by Sennah Tate
He knew she wasn’t being completely forthcoming with him. But how could she be? She was a witch. Surely she knew if there were Ley Lines beneath the library or not. He had to get it out of her.
“I read something else when I was reading about Ley Lines,” he said, testing the waters as she shifted nervously in her seat. Talking about magic seemed to unsettle her. “About Guardians. Do you know anything about that?”
Sarah shook her head. “No. I’m not well-versed in magical lore.”
He rifled through the stacks on the desk, looking for the paper he had in mind.
“Here,” he said, holding the paper up to the light. The library was quiet and dark, Janine had left for the day hours ago, leaving them alone to their research. Sloan never would have believed that he could do research while being alone with this delectable woman.
“A Guardian Witch sacrifices herself for the protection of the Lines. In exchange, she, and only she, can wield the power of the Lines. Failure to protect the Ley Lines is a fate worse than death for a Guardian Witch, as loss of the power will leave her empty and void of humanity.”
“Well that’s grim,” Sarah said, taking the paper from him, “You can’t always believe things like this though. The Coven back in the old days was a lot of doom and gloom, fire and brimstone — they liked to control people with fear.”
“I’ve heard they still do,” he said, garnering a look of surprise from her.
“What do you know about the Coven?”
He leaned in and toyed with the charms around her wrist, his fingers settling on the all-seeing eye. Many witches used the symbol for focus and protection.
“Enough,” he answered, not needing any more words to get his point across.
Sarah’s head whipped around, colliding with Sloan’s. They both winced and rubbed the fresh red mark on their foreheads.
“Ow. I’m sorry,” Sarah apologized.
Sloan dismissed her apology. “It’s okay,” he sighed, the moment between them broken again.
After another moment of rubbing her sore head, Sarah seemed to remember what had caught her by surprise.
He saw the wheels turning in her head as she tried to formulate the question: Did he know she was a witch?
“Well,” he said with a big stretch, “maybe it’s time we call it a night. I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot meal and a nice long nap.”
She bit back the question on the tip of her tongue, looking relieved before she answered with a yawn. “Sure. We can pick back up tomorrow, if you’d like.”
Sloan nodded. He had a lot to think about. The Ley Lines were undoubtedly real. He was convinced of that now. Just as convinced as he was that they ran beneath his very feet. But was Sarah the Guardian the Ley Lines needed? And what would happen to her if his clan took control?
A fate worse than death, he remembered, empty and void of humanity.
He looked at Sarah, so vibrant and full to bursting with enthusiasm. The thought of her as a hollow husk of a person made his heart clench in protest. Over his dead body.
Chapter 11
SARAH
For the next week or so, Sarah busied herself with preparations for the literacy event and tried to forget about the possibility of letting Sloan any closer than he’d already gotten. When she thought about that night in his office, about how close she’d been to revealing her secret…
Sarah shook her nerves free. There was no need to worry about that now. This was the day she’d been waiting for all along. She didn’t want to spoil the event she’d worked so hard on, worrying about Sloan and what he knew. She hadn’t said anything. He didn’t know. Couldn’t know. Right?
Her hands trembled on the steering wheel. She fought back the surge of magic that rushed through her just from thinking of him. She heard her mother’s voice ringing in her mind as her eyes settled on the bumblebee charm on her wrist.
Yeah, yeah. I know.
Why couldn’t she just have one day? A single day where her magic didn’t get in the way. Was it too much to ask that she get to enjoy Literacy Day without being on edge?
As if answering her silent questions, images of Sloan’s hand on hers, their lips nearly touching as he whispered her name, crept into her imagination.
The car jerked forward and Sarah felt the energy jolt from her body as the car sputtered and coasted to a stop.
“You have got to be kidding me…”
So that was a big fat NO, she could not have one day without her magic messing up her entire life.
With an exasperated groan, she fell forward, hitting her forehead on the steering wheel repeatedly. This was a new one — her car had never been the victim of her magic before. She turned the key in the ignition and groaned again. The battery wasn’t even working — she had to pull her cell phone out just to check the time.
Ten minutes. She was supposed to give the keynote speech in ten minutes and after months of fighting to make this stupid event happen, she wasn’t even going to be there.
She tried the ignition again before accepting the situation and deciding to continue on foot. So much for those cute kitten heels Mom had loaned her to go with the pretty floral sundress she’d gotten just for the event. If she walked the mile and a half to Kerris in the heels, not only would her feet hate her, but her mother would never forgive her for the scuffs.
Luckily, she kept a spare pair of sneakers in her trunk. For years, she told herself that she was going to start walking around the block at lunch for exercise. For years, those sneakers stayed in her trunk, untouched. No use beating herself up about it now, at least they were in the trunk. That’s what really mattered.
She rooted around through the piles of books and miscellaneous items in her car, determined to find the shoes, somewhere. In the distance, she heard someone approaching and briefly thought to ask for a ride. It only took a split-second to rule out hitchhiking. Even in a little town like Palm Haven. There was being naive and then there was painting a target on yourself. It wasn’t that far. She could walk.
