by Tara Brown
When I open my eyes, Dorian is giving me a disturbed grin. “Rodeo?”
“You know what I mean. He’s been avoiding you with magic for five hundred years. This isn’t the first time he’s outsmarted you and the others.”
“But how do you know that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know how. I just do.”
His gaze narrows as his lips play with a grin, maybe trying to hide it. “You let him feed from you!”
My lips part, desperate for a lie to absolve myself of the lies, but they remain there, behind my eyes.
“That's how he’s able to toy with your brain. You let him in once already.”
My gaze lowers to the old wooden floor. I don't actually have a defense for the act. I was desperately trying to save the witches and free myself.
“So he and the witch came here, set traps for us to walk into, and now he’s moved on to the next place to set more? Hoping we will get caught up in a trail of bullshit and nonsense?”
I nod.
“Then where is the last place he would go?”
“Home.”
Dorian’s eyes light up. “Bloody hell, you’re right. He’ll have us all knackered from running about when he’s sitting at home, preparing for the eventual assault on the place.” He grabs my hand and suddenly we’re outside. I shudder as he takes off again. We land and wink away three times until we find Gwen and Landry, making out against a wall.
I cover Dorian’s eyes and drag him backward. We stay behind the wall of the building next to us. He pulls my hands down from his eyes. “I take it they found a trap?”
“Or they just decided to make out. I think he likes her a lot.”
His dark eyes glisten in the moonlight. “What’s not to like? She’s beautiful, sweet, and she can’t murder you with a kiss.”
My jaw drops.
He smiles wider and leans against the wall. “How long should we give them?”
“How long would you need?”
“Hours!” He winks but doesn't travel.
I scoff. “Right. I’m going to bet fifteen minutes and that's being generous.”
“I’m an angel. I’m made to be perfect, at everything.”
“Mmmhmmm.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “You don't believe me?”
“No.”
“Have you ever been with an angel?”
“I’ve been with men, y’all are the same.” It’s a lie but I don't care. I don't want to talk about how I’m dangerous and evil and blah, blah, blah.
“If you promise not to electrocute me, I’d be happy to show you how wrong you are.”
I hold a hand up between us. “Pass, but thanks for the offer.”
“You don't know what you’re missing.”
“Ditto.” I grin.
He leans into the wall and shouts, “Shut it down, Landry. We have a date with destiny.”
“Tact. Have you ever heard of the word?” I wince, imagining how embarrassed they both must be.
Dorian sighs. “I don't have time for tact. I’m a busy bloke.” He leans over to me and takes a deep inhale, whispering, “I saw everything that happened in that room. I was in the dream too. Pretty sure you owe me for that level of teasing.” He shoves off the wall, leaving me there with my insides suddenly churning.
Chapter 8
We trek across the field, watching the castle come into sight.
“We really had to travel this far from the castle and walk up?”
Gwen nods. “They won’t expect it if they have new witches. They will have barriers.”
I ignore them as I walk, sensing everything. I don't feel a spell until we are in the forest on the left-hand side of the castle. It’s only a hundred feet from the walls. I stop dead in my tracks, feeling the air thicken just ahead of me. It sparkles with life. “Stop!”
I lift my fingers, pressing them against the wall of magic.
“She’s strong, whoever she is.” The barrier is thick. The second we enter she’ll know. I test the magic, letting it fill me. The ancients inside me run their fingers across it too, using my hands for their own. Ideas form in my mind. One stands out. I lean forward, sucking the magic into me, making it my own. Then I turn to Dorian and grab his face, planting my lips on his. He doesn’t struggle. He lets the magic fill him. I can feel it mixing with him. His fingers grip as memories wash through us both. I let go before I start moaning and climbing him like a tree. He sparkles a little with magical energy.
“Put your hand into the wall, just here. If the magic doesn't change, she won’t feel the interruption in the barrier. You should be one with the magic she used.” I hold my neck out for Gwen. She licks her lips. “I had witch once, Lorelei. I swore I’d never have it again.”
