NO! Whirling around, he struck the wall with his fist. His hand shattered the drywall and spewed a cloud of dust into the air. As always, he felt no pain. No blood dripped from his hands.
But torture knotted his insides.
Hell’s mercy! How could she have done this? She knew nothing of what it was like to be stuck on this earth. The harsh reality of forever was not as nice as it seemed. Death was a blessing.
No. He could not let her do this.
Punching the numbers on the phone, he paced the floor. It rang over and over and over. Finally, the answering machine picked up.
“This is Rane. Leave me a message,” the old wizard’s voice creaked over the line.
Annoyance twisted in Edmund, knotting his stomach and sinking its unreasonable teeth into his mind. What in the hell? Why should a wizard have an answering machine? Come on, couldn’t he just use his damn magic?
Besides, the evil inventions should be wiped from the earth.
The devil was home. He knew he was.
The phone vibrated under his shaking hands. “Answer the damn phone. I swear to God, answer this phone now, you crooked old man! Don’t you dare do it! Don’t you dare cast a single spell for her, or I swear ...! I am coming there now!”
Edmund slammed down the phone, then picked it back up. He redialed Rane’s number.
“Wizard!” Edmund screamed. “Don’t make me do something crazy! Don’t you do it! I swear, if you cast forever on her, I will find a way to make you pay. I will ... I will ...”
Again Edmund slammed down the phone. What in the hell did a person threaten a wizard with?
He could not die. Or be hurt.
The truth was, Edmund now had nothing on the old man. Still, he dialed again. He’d keep right on calling until got through to the old man.
“Answer this phone!” he yelled into the machine. “Rane! Rane! Cease ignoring me! I command you to answer this phone. If you hurt her ... if you, by God, do anything to her ... anything! I swear, old man, I will think of something. Pick up this damn phone!”
* * * * *
The taxi pulled up in front of a small, secluded cottage. Down a long side street, the house was on the very outskirts of the city. Only a few other spread-out homes resided on the road, all tiny and cozy.
“That’ll be sixty,” the driver grunted, his annoyance at having to drive so far very clear.
Geez. She’d be all too happy to pay him and get the hell out of this car. Not only were her legs cramped, but the guy was a jerk. During the whole ride, he’d behaved grumpily. Usually taxi drivers were friendly. But from the moment he’d heard where she wanted to go, a sour look had twisted his wrinkled face, and the old man had done nothing but grunt. An hour in the car with him was quite enough.
Grace opened her door and stepped out. Pulling some of her converted money from her pocket, she handed him his fee through the window. Greedy hands snatched it, then rolled up the window. The black vehicle sped off down the dirt lane in a cloud of dust. Grace turned and faced her destination.
So, she was finally here.
It had taken long enough. By the time she’d gotten home from Edmund’s penthouse ‑‑ an embarrassing feat to say the least, considering she’d had to flag down a cab while wearing Edmund’s robe ‑‑ she’d missed the current flight. She’d had to wait two more agonizing hours. Every other second at the airport she’d spent looking over her shoulder for Edmund.
Then there had been the plane ride. Ughh. Having never been on one before, she’d clutched the seatbelt the whole, entire, long, long, long flight. Every time they hit any turbulence, she’d nearly peed her pants.
But going home would be a lot easier. There would be nothing more to fear.
Her eyes surveyed the cottage. Built of stone, the small home couldn’t be but a couple of rooms. Ivy crawled all over the ancient-looking walls. Smoke wafted from a chimney, assuring her the wizard was indeed there.
With slow steps, she started down the cobblestone walk. Not that she was nervous, but who wouldn’t be a tad apprehensive? She was about to have a wizard cast a spell on her. To live forever.
She took her time, pausing on each stone as she ran everything over in her mind one last time. It all seemed so unreal, but she was a hundred-percent sure about doing it.
At the last step, she stopped, ran her fingers through her hair, and drew a deep breath. Okay. Maybe she was nervous.
Her stomach did a little flip-flop, as if to agree with the thought. Did she even love Edmund? Why was she doing this?