As the sound of the approaching vehicle grew louder, she realized it was a motorcycle.
Definitely not. She found one shoe and set it on the ground before looking for its mate. The motorcycle passed and kicked up a storm of gravel as it skidded to a stop. Sarah froze, her heart thundering. Did she have a weapon in the trunk anywhere?
She grabbed the heaviest book she could find and peeked over her car as the motorcyclist walked his bike backwards without dismounting. Maybe he just wanted to help. Maybe he wasn’t going to do unspeakable things to her before leaving her body in a ditch. Her fingers twitched.
“Need a ride?”
That voice.
She knew that voice.
But…
He pulled his helmet off and flashed a cocky grin her way.
Sarah sighed, feeling silly for her panic. “Sloan. I didn’t recognize you,” she said, breathless.
She’d always thought the worst of people on motorcycles. All those tattoos and leather. It didn’t really go with her quiet librarian lifestyle. Sloan wore only a tight t-shirt and jeans, and Sarah saw his finely sculpted arms for the first time. He’s always wore a suit and she’d never seen him without long sleeves. Her eyes traveled from broad shoulders, down to well-shaped biceps and triceps; her mouth went dry.
“Well?” The muscles in his arm flexed and rippled and she realized he was offering the helmet to her.
“Oh… I don’t… I’m not…”
He laughed and patted the seat behind him, “Don’t worry, just hold on tight. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her insides melted. Of course she shouldn’t read into those words, but it was too late. She’d already fought the helmet over her bun and swung her leg — however indelicately — over the vibrating machine. Being so close to him had her magic roiling and crackling. What if she destroyed his motorcycle?
“Maybe this is a bad id—” Before she could finish the thought, the bike lurched f
orward and it was all she could do to latch her arms around his torso before he picked up speed.
Terror gripped her as the wind whipped by at unnatural speeds. She tightened her grip and felt the hard outlines of Sloan’s muscles beneath his t-shirt. With her face pressed against his back, she inhaled the warm earthy scent that was wholly Sloan. Liquid heat pooled between her legs and energy prickled her fingertips.
No. Not now. Just relax, she tried to tell herself. She took deep gulping breaths of his scent and forced herself to calm down. Just as she was starting to think this wasn’t so bad and she kind of liked being so close to him, the bike stopped.
“You survived,” he teased, turning to her.
She was thankful that the full helmet hid the flush in her cheeks, but his sly grin said he knew the effect he had on her, anyway.
“Um… Thanks,” she muttered, handing his helmet back to him.
“Sarah!” Janine called to her, tugging her away from Sloan “You’re due on stage in two minutes!”
The rest of the day was a whirlwind. There were fun, games, engaging talks and readings. Sloan apparently had a few connections and had brought in a few well-known children’s authors for signings. It was better than she could have hoped for and the turnout was at least triple that of the previous year.
Maybe he was sincere after all. He’d put a lot of work into making this happen on such short notice. Where Sarah hadn’t had the sway or influence to get donors and participants, Sloan picked up the slack. It wouldn’t have been half the success it was without him. She owed him.
The day had been so busy, that she never saw Sloan again after Janine ripped her from his motorcycle. As the day wound down, she spotted him across the park helping pack up supplies. He looked like a completely different person in jeans and a t-shirt. She never really thought about it much before, but a well-fitting pair of jeans was one of the sexiest things she’d seen on a man. That the man in question was Sloan only made it sexier. The denim hugged the muscles of his ass perfectly and made Sarah think about his hips, moving in time with her, burying himself inside of her.
Pop! Popopopopopopopopop! Pop!
Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin as an entire cluster of festive balloons above her erupted in quick succession thanks again to her twitchy fingers.
Sloan — and a dozen other people — turned to look the source of the noise, eyes settling on her. Now would be a good time to crawl into a hole.
A sharp finger poked her in the ribs and Sarah whirled around to find Janine giving her a conspiratorial smile.
“You might want to pick your jaw up off the floor, honey,” she teased.
Sarah shook her head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve smelled less bullshit at a manure factory. I don’t know who you’re trying to fool, but you’re doing a terrible job of it.”
Sarah frowned and clasped her hands together in a plea, “Please don’t say anything. I don’t even know what the hell is wrong with me.”
Janine laughed and clapped a hand on her arm, “Don’t worry. You’re just wound tighter than that bun of yours. You have to let loose now and then; it’s not healthy to keep everything bottled up.”
“Ugh, you sound like my mother,” Sarah joked, her words sounding hollow even to herself.
No matter how badly she wanted it, she couldn’t jeopardize Sloan like that. Memories of Tommy Geiger, bleeding in her bed as she screamed and cried for help, plagued her. Her mother had come running and did her best to patch Tommy up, but not before he called Sarah a freak and a monster and swore to make sure no one ever asked her out again.
His promise was pointless, of course. The event had traumatized Sarah enough that she never ever wanted to let her magic surface again. If she fed it with sex, she’d never be able to control it.
“She sounds like a smart woman. We’re going to try out a new bar; girl’s night if you want to join. Then you can tell us how you ended up on that motorcycle this morning,” she lifted her eyebrows and Sarah laughed, shaking her head.
