Mother May I (Knight Games Book 4)

by Genevieve Jack

  “Not now, but according to my grimoire I could at one time.”

  “Whoa.”

  I had so much to learn about being a witch. “The power of the book came from hell, which means it may have been a demon or the big bad himself who gave Rick his power.”

  Logan sat up, eyebrows knit. “Wait. Your job is to send evil supernatural beings back to hell. Your cemetery is basically a containment cell for escapees from hell. Why would a being from hell help you or Rick?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s possible the demon did not intend to help Rick. I might have set a magical booby trap that drew on the demon’s power without its knowledge. It’s the only explanation. Hecate guards the door to the underworld. I help her do that. No one gets in or out without her permission. I can’t fathom why a demon or the Devil would want to strengthen the gatekeepers.”

  “If it was a trap, how do we lure a demon into it again?”

  I shook my head. “No idea. Replicated demon magic is well out of my realm of experience.”

  “Which means you can’t fix Rick.” Logan took unreasonable interest in his shoes.

  “And we need to find two witches, not one. Rick won’t work as the earth element in the spell.”

  “Fuck.”

  “I know.” I looked at my watch, feeling overwhelmed. “Get some rest. It could get ugly tonight.”

  “Do or die,” he said through a forced smile.

  “You don’t have to come,” I said seriously. “In fact, now that we know about Rick, there’s no reason for you to stay. You could go back.”

  He shook his head and laughed through his nose. “Shut up, Grateful. Go sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Mildly offended, I slipped out the door and made the short walk down the outdoor corridor to the room I shared with Rick. He was already in bed, eyes closed, although I could tell he was awake. The blankets were pulled halfway up his bare chest. As exhausted as I was, I yearned to explore everything under the covers.

  “Then do it,” he said before opening his eyes. He flashed a mischievous grin.

  I blushed. “I’m exhausted, and I desperately need a shower.” I tangled my fingers together in front of my hips. I needed to tell him he wouldn’t work in the spell but was worried how he’d take the news.

  “I know,” he said, face falling. “Since we made love, I hear everything in your head.”

  “So, you know that I might not be able to restore your magic.”

  “And as a result there is likely no hope of restoring my memory.” He cradled his head in the web of his fingers and stared at the ceiling.

  I bit my lower lip. “I’m sorry.” I searched our connection, but his feelings were a senseless jumble. I took a step toward the bed.

  All at once, he sat up and tossed the covers back, revealing that he was, in fact, naked. My mind went blank, and all my blood rushed south.

  “I don’t need my memory to know that I want you,” Rick said, approaching me with slow, even steps. “I don’t need to remember how we got here for me to know that I made the journey. What we have is true.” He reached out and cradled my face in his hands. “I don’t need the past to know I want a future with you. I’m falling in love with you, Grateful, and it has nothing to do with who you were and everything to do with who we are.”

  Beguiled, I tried to reciprocate the sentiment but failed. All I could do was part my lips and give a sweet-Jesus-this-can’t-be-happening sigh. His thumb caressed my bottom lip, his eyes fixed on my mouth. He was close enough for me to feel the heat from his body, and I became aware my chest was rising and falling faster than normal. “I love you,” I finally said, breathless. “I’ve always loved you.”

  I fell into him, meeting his lips with my own. His weight pitched into me, and it was the most natural thing to let him back me against the wall, hard. His hand and my back took the brunt of the impact. I hitched one leg over his hip, and he ground into me, the length of him pressing into my jeans.

  Rick grabbed my wrists and thrust my hands above my head. My shirt and bra were off and tossed to the floor in a heartbeat. His mouth trailed down my neck to worship one breast, and the backs of his knuckles grazed my belly on his way to the button of my jeans. I lowered my leg and shimmied my pants off, kicking them aside. I panted between kisses, my arms tangled around Rick’s neck and head as if I could wrap myself completely around him. The need was undeniable. A hunger, an itch I had to scratch, had settled at my core and would not be denied.