She bit her lip. Best to get it over with. That, or she could stand here asking herself a million question when it all boiled down to one thing ‑‑ she could not let Edmund suffer, and she could not deny her need for him.
Rane was her only solution.
She raised her hand to knock. Before her fist could connect with the wood, the door was flung open. There stood a wrinkled old man, leaning on a twisted wooden staff. Other than his long, pointed beard, he looked nothing like a wizard. He wore jeans and a button-down blue-and-white plaid shirt. On his wrist, a gold watch ticked.
But when she looked into his eyes, she could see the wisdom twinkling in their blue depths. He nodded, and she was sure he had just read her very soul.
“You’re perfect,” he stated. He stepped aside, gesturing to her. “Come in, come in.”
Grace paused, wrinkling her brows. “Perfect?”
“For Edmund, of course.” His voice cracked with age. “I can see it.”
“Oh.” Grace nodded, the frown never leaving her face. She stepped through the doorway, inhaling the scent of wood and ... something else. She couldn’t quite place it. Strange, and floating, it didn’t smell good or bad. Just unknown.
She looked around at a messy room. Clothes and books piled around the main room. To the left, a fire in a huge stone fireplace burned. To the right, a lamp shed light over an unmade bad. In front of her, a closed door led to another room. The kitchen, she’d guess.
Suddenly a loud, flamboyant ringing echoed through the house. Startled, Grace nearly jumped from her skin. She stumbled back, then caught herself. Her eyes flashed to the wizard, who was steadily ignoring it. Didn’t he hear it?
“Your phone ...” She swallowed. “I think it’s a phone, at least ...”
He nodded just as the answering machine picked up. Edmund’s voice hollered across the line, angry and annoyed. “I swear, wizard. Don’t you dare do it! Don’t you ‑‑”
Rane crossed the room and clicked the machine off. “If he truly did not want you to become immortal, he would be on a private jet even now. A piece of him won’t admit it, but he wants it.”
A ripple of fear shot through her. Why was Edmund so very enraged on the machine?
“What about you? Do you want this?” Grace asked. Since yesterday, she’d had plenty of time to think. She couldn’t understand how he’d known. But he had, and she accepted that.
But why ... why do it? She wasn’t paying him. He had no reason to do it. Could this old man have something else under his skin? Should she trust him?
Could anyone trust a man with magic?
“Of course. I’m doing it, aren’t I?” He turned and shuffled around. “Into the kitchen.”
He pressed through the door, and she followed him into a squashed kitchen filled with an old, scratched-up stove, a pea-green refrigerator, and maybe two feet of raw wooden counter space. On it sat both a microwave and a crock pot.
“Yes.” Grace replied. “I just wonder why. What’s in this for you?”
He turned to her, a gentle smile wrinkling his face. “I do enjoy riling Edmund. I won’t deny it. It’s been a hell of a hoot listening to him holler at my machine.” He turned back around and ladled bubbling red liquid from the crock pot into a glass. “But the truth is, I cast the spell that keeps him here. I made him, at but a boy’s age, what he is. He’s never been happy. I do occasionally feel a bit responsible.”
He handed her the glass.
She accepted, surprised when the bubbling liquid did not feel hot at all in her hands. She smudged her fingers along the glass.
“Drink.” He nodded.
She looked at him, then at the glass. Nervousness bubbled in her and twisted around her heart.
She sucked in a breath and brought the glass to her lips. She supposed if she wanted this, there was no way for it but to do it. She’d have to give Rane her trust.
She took a deep sip, appalled by the taste. She nearly gagged, barely swallowing anyway. His hands went to the bottom of the glass and tipped upward. “Drink.”
She took another drink, this time swallowing the foul liquid. It burned as it washed down her throat, surprising her as the liquid had not felt hot to her hands.
Rane took the glass from her just as the phone began to ring. “Answer it. Tell him it is done.”
“Done?” she gasped. Had it truly been so easy? Where was the chanting, the candles? Weren’t there rites or ... or ... surely there was something else.
