Another breath found its way into her lungs, blowing them up like a balloon that was too full, but it was necessary. She needed more. She concentrated on making that happen while a crisscrossing of voices mingled around her.
“She’ll be alright now,” one assured.
“She’d better be,” another threatened.
“The worst is over,” a third added.
For some reason she expected there should be a fourth, but the first began again. “Be wary. She’ll be ill-equipped to use her powers, and mayhap they’ll manifest involuntarily.”
The fourth voice finally spoke. “Just fucking great.” This voice sounded farther away than the others hovering directly over her.
“Bring her back here in one month’s time, and I’ll learn her best I can.”
Pause. Breath…
A scuffling sounded along the floor moved away from her, then returned in the same manner.
“What is that?” The second voice sounded alarmed now. “No more of your spells! She’s had enough.”
“This’ll sooth. Bring sleep. Dull the pain.”
Yes, she thought. Dull the pain…no more pain.
She must have verbalized the last, because those around her went quiet.
There was a deep sigh. “Okay, love. The old…uh…Ms. Windshaw is going to give you something else to drink. Do you think you can swallow?”
“No more pain,” she pleaded in answer, her eyelids still too heavy to open. A tear tracked down her cheek.
“This had better work.” Dark implication surrounded the phrase.
Something cool touched her lips. Liquid filled her mouth. She choked as it slid down her throat, her body instinctually rejecting it. Someone ordered her to swallow. She did. And, as the pain melted away, so did the rest of her.
Mace watched with staggering anxiety as Cora went slack. The fact that she still breathed kept his murderous tendencies in check. Knox was smart enough to stand out of the way, taking up the farthest corner of the room. The two witches appeared wary, but not as fearful of him as they should be. For a brief moment as Cora had writhed with agony on the floor, he’d suspected them all of plotting to murder her, and he’d been ready to end the lot.
“You should have warned me that would happen.” Mace glared at the old woman.
“Warned the girl, weren’t yer ears open? ’Sides, didn’t know it would be so bad,” Ms. Windshaw countered. “Put the gun away.”
Mace looked at his hand. At some point he must have slipped the gun from its holster. He replaced it and then gathered Cora in his arms. “What do you mean you didn’t know?”
“No spell works the same for every witch. Bindings especially. This one was particularly strong. Cast by her mother, I hear.” The old woman looked at Cora thoughtfully. Under her breath, she muttered, “Tough life, this one. Powerful as she be, I don’t envy her.” The old witch sobered. “She’ll be needin’ you. Don’t turn yer back on her.”
“I would never turn away from her. She’s mine,” Mace replied. His tone brokered no debate.
The old woman appeared unconvinced. “For now. Not always.”
That sent a chill crawling down Mason’s spine. Violent denial squashed it. “Learn when to hold your tongue, old woman, or someone might hold it for you.”
“Got plenty more in the back.”
From behind, Knox released a deep chuckle.
Mace ignored him, keeping his focus on the witch. “Before I leave here, you’ll remove that spell you placed on me.”
Her wrinkly features became stern. “Won’t be removin’ nothing. Get back to your cottage and let the girl rest. And let that cat in. She’ll be needing it, too.”
“Cat?”
Knox took a menacing step forward. “How do you know about the cottage?”
Ignoring them both, the old woman turned and disappeared into the back room. Mace rushed after her, holding Cora steady as he went, but when he crossed into the other room, he found it empty. A sharp sulfur scent lingered in the air.
Returning to the front, Saraphine just shrugged at him, slanting wary glances toward Knox. He hadn’t budged from his spot, but his narrowed gaze was fixed on her.
“Knox, go outside,” Mace ordered.
Surprisingly, Knox didn’t argue as he headed for the door.
“See you around, Saraphine,” he muttered on his way out.
Saraphine turned pale, the color starker than ever against her black makeup.
He was going to have to keep a closer eye on Knox.
* * *
Cora soared on the fringe of consciousness and mentally slapped herself awake. When she opened her eyes, she expected to see the ceiling of Wicked Wares, not yet realizing that the padding at her back was far too soft to be the wooden floor.
Something dark hovered overhead, blocking her vision. A misty grey apparition? She blinked, and it vanished. Must have been the grit in her eyes.