“Thanks, but I’m pretty exhausted. I could use a ride to my car, though, and a jump.” She hoped it wasn’t irreparably damaged. Hopefully a jump would be enough to get it going again.
Janine didn’t try to hide her disappointment, but she nodded.
By the time Sarah got home, she was ready to collapse on the couch and stay there for a few days.
“Mom! I’m home!” One of these days she’d get her own place. They’d talked about it a few times, but neither of them was in a hurry to be on their own. It was kind of nice to have someone to come home to.
Her mother poked her head out of the bathroom, sliding an earring through her lobe, “Hi honey, how was your big day?”
Sarah beamed, “Great, actually—”
“That’s wonderful! You should be out celebrating with friends!” Her mother was too cheerful. Her make-up freshly applied, not a hair out of place as she fastened a long necklace around her neck, the pendant dipping into her cleavage.
“Nah, that’s okay, Janine invited me out, but…” she shrugged, “I’m pooped. I just want to veg out on the couch with Netflix until I pass out.”
Her mother frowned, “I’m having company over, you should go out with your friends.”
“That’s okay, I’m sure your friend won’t bother me,” she yawned.
Her mother fixed her with a stern look. A look that told her she was missing the point and was about to be scolded.
“I’m having company, over, Sarah. Now, I don’t care if you go out with your friends or if you drive to Tallahassee, but my gentleman friend and I need privacy.”
Sarah’s face scrunched up in disgust, maybe she needed to re-think that whole thing about getting her own place. She nearly quipped about the depressing state of affairs when her mother got more action than she did, but she knew that was by choice. Just because she was frustrated didn’t mean she should take it out on her mother.
She sighed, “Okay, I guess I’ll call Janine and tell her I’ve changed my mind.”
“Great idea!” her mother beamed.
“I need to change, though,” Sarah protested as her mother ushered her toward the door.
“Nonsense. That dress is adorable. You just need an adjustment.” In a flurry of movement, her mother had released Sarah’s hair from its bun and applied a quick coat of mascara to her long lashes.
“Beautiful,” she gushed, giving Sarah another healthy shove toward the door, “Have fun! Don’t hurry home!”
The Sable Street Pub was definitely one of the new happening places in Palm Haven. Sarah had trouble finding a parking spot and when she finally did, she felt completely out of place with the young attractive crowd. Was this really where Janine wanted to hang out?
“Sarah! Over here!” Janine stood on her tip toes waving her arm wildly in Sarah’s direction. She couldn’t help but smile as she shoved her way through the crowd to Janine’s table. There were two other women that Sarah recognized from the monthly book clubs, and Janine introduced them as Kelly and Diana. The high table they sat at was positively littered with glasses of all shapes and sizes, drinks of every color of the rainbow.
“Wow,” Sarah said, nearly shouting to be heard over the crowd, “are these all yours?”
Janine laughed, “These kids all think I’m a cougar!” She shrugged, her smile widened by a healthy buzz, “Free drinks! Help yourself!”
Why was she surprised? Of course Janine was the kind of woman to get free drinks wherever she went. Sarah always paid for her drinks.
A waitress in a micro-mini skirt walked by with a tray full of pre-made shots; Janine flagged her down and bought them all a round — two for Sarah (“You have to catch up!”) — before proposing a toast.
“To strong drinks, good friends, and plentiful eye candy!”
Diana and Kelly answered with “Hear hear” and they all clinked glasses, looking at Sarah expectantly.
So this is what pee
r pressure felt like. Sarah had to admit that it was nice to be included in something, even if she’d always been the one excluding herself.
“Hear hear,” she said, clinking her glass with the others before downing both shots Janine gave her. By the time she swallowed, the horrible burning taste hit her and she gasped, sputtered and coughed.
Janine clapped her on the back and grinned, “There you go!” She waved her arms and shook her entire body, “You gotta loosen up! And speaking of eye candy…”
Sarah giggled, the alcohol affecting her exhausted system more quickly than usual.
“Don’t even,” she protested, knowing where Janine was headed.
“Little Miss Sarah over here, came riding up to our event on the back of the director’s motorcycle.”
Diana and Kelly both seemed impressed by this revelation.
Sarah couldn’t let them jump to conclusions. “No!” she said too loudly, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth.
“That was nothing,” she slurred slightly. Was it the alcohol, the company, or her still simmering magic? She felt like she was watching the entire scene from far off, but there weren’t any worries.
“My car just died. It was…” And there. At the bar. She saw him. “...Nothing.”
Chapter 12
SLOAN
From where Sloan stood, the event had been a great success. At least a dozen people complimented him on a job well done on such short notice. He thanked them all politely, but it wasn’t their opinion he cared about. There was only one person he cared about.
His tiger struggled all day to be so close to her without interacting at all. Sloan himself wasn’t too thrilled about how little interaction he had with Sarah after she was whisked away from him that morning. Remembering her arms wrapped around him, her breath on the back of his neck as the wind whipped past… The memory was enough to make him half-hard again.
God. What was it about that witch? Was it just her magic drawing him in?