“It is done,” the wizard confirmed with a grunt. “Now go shut him up.”
Dazed, Grace pushed through the door back into the main room. Picking up the loud, rattling phone, she cleared her throat. “Edmund?”
“Grace.” Panic twisted in his voice. “Grace, no.”
“It’s done, Edmund. I’ll be home soon. We can be together. Don’t be mad.” With that, she hung up the phone. Her hands were shaking as she turned back toward the wizard. “What if he hates me for doing this?”
“No, my dear. Never.” He went to a cabinet and began rooting around. He pulled out a tiny glass jar. Plugged with a blue stopper, pink liquid filled it. “A bit of revenge for you.”
She took the jar and studied it. “Revenge?”
“Lust in a bottle. He bent you to his will for six days. Use that whenever you wish to bend him to yours.” His eyes twinkled with orneriness. “What say you? Tea?”
* * * *
Edmund paced the floor. At this rate, he would wear the tile flooring thin. Hell’s mercy! Who ever heard of having to have marble replaced?
But he could not stop. Or eat. Or sleep. Or do anything but worry.
He’d been smart to avoid love all these years.
The clock struck midnight with twelve loud gongs. Hell’s mercy. He stalked across the main room. Gritting his jaw, he balled his fists together. Where in the hell was she? She’d been gone almost four days. Nearly two since he’d spoken with her and she’d revealed the dreaded news.
She had taken the potion.
The woman had no idea what she had done. He shook his head. Hell’s mercy.
Yet a tiny piece, teeny-tiny, of him could not help but be flooded by relief. Selfish it might be, but he loved her. Now he never had to lose her. Five thousand years from now, she would still be his woman.
He wasn’t sure which he would rather have ‑‑ for Grace to have the freedom of mortality, or to keep her forever.
He grimaced and increased his pacing. Regardless, it was done now. Still, he had half a mind to shake some sense into her. In the future, he would not allow her to act so recklessly.
Once again, he ran his hand through hair. Where in the hell was she?
As if in answer, the doorbell buzzed.
He almost skidded into the door as he ran to it. Swinging it open, he came face-to-face with her. As pretty as ever, her pale skin glowed. She smiled a little lopsided smile, tilting her head. “Still mad?”
Her full lips pouted, immediately driving him mad. Lunging out, he grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her to him. His lips crushed hers in a desperate kiss. Their tongues met, and passion shot through him.
She wrapped her arms around him as he lifted her. Carrying her to the sofa, he laid her down before him and started to kiss every inch of her body.
His mouth trailed down her flat stomach until he reached her buttons. Ripping her jeans open, he slid them and her panties away.
He couldn’t wait. After four days, he needed her like a vampire craved blood.
He tore at his pants, yanking them open. Lifting her hips, he thrust into her.
He took her desperately, his hands knotting in her hair. “Fool,” he grunted. “How could you?”
Her eyes rolled back in her head as she arched under him. “Because I need you. I need to be with you,” she whispered. Soft, like feathers against his skin, her hands ran down his back. “Forever.”
Pausing, his cock buried deep inside her, he stared into her eyes. “You have no idea how long eternity is.”
She smiled. “I hope it’s a long, long time with you. Just like this.”
Epilogue
Ring. Ring.
Grace tossed over and buried her face in the silk sheets. She moaned and shook her head. She was having such a good dream. They were on their honeymoon in the Bahamas, lying under the warm sun on a sunny beach. It was so nice. So peaceful.
Then that ringing started.
She tried to sink back into the wonderful dream, desperate not to let it go.
Ring. Ring.
Oh, hell! Why wouldn’t that awful noise stop?
Ring. Ring.
Damn. She jerked awake, her body flying upright in the bed like a flinging rubber band. Oh! The telephone.
Her eyes were caked with sleep. Rubbing them, she reached blindly for the portable phone. Edmund always set it on the end table before he left for work, so it was handy when he called to check on her.
Her vision focused as she picked up the phone and pushed the on button. “Morning, sweetie.” She snuggled back into the blankets.