  Elbows braced on his shoulders, I wrapped one leg over his hip and climbed his body. He balanced my movement like it was choreographed, gripping me under the ass and entering me. Both feet off the floor and pressed into him in every possible way, my back hit the wall again as he began to thrust in earnest. I groaned, absorbing the impact with abandon.

  A piece of drywall came free and fell across my shoulder. “Rick,” I whispered. He didn’t miss a beat. Pivoting, he carried me to the edge of the bed and lowered me to the mattress. He coaxed one of my legs to his shoulder and I gasped as he drove deeper. Arching my back, I supported myself on my elbows. He took the opportunity to graze my nipple with his teeth.

  I came unglued, shattering around him and taking everything he had to give. When I came back to earth, I gathered my hair into one hand to expose my neck. I didn’t have to coax him this time, or help him control the beast. He struck and he drank. The process was painless and required no help at all from me. When he was sated, he kissed me gently on the chin, the cheek, the eyelid.

  “You should sleep,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.”

  “You’re right,” I said but held him to me when he tried to retreat. A slow, languid smile stretched across my face. “But first, a shower?”

  “Allow me to assist,” he said. He swept me into his arms and carried me to the bathroom.

  Chapter 23

  Pie

  I was still sleeping off the effects of Rick’s studious and methodical washing techniques when Poe and Hildegard returned with the news we’d been waiting for. The water witch lived in a log cabin along the river, and she was indeed new. Poe had seen her chopping wood the human way, presumably for a fire. He estimated her age in the early twenties, although it was hard to tell with witches. Magic kept us young. Even my half-sister Polina, who I estimated to be more than one hundred years old based on the age of the magic mirror she made for me, looked no more than twenty-five on her worst day. Still, I hoped the water witch was both young and inexperienced. We needed all the help we could get.

  Once Julius was awake, we drove to a nearby patch of forest and climbed to the top of a hill overlooking the river. “Her name is Elana Woodsworth,” Poe said.

  “How’d you find that bit out?” Polina asked.

  “Open mailbox,” he said. “I wasn’t going to get close to the woman while she was holding an ax.”

  I watched the curl of smoke rise into the night from her stone chimney. The rush of water down the river beyond acted as a reminder that although Elana was new, any witch was dangerous.

  With his hands tucked in his back pockets, Logan asked, “What’s the plan? Do we just knock on the door, or what?”

  “Polina and I will go alone.” I took Polina’s hand. “We’ll convince her that we’re looking to form a coven, a support group for witches. I’m new and I reached out to Polina for mentorship, but we thought adding a third would be even better.”

  “You think she’ll go for it? Witches strike me as keep-to-themselves types,” Logan said.

  I rubbed my chin and looked questioningly at Polina.

  It was Rick who answered. “You should bring her something. Something to relax her to the idea.” His voice was soft and confident, just for me. My own personal muse.

  Julius seemed to sense our new connection and grimaced but agreed. “A spell to bind her, perhaps,” he said with a hint of pain.

  “A gift to open her mind to the possibilities.” I plucked Tabetha’s wand from i
ts place next to Nightshade and with a quick flourish sent an intention into the ground. I was feeling strong thanks to my nap and my morning with Rick. From the point where my spell hit the earth, a bright green sprout shot from the dirt and climbed toward the moon. It branched and twisted, covering itself with leaves. Light swirled around the trunk and the shimmer of a spell colored the bark. The ends of the branches blossomed and faded, and then bulbous growths formed, growing ripe and heavy. An apple tree. The bright red fruit seemed to pulse with energy. I picked one and held it out between us. “Slightly intoxicating to lower her inhibitions,” I murmured.

  “Perfect,” Polina said. “And something from me.” She drew her wand and pointed it at a nearby stone. The rock shattered, and I shielded my eyes with my arm to protect myself from the debris. When the dust settled, a beautiful silver bowl sat in the stone’s place. As thin as a spider’s web, silver spirals bent into a hollow bowl perfect for the fruit I’d created. I pitched the apple into its center and picked a few more, each one more perfect than the one before.

