater together and covering the creamy flash of skin from his view.
“Do you two wardens mind if I at least check my emails? Or maybe you guys should keep explaining and I will form a new story from it.” She broke into a grin that told him he had been caught. His stomach twisted when she raised her eyebrows.
He contemplated the idea of her flirting with him like he would analyze a major world problem. He had been hit on a few times before here on Earth, but he wouldn’t want to have to turn her down. Reprimanding himself to stop this train of thought, he forced himself to remember who he was and why he was here.
He continued to lecture himself as she reached for her computer case, making a noise somewhere between a huff and a giggle. Yet, before her hands even got to it, she coiled back on herself gripping her stomach as if in pain. Only, no sound had escaped her this time. Luca bridged the distance between them in one step just in time to catch her as she fell from the chair.
Her body moved in little convulsions as she continued to curl over her stomach. She reached for her throat like she was choking, but he knew she had not put anything in her m
outh to eat.
“Is she epileptic?” He asked of her grandfather who looked at him with horror evident in his eyes. The old man merely shook his head to indicate 'no' as a response, and Luca could see the look of concern on his face. Luca centered his concentration back on her, and hoped if he needed the old man, he would be able to help him.
“Kamillia, what is going on?” he begged of the woman in his arms, his fear making him physically sick.
When she gave him no response, it hit him hard what was happening. Her whole aura was being invaded. The light colors which had been vibrantly surrounding her just a minute ago, had an inky, oily blackness swirling through them now. He held her tighter, trying to calm his own mounting stress as he addressed her grandfather.
“They changed plans. They must have seen us leave the house. They are attacking her by attempting some sort of possession or something. They are probably laughing, unaware of the nature of the demon they invoked. Something evil is invading her, hurting her. I can feel it clogging up the air, although it is not aimed at me. They are more powerful than they even realize. She is barely breathing, and she is so afraid!”
“It is okay, Kamillia. I have you. Don’t be afraid of it. Fight it. I will help you,” he coached, hoping she could hear him.
Her grandfather fell to his knees in front of them, giving a nod of his head indicating Luca could do what he must to save her. Luca summoned the powers of his energy to heal using the positive emotions of his immortal being. Unlike the other times he had used this power to fight such vile atrocities, he had trouble finding the true calm he needed to tap into the power necessary to save her. Although he was not being attacked, too, this beast, this invasion felt more personal to him than it should. Refocusing on the importance of his job, he tapped into it and let it wash from him over her.
The way she looked in his arms, so frail in comparison to her stubborn strength just moments ago, ate at him. Even if wrong, he remembered the way his body had warmed the moment he first saw her, and his energy level raised now. Allowing himself to think back, he saw in his mind the way her cream tank top had curved over her breast and indented into her stomach until it disappeared into her shortened version of jeans. Each angle invited touch. He had only to look down now to see his hand there, hovering just above her hip. Panic and lust warred within him, and he knew the lust would be his only chance to gain him enough power to win her back from this evil.
She gasped for air. The menacing sound tore at him on some primal level. What he was doing was working to some extent, but not enough. His powers only diminished some of the negative energy fueling the demon. Her eyes grew wider from the fear and the pain. He found it hard to watch someone who had talked so tough just minutes before, become so incapable of helping herself the next. He looked up to see this fear and pain mirrored in her grandfather’s eyes.
She gained strength, though, either from her fear or the possession. Kicking out her legs and straightening her arms, she seemed to want to escape him. Only, he knew it to be the evil he battled. He gripped her tighter, realigning his hands to trap her arms and legs from moving her away from him, proving himself a worthy opponent to the end.
“I need help against this strength of evil. Ahti underestimated their drive to hurt her, or once again they have summoned powers beyond what we thought they were capable of. It is your call.” Luca was sure the grandfather knew what he meant, just as he was sure her parents would want her life to be saved before their secret kept.
Luca immediately felt her grandfather start to reign in the positive energy needed. Kamillia was beginning to lose consciousness, stiffening and thrashing one minute and then going slack in his arms the next. When the old man started to chant, she opened her eyes in response to his voice. With glazed eyes, her gaze followed the motion her grandfather’s hands as he laid them upon her. Between the immortal and the old witch, the light of their positive energy ignited the atmosphere, making the area around their joined bodies glow the way headlights lit fog. The love of her Poppie proved just the edge their magic needed to win this battle, along with the connection of the heredity of his powers to hers.
