Never Give Up on Love (The Soul Mate Tree Book 7)

by Maggie Mundy

  Even so, her gut tightened, having already guessed what the unusual tree represented. The truth would come out eventually. As a witch, she’d messed with things she should never have touched. Not going to admit that now. She’d rather deal with another bloodsucker than have Jake pissed off with her.

  Jake peered at her, and she stared into her glass to avoid his scrutinizing gaze.

  “Well, let’s hope he was a loner, and Henry Rushton is not back to his old tricks. The London Witch Hunters seem to think they have Rushton cornered and will deal with him soon enough. Trouble is, he disappears and then bobs back up somewhere else like a rotten apple.”

  Adele hoped the London group had it under control too. The last time Henry Rushton and his wild men were on the loose, the London group ended up with two dead witches. She wasn’t going to let that happen on their watch.

  Jake called in to Command, and Adele poured them another drink. A fresh team would be on call now.

  She stared into the amber fluid in her glass and trembled. She couldn’t shake the sensation someone had watched her and Jake the whole time. Did the guy from the tree sneak out and follow her? Does he even exist? Stupid, to think it meant anything.

  Tomorrow, in daylight, she would head back to the churchyard, hoping to see nothing more than old gravestones and a tree left over from Christmas with some daggy lights draped over it.

  The alternative was checking into the local psychiatric hospital.

  Chapter 2

  Adele stretched her aching muscles. She needed to work out this morning after the previous evening’s fight. Otherwise she’d be walking like an arthritic old lady by the end of the day. Painkillers for her headache would be a good idea as well.

  She’d let the parasite get too close last night. In the bathroom, she examined the wound on her neck. The skin was still brown from the antiseptic, but not infected. It would heal in a day or two, but who knew what crap these fiends had on their fangs?

  Jake would insist she double up on lessons. In fact, he’d already sent a message through, saying he would see her at the gym the next day.

  The bigger issue wasn’t the vampire, but the churchyard and the strange tree. She’d do her stretches, have breakfast, and head back to the village. She needed to check the place out in the daylight; assure herself it was just an ordinary graveyard.

  The village appeared quaint in the daytime, no dark shadows or sinister characters lurking in bushes. People sat on the green and threw bread to the ducks on the pond. The local shop had a few customers coming and going. No one recognized her from the night before, which was good. Wearing a baggy top and jeans, Adele didn’t stand out. No leathers today.

  She headed toward the church. Peeping inside, she didn’t see anyone visiting its pews. With a deep breath, Adele passed the front entrance and walked around the side of the building. Her heart pounded with a mixture of fear and excitment at the prospect of seeing the tree again.

  Damn, nothing. Adele folded her arms and pursed her lips as she stared at the wall of the church. “What the . . .?”

  “Can I help you?” someone said from behind her.

  Adele turned to see a middle-aged man, dressed in black.

  “Hi. I visited once before, and I thought there was a tree here. It had fairy lights on the night I saw it.”

  The man raised an eyebrow and obviously thought she was nuts.

  “I’m Father Jenkins. I’ve only been in the parish a year. They’ve done some cleaning up of the churchyard. I can’t say I remember anything like a tree.”

  Adele shoved her hands in her pockets and shifted from one foot to the other. “Thanks. I must have my churches mixed up.”

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No, thank you. It’s a lovely little village here.”

  “Yes, though we had a bit of an event last night. A young woman, assaulted. The police still aren’t sure where the attacker is.”

  “I’ll make sure I’m careful. I hope she’s all right, and he doesn’t come back. I expect the police might do some extra patrols or something.”

  A local parishioner entered the churchyard, and the clergyman was distracted so she could get away. Adele trooped back to the van. She’d head home and work on her photos. Later, she would get some answers about something she should never have touched. The tricky part would be doing it without anyone noticing, or she would be in a heap of trouble.

  The next three hours were spent culling all the photos she didn’t want to use, and sending the rest to the magazine. Adele hoped they liked them. There were some good shots there, but she always thought she could do better. Needing to lighten her mind, she pondered how Carla had gotten along with her sexy model.

  Adele sighed. Maybe one day she would resume having sex. At least Carla was getting enough for both of them.

  ~ ~ ~

  She pulled up at one of the houses on The Crescent, in Bath. The beautiful Georgian circle of houses made of golden sandstone shone in the afternoon light. As a teenager, she’d come here every night after school, and for an hour, she’d study her witchcraft. When she went home, she would do all the normal study other kids did, and still hated math.

  Hubert ran the house, and had an open-door policy. If past students wanted to come and check up on things, or ask him questions, they could. She wouldn’t be asking him anything today. It would mean she would have to admit to what she’d done long ago, and that wasn’t happening.

  Adele made her way through the grand hallway with its black and white tiled floor. Lessons were taking place in the rooms to the right, and self-study would be going on in the library to the left. She tiptoed up the stairs and onto the landing.