  “Come on.” I picked up the bowl.

  “Should we join you?” Poe asked, snuggled next to Hildegard on a branch of the apple tree.

  “No. All of you stay here. If we run into trouble, I’ll call Rick, and he’ll tell you we need back up.”

  Julius flashed a bit of fang. “Of course. We wait for the gravedigger to tell us what to do.”

  “Not now, Julius,” I snapped.

  He hissed softly but backed off.

  “You can do this, mi cielo,” Rick said, and I felt like my heart might explode. Mi cielo, my sky. His name for me was back.

  Logan crossed his arms. “Okay. Okay. Get going. We’re here if you need us.”

  Bowl in hand, we descended to the small yard that surrounded the cabin and walked up to the door, the long, flowing shirt I’d worn billowing at the waist with my movement. Logan had been kind enough to buy Polina and me a few things from a local shop. We’d settled on modern witchy wear, bell-sleeved roomy tops over blue jeans. I liked it, but Polina missed her usual dresses.

  When we reached the door, Polina knocked, and I cradled the bowl in front of me with a practiced smile. The door didn’t open. Polina knocked again. Nothing.

  “Elana?” I whispered.

  The door creaked open to reveal a mousy young woman, all skin and bones and ashy brown hair. “Can I help you?”

  Polina smiled sweetly. “No, but we can help you. We heard you were… new and came to offer our support and friendship.”

  I extended the bowl.

  Elana sighed deeply and accepted my gift. “Come on in.”

  We entered a cozy room, Little House on the Prairie meets Frank Lloyd Wright. A fire blazed in the fireplace. Elana placed the bowl at the center of a large pine table and motioned for us to sit down. “I’ve had a feeling something was gonna happen all day.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, a tightness in my stomach. I thought it might mean something bad was coming, but I think it meant you. I’m not good at interpreting witchy intuition yet. Like now, I sense magic in you; it’s like the smell of strong perfume. But I can’t tell anything more than that.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind one of her ears. “You must be used to that, but it’s new to me. All of this is new to me.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” I said, placing my hand on hers. “I’ve been a witch for less than a year. Polina’s been my mentor and has made a world of difference to me. I told her I wanted to pay it forward and help someone else. When we heard about you, it just seemed like the right thing to do to reach out.”

  She filled her cheeks with air and blew it out. “You’re relatively new also? It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? I mean, I almost drowned yesterday using my spell book to try to summon a piece of pie.”

  “Pie?” I looked at her questioningly.

  “Yes, pie. I was sitting here alone, feeling sorry for myself for being called into this position, when it occurred to me, what good was having power if I couldn’t do something useful with it? So I decided to conjure some pie. Well, I followed the spell in my grimoire to the letter, but no pie. The damn ocean poured out of the pages. It was all I could do to cast it back into the book before the water covered my head.”

  Polina laughed, then caught herself. “We’ve all been there.”

  “Sure,” I said. “You don’t have to do this alone. You can join our coven. We’ll help you learn.”

  A small smile lifted the corners of Elana’s mouth. “I’m so rude. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No,” Polina said. “But if you have a knife, I’d love to split one of these with you.” She pitched one of the apples into the air and caught it.

  Elana nodded. “Sure do.” She strode out of the room, into what I assumed was the kitchen, although I couldn’t see it from where we were sitting. “Actually, I have something to ask you about already,” she called to us. “If you’re up for answering my questions.”

  “That’s what we’re here for,” I called back. Don’t eat that, I mouthed to Polina. She tilted her head as if to say, I won’t, duh.

  “I’ve had this dream the last couple of nights, and I can’t figure out what it means. These silver people are shooting arrows at me. I try to fight them, but my power doesn’t respond. It’s horrifying.”

  “What kind of silver people?”