I understand and grab her face, kissing her the way I did Dorian. He mutters, “Now this is what I’m taking about.” Her lips are soft and sweet, just like they look.
She pulls back and nods. “It’s tingly.”
I am dreading the last kiss. I lean into the wall and draw more of the magic, turning and closing my eyes as Landry’s firm lips meet mine. Flashes of his thoughts fill my mind. He really doesn't like me.
We turn and face the forest and the invisible wall. When we step into the barrier, the magic doesn't ripple at all. We are completely at one with it. She shouldn't feel us. I almost thank the voices in my head, almost. The idea was clever, even if it wasn't mine.
When we get to the basement door Gwen walks ahead, opening it slowly. She puts a finger to her lips. We creep inside, into the dark. The overwhelming presence of the dead witches is gone. No one lingers about like before.
I fight the urge to snap my fingers and let the sparks play; she might be able to sense my magic, like Momma’s ghost. When we get to a long staircase Gwen whispers, “This will take us to the main hall. The witches are usually kept below in the dungeons.” Her cheeks redden as she presses her lips for a moment. “The one they have must be upstairs if they’re using her for magic and blood. Just remember if they’re drinking from her, they’ll have some of her powers. I’m the only one who has no magical ability.”
I nod, wondering how often Whit exploited that from me.
My heart aches, regardless of not working properly.
Dorian pats me on the back. “Luckily we have our own special brand of evil.”
Gwen scowls at him before giving me a headshake. “I’m sure there is a compliment in there somewhere.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don't be like that, love.” Dorian rubs my back. I roll my eyes at Gwen and walk past her, slipping up the staircase silently. Everything in my life has become dark hallways and dense forests and creepy dead things. I just want to be normal and lie in the heat somewhere with the sun beating down on me. That's a dream now but it’s a good one.
When I get to the top of the stairs, I touch the doorknob. Nothing moves beyond it. There is no sound or feeling that a regular person would get. I open the door, stepping out into the hall. It’s dimly lit and completely empty.
The house feels empty except for the whispering wind.
I take a step forward, seeing a mirror in the hall. The hairs on my arms stand on end and I spin to shout the warning that something is wrong. But I’m too late. Whatever it is that's here, has me. Everything goes completely dark and I’m falling.
I don't land though. I just fall in the blackness, almost floating. I don't know if hours pass or days or seconds. I struggle to get out of it, but it’s liquid all around me, smothering me.
Suddenly, I’m standing with my nose pressed against something wooden. I press my hands against it, feeling the wood everywhere in front of me. I push on it but it doesn't budge. I scratch at it but nothing. I punch and hit but I can’t get much swing. There isn’t room. Wood surrounds me—front, back, side, and side.
I scream but my voice is raw and comes out hoarse.
There is nothing. I am in a box, trapped and lost. No noises outside the box and no way out.
/> I close my eyes, imagining the box is gone but my magic feels like it’s on the other side. It’s near but I can’t reach it.
“HELP ME!” I cry out but no one comes and nothing moves.
I don't know how much time has passed or if I fell asleep or not, but one second I am alone in the box and the next it opens on a hinge as a door might. Marcus smiles at me from the other side and opens it wider. “How are you?” he asks as though I’ve just rung the bell at his front door.
I stumble out of the box, my legs collapsing. He chuckles and lifts me up. I try to zap him but nothing happens.
I am impotent.
I am weak and vulnerable.
There is nothing left of my magic.
I swear I can hear it screaming for me on the other side of the room or above me like it’s everywhere but it’s nowhere at the same time.
Marcus carries me to a bed, lays me down, and takes a seat next to me. “You must be exhausted.”
I have to find my friends. I start to cry. Perhaps it’s from the loss of magic or being separated from everyone or being trapped in the box, or all three. Whatever it is, I lose myself and my senses, sobbing uncontrollably.