  Standing outside the fourth door to the left, her hands trembled. The memory came back to her, of when she had done this before. If she wanted answers she needed to get inside before someone came. Adele grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

  The room’s walls were covered in old cabinets with glass fronts. The curtains were open, and shafts of dust floated in the air as the sun shone in. Biting her lip like a naughty kid at school, Adele crept to the nearest cabinet, even though there was no one around.

  The cabinet held all sorts of artifacts and books, including a pile of old leather-bound tomes at one end. Adele knew which one she wanted. The cupboard door creaked and she peered back at the entrance to the room, but thankfully no one came in.

  She picked it up and placed it on the table by the window. The pages of the book were fragile and gave the impression they would crumble away in her hands.

  Adele carefully turned each page until she found the one from long ago. A spell about a magic tree that could be summoned to find your true love. The picture looked like the tree in the churchyard. Only this one didn’t have a man lying beneath it, or fairy lights dangling from its branches.

  What the hell have I done?

  Adele remembered her last time in this room—

  She’d lain in bed at home, thinking it would be good to summon the tree. Maybe it’d bring her the latest movie star she had a crush on. It didn’t happen. Just as well, because said movie star was in jail two days later for taking drugs. At sixteen, her mom wouldn’t have been too happy finding a movie star in her bed.

  That night, she had dreamed about the tree, and could remember a man walking away from it into the sunlight. She couldn’t see his face, but he was tall and dark haired—

  Adele thought back to the churchyard, today. It could only be a trick of the mind playing on an old memory. She stared at the book and read the spell. Hubert would have been furious back then if he’d known she’d practiced spells without any guidance. It hadn’t worked then, so she couldn’t imagine it would bring someone tall and sexy now.

  She closed the book and placed it back in the cup
board. What had she expected to find? Answers were still not forthcoming.

  The door behind her clicked open, and Adele jumped. Thank goodness she wasn’t holding anything like last time. Back then she’d dropped a crystal ball on the floor, and it had smashed into a thousand pieces as regretful tears flowed down her cheeks.

  Hubert stood by the door. “Adele. I didn’t know you were here. Trying to catch up on lessons you missed or are you here to destroy more of our artifacts?” Hubert wagged a finger at her as he grinned.

  “I wanted to check up on something from the past. An old spell in one of the books. It’s as I remembered.”

  At only five feet tall, Hubert had to look up at her. But his lack of height didn’t make him any less intimidating. He wore perfectly tailored suits in different colors, and his eyeglasses always perched imperiously on the end of his nose when he peered over their tortious shell frames.

  “I don’t suppose you intend to tell me which spell.”

  “No, or I’d have to kill you. It’s nothing serious, just me trying to find the perfect man. Of course, they don’t exist, apart from you.”

  “Ah, the age-old love spell. They don’t work. It would be wrong to make someone love you against their will. It only ends in pain.”

  Hubert closed the cupboard, and she followed him from the room, then downstairs to the big kitchen at the back of the house. The two of them sat drinking coffee and chatting. No one watching would know they were hunters of creatures of the night, or that the world possessed creatures so wicked. She should get home and continue her work, but it was good to relax for a bit. This house always oozed tranquility, even if Hubert was a bit eccentric.

  “So, do we know if the vampire we killed the other night was a loner, or should we be prepared for new attacks?” Adele asked.

  “Henry Rushton is on the move out of the capital. Every time the London people get close, he relocates.” Hubert shook his head. “We’ll be on the alert for the next month or so. By the way, I think Carla is ready to go out on some missions with you, if you’re willing. I’ll do her final test tomorrow.”

  “That would be fine. I can see she’s tearing at the bit to have a go.” Adele finished her coffee and stood.

  “Keep an eye on her.”

  “I always do.”

  Some students came in, and Adele hugged Hubert goodbye.

  ~ ~ ~

  At the flat she spent the next two hours working on photos from another client and emailed them off. Adele rubbed her eyes and stretched. The intercom went off, and she jumped. Hell, I need to get a grip and not be so bloody twitchy.

  Carla stood at the door with a bottle of red wine in hand. Adele smiled. “I so love you right now.”

  Perhaps the wine would take the edge off her nerves.

  “You looked tense the last time I saw you. I thought you needed to chill, so here I am. What food do you have?” Carla headed toward the kitchen and grabbed some cheese and crackers. Adele found wine glasses and poured them drinks. Reluctant to talk about the tree, she’d distract Carla instead.

  “So how did your night of wild sex go?” Adele asked, as she sipped on the wine.

  “He’s so sexy, and I have to admit I didn’t get much sleep last night. What about you, and what’s with the scar on your neck?”

  Adele touched the wound. She forgot the scarf was gone, and the cut on show.

  “We managed to kill off the vamp, but he came a bit too close. Glad to hear you had a good time, but you might want to save some of your energy.”

  “And why is that?” Carla asked as she shoved another piece of brie in her mouth and licked her fingers.

  “How you stay skinny is beyond me,” Adele muttered.

  “What?”

  “I said, you’re coming with me on some missions.”