“Sweetie?” a man’s deep voice questioned. “Who in the bloody hell is this?”
Grace jerked upright again. “Who is this?”
“Who the bloody hell is this? Where the bloody hell is Edmund?” he demanded in a thick accent much like Edmund’s. It could have been him, but there was something different in the pitch of his voice. Almost like an English accent mixed with a different tone. What was it?
“Where the bloody hell is my brother?” the man demanded.
It clicked. Australian. That was it.
It had to be Bryhan.
Grace bit her lip, trying to decide how to handle this. So, he hadn’t told his brothers about their marriage yet. For hell’s sake, they left for the gathering tomorrow morning. When did he plan to break the news?
He’d proposed months ago. Since then, she’d put him through a flurry of planning. Now it was all settled and going into effect. Tomorrow. First, he’d take her to the gathering, introducing her to his family. After two weeks in England, they would be married in the Bahamas, right on the beach. At sunset, the sand strewn with rose petals. Grace could think of nothing more romantic.
Except, perhaps, the long, three-week honeymoon that would follow. She intended it to be filled with lots of sun, sand, and opportunity for her to use the spell Rane had given. Oh, Edmund was in for a taste of his own medicine.
She shook her head. Should she say something? The truth teetered on her tongue, but still, it was his place to tell them. Not hers. If he wanted to give his family a shock, that was his problem.
“Edmund is out right now. I can have him call you,” she offered. “He won’t be in until this evening. He had to go to San Francisco to meet a client.”
“This evening? Damn. I, um ...” A long pause echoed across the line. She could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. “This is his brother, Bryhan. Listen, luv. Later won’t be good to ring me up. Just tell him something’s come up. I won’t be making it.”
Not making it? Grace frowned. Hadn’t Edmund said they hadn’t missed a meeting in nearly six hundred years?
She wrapped her fingers around her hair, twisting it tight. “Bryhan ... are you sure? Is everything okay?”
“Be a dear, luv, and just pass him the rotten news. Cheers.”
Then line clicked and went dead.
Grace didn’t know what to think. She held the phone in her hand, jumpin
g as it suddenly started to ring again. Pushing the on button, she answered. “Hello?”
“Hello, love. Just calling to say ‘I love you.’” Edmund’s velvet voice poured through the line. “I love you.”
Grace smiled, snuggling back into the silk sheets. “I love you, too.”
Alyssa Brooks
If there is one thing Alyssa Brooks believes, it is that the world is at her fingertips. She wants to touch, taste, and experience everything, from haunted castles to tropical islands, to skydiving or swimming with the dolphins. Knowledge is her power, and books are her escape. Everyday, writing takes her on a new adventure to wherever she wants to go. But wherever it may be, she likes it exciting and she likes it HOT.
At the age of twenty-four, Alyssa has multiple erotic romances e-published. When she isn’t writing new fantasies for her beloved fans, her time is spent freelance editing. In those rare moments when she isn’t working, she pleasures in her number one hobby, her husband. She also enjoys gardening, and hiking.
To find out more about Alyssa’s books, visit her website at www.alyssabrooks.com. To email her, send to [email protected].
* * * * *
Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of
Tales of Enchantment 1: The Question of Royalty
by Kai Andersen
Available Now from Loose Id
Tales of Enchantment 1: The Question of Royalty
Frederick trailed hot lips across her cheek and nibbled on the shell of her ear. “You're so beautiful, Serena. So lush and full and sweet. You're made for me.”
The sensations coursing through her were so exquisite that she sobbed as his lips continued its assault on her ear. She was swept into a world where nothing mattered but the pleasure of her senses. She just knew that she was burning, and only he could satisfy that fiery need. She wanted nothing else but his lips on her lips, on her breasts, on her body.
Responding to an inner urging, she pulled his head down and her lips touched his hungrily. They shared an open-mouthed kiss so hot and torrid that Serena felt the ripple of shock that went through Frederick. Instead of being alarmed, she experienced a decidedly feminine thrill that she could incite such a reaction from a man like Frederick.
Spell of Love: Lust Upon Roses Page 7