He is an odd man. He hugs me to him and lets me cry.
Everything goes dark again.
I wake with a start, not realizing I’ve fallen asleep. I leap across the room, slamming my back into a wall and readying for whatever violence they have planned for me.
But there is no one.
I am completely alone and in a very nice room, one I haven’t seen before. It’s plush and decorated like an Elizabethan bedroom. It’s got to be in the castle, a room I hadn’t seen perhaps.
I can’t help but wonder if Marcus was real or a vision.
A woman comes in with a tray of food. She closes the door and locks it. I never noticed the door before this moment. It’s creepy the way it’s so black and shiny like a strange sort of stone. The woman gives me a soft smile. “I’ve brought you some food.” She sets the tray down and then tilts her head to the side. She is an innocent.
“The food is enough.”
She frowns. “I give you my whole permission to drink from me. I know you won’t kill me. I don't mind. You’ll need your strength.”
Those words seal it for me. “I’d rather die.”
She shrugs and leaves the room, locking me in again. I walk to the door. A painful buzzing sound grows louder the closer I get to it. When I am a foot away my head feels like it might explode, but I push on until I reach the door. When I touch it, a blast of something hits my hand, sending me sailing backward onto the floor.
I turn and drag myself back to the bed.
I don't want to eat but the food looks delicious. Sausage, eggs, bacon, and waffles smothered in whipped cream and strawberries.
It smells like heaven, regardless of being in hell.
My face is covered in food and my stomach is expanding beyond my slacks when I take the last bite of bacon and moan into the glass of orange juice. The food and drink puts me into a food coma. I curl into the sheets and close my eyes again, listening for sounds and desperately trying to reach the voices in my head.
When I wake there is a plate of grilled cheese and fries. My stomach groans and I realize I’m starving again.
The lock on the door clicks and Marcus comes strolling in, once again smiling and cheery, for an evil bastard. He sits on the chair across from the bed and nods. “Hungry again?”
I narrow my gaze. “This feels an awful lot like Hansel and Gretel.”
“I’m afraid I don't recall the reference.”
“You’re fattening me up to eat me.”
He chuckles. “Then, yes, it is. Although I dare say, I hope you don't get fat. I’m not fond of larger women. I’m not picky either, but stamina is an important feature in a girl.”
“Where are my friends?” I pick at the fries, hating that I’m starving and a plate full of carbs feels like the right kind of comfort food.
“I don't know. I heard once that your mother starved you. Always trying to whittle you down from voluptuous to skin and bone.”
I put the fry down.
His brow furrows. “I didn't mean to offend you. I just can’t believe someone would see you and think you need to lose weight. You are perfect. That's all I meant.”
He’s being too nice, while being part of holding me hostage.
It makes me uncomfortable.
He gets up and walks to me, perhaps sensing my discomfort in discussing my size. He drops to a knee in front of me and lifts my hand, kissing and inhaling at the same time. “Would you fancy a bath and some clean clothes?”
“Yes, please. And maybe an explanation would be nice.”
“I will have Leah bring you a change of clothes.” He turns and leaves the room, locking the shiny black door again.
I look out the windows, noticing for the first time that they are black, like the door, but it’s on the other side of a pane of glass. I am surrounded by some kind of evil glass.
Before I get up I eye the plate of food, hating that I still do it, and scarf it back. I eat like Momma has been starving me for an event and it’s finally over. It’s so good. I can taste the real butter on the bread and the cheese is the good stuff. I’m sweating and cramping up as I stagger back into the bathroom, stopping, stunned at what I see. It’s incredible. The room has a huge tub that could easily fit me and Em in it, even now. It has a large shower, filled with different types of shampoos and conditioners and body bars.
As nice as these ones are, hair products are one the things about being back in 1960s that really sucks. I strip down, rubbing my food belly, and climb into the bathroom to start the process to feeling human again. As human as I can feel.