The air itself became electric, hissing and crackling as she started to breathe again. Her grandfather still chanted with his eyes closed when her body slumped against Luca, tired from the invasion. He felt her breathing stabilize, as did his. He fought the urge to hug her, to pull her to him tightly and offer her words of comfort. He didn’t want to think about the fact that if he did so he may need comforting himself.
“Poppie?” She asked in a voice no louder than a whisper, though Luca felt her body tense with the exertion it took to form the single word.
Then, she looked up at Luca who could not keep the smile of relief from his face. He had always been a staunch warrior, never unsettled in battle no matter what the stakes. However, with her, feelings had unnerved him, deterring him for a moment from his mission, his obligation to this woman and to the world.
“My poor Kamillia,” her grandfather moaned, his shaky voice inconsistent with the man.
Luca’s heart broke for her grandfather, too. He was sure there had been only two women in this man’s life who could bring him to such a state, to take the grizzly bear down to a cub. The news he had to tell her now could be devastating, or confusing, at best, for Kamillia.
“Please forgive us all for not telling you before,” the old man continued. “It was your parent’s dying wish you never know. They wanted to protect you from the ones who killed them. I fear still keeping this secret would do more harm than good with the same enemy coming after you now. You must know the truth of your parents' death and of your heritage.”
“Can you handle this information right now, Kamillia,” Luca up spoke softly, inquiring.
He could not stand to see the pain and the fear return to darken her eyes so soon. And, despite himself, he liked that she made no move to get up off of him yet. He felt as if he had held her like this before, like it had been too long his flesh had been denied hers. If he didn’t get control over this body soon, he was going to have to buy a bigger size of jeans. These ones had been killing him since she opened her door.
The soft breaths she took had begun to increase. The world forgive him, he liked the way her back pressed against his chest almost in time with his heartbeat. Get a grip, now! You have to be focused to complete your mission, the mission of which is keeping her safe. And, when the mission is over you will have to leave her.
“Handle it? I guess I have to. You are both scaring me, no matter how badly I hate to admit it.”
He had never heard her voice so light and vulnerable. Only, it did not last.
“Could someone please explain to me what the hell just happened here first? The mysterious sudden illness that disappeared as quickly as it came once you two lit up like light bulbs. Even as I say it, I don’t believe it.”
He was not surprised to find her grandfather to be looking at him for help.
“Listen, Kamillia,” he began, trying to keep his own voice level. “I am not completely sure, but I do know it was the Mastema attacking you, not some mysterious illness. Though I guess you could view it as such.”
“The Mastema, again! I thought they were going to burn down my house?”
“They were, but someone must have been watching you. They took another approach.”
“If you haven’t noticed, the Mastema are not here,” she argued, and he took the deepening of her voice with anger a good sign she was winning the war over her fear.
“And, that is why I am going to give the floor to your grandfather. What he has to tell you will help it all to make sense. I hope.”
Even as he helped her to a chair, his body began to feel the loss of hers being against him. Luca watched her features change expressions several times as her grandfather told Kamillia about her heritage. She met The fact her parents were witches with a deeply furrowed brow, her mouth flashing between a smirk and a frown. She shook her head shook
from side to side indicating she didn’t believe him, these incredible outlandish tales he told her, several times the small movements of protest would stop, only to resume again as new information spilled from the old man's lips. Her grandfather kept talking on, ignoring all the mixed emotions crossing over her face.
He went through how powerful each of her parents had been, and each of their special gifts for magic. When he would pause for a reaction, she would set jaw and a glare would darken her eyes, making the poor old man go right back to talking. Luca knew what was to come next would be the hardest part: explaining why her parents had never wanted her to know.
“They had hoped to protect you from their same fate,” the man rambled on, his voice deepening with his own pain. “As your father died that night, dear, when we all knew there was nothing more we could do to save either of them, he begged of us never to tell you. The truth of their death is not some accident out hiking in the woods as you were led to believe. It was the Mastema.”
This name seemed trigger her first verbal response.
“Stop it! Just stop it. You are not going to scare me with your lies. I would have headed your warnings about them regardless.”
Luca went to her side, to try to help. “Remember what you saw here tonight, Kamillia. How else can you explain what happened to you, or how your grandfather and I saved you? No one else came into the room, nor was anything else brought in or out, and yet you were attacked and we saved you.”
“I don’t know, but you can’t blame everything in the world on these Mastema you constantly speak of. I swear, the only true power they have is from your belief in them.”
A Cursed All Hallows' Eve Page 154