  “Tall, pale people, with silver hair and pointy ears. I never know in my dream why they want me dead. They just do.” She returned to the room with a cutting board and a chef’s knife. “What do you think it means?”

  I glanced at Polina. What did it mean? “Uh, hmm. Polina, maybe you should take this one.” I selected an apple from the basket and handed it to Elana to slice.

  “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” she said. “Just your brain working out your new role.”

  She sliced into the fruit, the firm flesh parting with a snap. “I’ve been policing my ward, but I’ve never seen silver people like that before, not even in my human visions.”

  “You had visions when you were human?” I prompted, picking up a slice from the cutting board.

  “All my life. Even before I was a witch, I could see the future. Well, sometimes.” She picked up one of the slices and brought it to her lips, but paused before taking a bite. “Do you know what the silver creatures are called?” She bit, chewing the apple and swallowing.

  “Goblins.”

  The wind picked up outside and rattled the windows. I turned toward the glass but could only see my reflection against the backdrop of night on the other side.

  “I’ve never run into a goblin,” Elana said. “Are they hard to sentence?”

  “The hardest,” Polina said, distracted by the same window I was. “They’re fast and their blood is poison to witches. It’s best to kill them from a distance if you can. I wouldn’t even bother attempting to sentence one. Too dangerous to be that close. Of course, distance isn’t safe either. They are excellent archers.”

  “I’ll remember that if my vision becomes a reality. Thanks.” She popped another slice of apple and hiccupped loudly. With a giggle, she placed a hand over her mouth. “Excuse me. Hiccups.” She hiccupped again. “I should get some water.”

  She strode out of the room again.

  “So, Elana,” I called, “there is a spell that we developed to inaugurate new members into our coven. It’s a simple spell meant to bind our friendship. Will you take part in it?”

  “Of course! Do you want to do it here? I have a spell room in the basement.”

  A very wet basement surrounded by water, I thought. “It’s kind of you to offer, but there’s one more type of witch we want to invite before we do it. An earth witch.”

  “Oh, you mean Salome.” Elana returned with a glass of water in her hand, hiccupping again despite it.

  I shook my head. “Who’s Salome?”

  “The earth witch who was here yesterday. She’s new too. Well, a couple
of months. She came by to say hello and offer her protection. Put some wards around the house for me. It’s how I knew I could trust you. You wouldn’t have been able to step over the threshold if you meant me ill will. At least, that’s how Salome told me it worked.”

  Alarmed, I turned toward Polina. Who was this witch? As much as I wanted to believe she had Elana’s best interests at heart, I was skeptical. However, we needed her and her element. Perhaps Elana had a way to reach her.

  “Did Salome give you a way to reach her? We could use her expertise in our coven.”

  “Hmm. She said she was staying with her friend at the lodge up river. She’s originally from the East Coast. Rhode Island, I think. I could be wrong though. It’s strange; her visit is a blur. I’d forgotten all about it until just now.”

  Until another witch messed with your brain and triggered a memory, I thought.

  I stood up. “Understandable. You’ve had so much going on.”

  “Are you going?” she asked.

  “We all are,” I said. “Let’s go find Salome and talk her into joining us. Then we can perform the bonding spell. I’m so excited about our new coven.”

  “Me too,” she said. “Let me get my shoes.” She left in the opposite direction as the kitchen.

  Polina grabbed my arm roughly. “What are you thinking bringing her with us? You know as well as I do that this witch Salome is probably up to something.”

  “We can’t leave her here. She could change her mind about joining us. We need to end this while she has the fruit in her system. If she comes with, we can perform the spell as soon as we take Salome down. I mean, if it comes to that.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said.

  Elana returned, Birkenstocks buckled onto her feet. “Everyone ready to go?”

  We nodded and followed her to the door. She was so upbeat and trusting it almost made me tired. “You know, I have that feeling again in the pit of my stomach like something is about to happen. The same feeling I had before you came. Isn’t that weird?”

  “Yeah. Weird,” I said.

  Elana shrugged and opened the door.