Chapter 9
His idea of clothing is a joke. The nightdress he left for me is something I saw last on the ghosts in the castle. Which doesn't make me feel very comfortable.
My clothes vanished while I was in the shower and I have nothing but a wet bath sheet and my bed to cover up with. I pull on the ridiculous thing and hurry back to bed.
A baron of beef sandwich, with dip, is sitting there in all its glory. I savor the smell of the rare meat and dipping jus. I don't even check to see if I’m hungry, I eat. When I take my first bite I moan and savor the flavor of it all. Captivity makes me hungry, like how Momma used to. Emotional eating is my thing.
Marcus comes in as I take my last bite, washing it down with a large lime spritzer of sorts. I sit back and wipe my face, all the while hugging the blankets to myself.
“Are you feeling better yet?”
“Where is everyone else?”
He shrugs. “I try not to get too involved in the Roses Academy business. They’re like having a pet—they die far too young. It’s a type of heartbreak I prefer to live without.” He sits on the bed, eyeing up the blankets around my neck. “I was hoping you might be well enough to let me have a small taste again.”
I shake my head.
“I will have it, Lorelei.” He nods. “I will have you.” He gets up again and sits in the chair across the room. He closes his eyes like he’s going to nap in here.
“Where am I? Is this still the castle?” I puzzle for a moment. “Why are you staying here?”
“The thing I love the most about the gift you gave me,” he ignores me and pauses, inhaling slowly, maybe smiling at the sentence he has yet to murmur, “I remember everything. I remember the good, the bad, and the ugly. One thing I particularly liked about hanging with the Roses Academy was the research I was able to do.” He makes me even more nervous with the devilish smile that crosses his lips as he leans forward and blinks innocently. “You wouldn't believe the tinctures I came up with.”
I inch away slowly, pulling the covers even tighter to me, but something happens to the grip I have on the blankets. His wicked smirk is the last thing I recall as my eyes flutter and fade to total darkness.
When I wake my head is pounding. I try to move m
y hand to rub my eyes but it doesn't move. I gape up at it, reaching for the bedpost behind me. A silver cuff is on my arm. I turn the other way, gasping when I see the other hand is cuffed. My legs don't respond to my tugging either. My head is so heavy I can’t look past my body to check if my feet are cuffed, but I can guess the answer to the question.
I take deep breaths, willing my mind to calm.
The room spins and my heavy lids try to close again, but I refuse them that. I refuse to let the darkness take me. I’m tired of all the darkness. The door opens, and I manage to turn my head, glimpsing a face I don't expect. Whit smiles sheepishly, like his boyish grin will do anything for the amount of hate that seethes through me, although I can’t reach it.
He closes the door and walks across the room to sit on the bed next to me. I sense his warmth touching me. “Are you all right?”
“Get the hell outta here and leave me the heck alone.” The words are mumbled and slurred. I don't love cussing but he has worked my last nerve.
“I just want us to be friends again, Lorelei.”
“I never thought we were friends, asshole,” I groan, trying to wriggle my body, desperate to reach even a drop of my magic.
He leans forward, pressing his lips against my struggling cheek. The strength of his face it too much. I can’t get away from the warmth of his lips. I scream, raging in desperation.
He whispers as his fingers bite into my arm. “I wish you could love me again. Love me as I am.”
“Well, Whit, let me tell you the thing Ramón always told me, before you murdered him mercilessly. Put that wish in one hand and take a crap in the other and see which one fills up first.” I shake my head, laughing like a madwoman. I’m actually afraid I’ve lost my mind. I cannot believe I said that aloud.
He doesn't laugh. He frowns like he’s doing the math on that one, making me laugh harder. Tears fill my eyes as I lose my mind.
He grips my face with one hand and my arm with the other. He smiles cruelly. “Laugh it up, but you’re our new buffet.”