  Carla’s eyes grew wide as she set down her glass. “Seriously?”

  “Hubert said he would test you tomorrow, and if you pass, you’re in. The council thinks the vamp wasn’t alone and wants us to do some runs around the city.”

  Carla jumped up and screamed, then gave her a big hug. “I know it’s dangerous, I can see as much from your neck. But I promise you I’m ready for this.”

  “No fighting yet, but reconnaissance to see what’s going on,” Adele cautioned. “Hubert’s willing to give you a go.” She felt Carla tremble with a mixture of excitement and fear she remembered experiencing herself once.

  “Let me know when and I’ll be ready. I promise I won’t let you down.”

  “You’d better not, or I might stipulate you can’t have sex the night before a job.” Adele wagged a finger at her.

  “Now you’re being mean. It’s not my fault you haven’t had sex in a while. I could’ve set you up with one of the models as well if you wanted to.”

  “I make a rule not to mix business with pleasure.”

  Adele’s computer pinged to show some emails coming through. Hopefully the magazine, telling her how wonderful she was. She grabbed her drink and hurried over as Carla refilled her own glass. Adele sipped her wine and read through the emails. As expected, the client was happy.

  The next email she didn’t recognize. Adele nearly dropped her glass in shock when she opened it. “What the hell?”

  Carla glanced over her shoulder. “Is that email from who I think it’s from?”

  “Holy shit. It looks that way. V.T of Saville Row wants me to do an exclusive photo shoot for them.”

  Adele’s heart beat fast as she attempted to concentrate on the words in front of her. Being a hunter was a part of her life she loved, but this was a dream come true for her photography business. V.T Men’s Wear was for the top end of town, and working for them would open so many doors.

  “It says they’ve been looking at some of my handiwork, and would like to have a meeting with me to discuss the possibility of working together.” Remember to breathe. “They’ve asked for my phone number and will be in touch soon.”

  Adele sent back her information quickly, before she panicked and chickened out, or passed out. Her stuff was good, but this was the big league. Her work could end up in Vogue or Vanity Fair with this shoot. It could make or break her.

  “Fuck, I need another drink. I’ve either done something great or made a huge mistake.”

  Carla stepped closer, hopping from one foot to another. “Look them up online. What’s the V.T stand for anyway?”

  Adele Googled the name, and some images of the shop came up, along with the clothes. The suits were smart, but there was also a more kitschy, playful side to some of the designs. V.T liked hats too. Hats could be difficult with photo shoots, throwing shadows over the models’ faces.

  And here she was, thinking she already had the job. Her stomach fluttered with excitement.

  Wikipedia said the V.T stood for Vincent Blake and Tristan Bowers. There were lots of images of the two men attending high-society London parties. The sort of parties Adele was never invited to.

  As a photographer, she studied their looks. They were both handsome; no doubt about that. Vincent was dark and Tristan, fair. Others who stood near them in pictures appeared shorter, so she guessed the two men were easily over six feet tall. Their faces were angular and defined. If they didn’t own the business, these two could have easily passed for models. She placed their ages at about thirty.

  “I’ll probably get an email from their Human Resources department saying it’s all been a big mistake, but for now I intend to lap it up.”

  “I prefer a blond guy, so you can have Vincent, and I’ll go for the Tristan dude.”

  “So you’ve forgotten Xavier already. So fickle, Carla.” Adele cracked up.

  “These guys are rich and sexy. I could do with rich. You pay me well, but I like expensive shit, as you know.”


  “It's work they want me for, and don’t you forget it. These two probably have a bevy of beauties after them already.”

  After finishing off the bottle of wine, Adele retired for the night while Carla crashed on the pull-out sofa. In bed with her laptop, Adele clicked on a site showing V.T of Saville Row, and its owners.

  She couldn’t sleep for the anticipation. What if she wasn’t good enough? This Vincent was handsome. A bit like a Mr. Darcy of old. The truth was she probably would never meet the owners, even if she did get the job. Carla might be a long time waiting to get a date with Tristan. Adele closed her laptop and smiled. She would phone Mom and Dad in the morning and tell them the news.

  ~ ~ ~

  The next morning, Adele needed a cold shower after her dream. That would teach her to Google handsome men before bed. Especially after having drunk half a bottle of red wine. She’d been having sex in her dream with the hunky Vincent of V.T . . .

  If she ever met him in real life, she’d go beet red from the neck up.

  Her phone rang as she came out of the shower. It was only nine, and Carla was here. It might be about another attack. She didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello. Adele here.” No one answered for a moment. She’d been getting a few prank calls recently. It was probably stupid high school kids. More silence. “If this is a crank call, I’ll be sending your number to the cops.” She was about to hang up as someone spoke.

  “Hello. It’s Vincent Blake. My staff sent on your email this morning. I hope it’s not too early to call, and I’m not interrupting you.”

  The sound of his deep voice made her stomach flutter with excitement. Her breath caught in her throat, and she suddenly felt tongue-tied. Could this guy actually be calling her or was she still dreaming?