A constant vibration down the length of her chest drew her attention. A small grey fluff-ball of a kitten, ears too big for its body, lifted its tiny head and peeked at her with wide green eyes. When she met its gaze, it let out a half meow, half yawn, revealing miniature teeth. At the same time, little paws stretched out, exposing sharp claws before retracting.
“Well, hello there,” she cooed.
The bed shifted, and she quickly rationalized that she was back in her room at the cottage, and that Mace was lying next to her.
“Cora?” He propped up on his elbow. “How are you feeling?”
She surveyed her body. “Good. Where did this little guy come from?”
“Found it scratching at the door when we returned. I gather it belongs to you.”
Cora stroked a hand down its silky spine. When she brought her hand closer to its ears, the kitten nuzzled its entire head into her palm. “What makes you think it belongs to me?”
“Nipped at my heels as I carried you up here and hasn’t left its makeshift nest since.”
“Since when?”
“We returned yesterday. You’ve been out nearly a whole day.”
“Is Knox still here?”
Mace scowled. “Yes. He denies having threatened Saraphine.”
Cora snorted and rolled her eyes.
“I know. I’ll figure out how to deal with him later. For now, I must apologize to you.”
Her brow furrowed. “For what?”
“I’ve been neglecting your needs too long. You must eat.”
She focused on the state of her stomach. “I’m still not really hungry.”
“Even so, you’ve been losing weight. You were much too light in my arms. Before we left town yesterday, we picked up some produce for you. It’s in the kitchen.”
“You and Knox went to the market together?” Cora couldn’t help but smile at the image.
“Hardly. I sent Knox while I kept watch over you in the back seat of the car.”
“And he was okay with that? Getting me food, I mean.”
“I wouldn’t say he was happy about it, but the gun in my hand was fairly persuasive.”
“You sure the food isn’t poisoned?”
“It’s not. I tested it.”
“You tested it? How?” Don’t tell me—
“By eating some of it, of course.”
“What?” She shot up, displacing the little kitten to her lap. The only protest came in the form of a surprised murrow? “What if it had been poisoned?”
He cupped his hand over her cheek. His lips pressed lightly to hers for a split second of bliss before he pulled back. “Then I would have hurt for a time, I suppose. But nothing like what I went through watching you suffering yesterday. Are you sure you’re better? Do you feel…different?”
Oh, that’s right! She’d nearly forgotten the point of that agonizing potion. Mentally, she registered, sorted, and categorized every nuance of her body, her mind, even glanced at her bare arms and hands, flipping them this way and that…searching for any sign that magic was now a p
art of her. Hers to control.
Disappointment made her shoulders hunch. “I don’t feel any different at all.”
He returned her disgruntled expression with a thin-lipped smile, yet he appeared…relieved? At her look, he admitted, “To be honest, I’m glad. I feared you’d be a completely different person when you woke.” He playfully nudged her shoulder. “Like a witch or something.”
She laughed. “But aren’t I supposed to be? Maybe that blood test really was inaccurate.”
Mace disagreed, explaining what Ms. Windshaw said while she’d been out. The prospect of training to master her powers did nothing to quell her disappointment. She had hoped for something a little more…instantaneous.
Mace didn’t allow for much wallowing. He left her side and walked around the bed to stand before her. Then he offered his hand, with it, a wicked smile. “Let me care for you.”
A thrill scored through her at his rumbling voice. Who’d have thought she’d ever be hot for a vamp. And she wasn’t even hopped up on the red juice.
Cora set the kitten aside, gave one last scratch to its head, and then placed her palm in Mason’s hand.
* * *
After Mace had thoroughly “cared for her” in the shower, on the counter, against the wall, Cora shuffled through her newly purchased wardrobe with a towel around her body. She had the undeniable urge to wear something Mace would like. And she knew just the thing.
After a short hunt, she found what she was looking for. Knowing full well that Mace greedily watched her from the bed—still hadn’t had enough of her by the looks of him—she hooked the red thong around one finger and nonchalantly held it up for his observation.
The kitten was perched in his lap, sleeping. Mace’s big hand dwarfed the feline as he petted it. How cute was that?
At the sight of the undergarment, he let out a low growl, his eyes going dark. The kitten lifted its head.
“You mean to keep me here forever, vixen.”
A shiver ran through her at the prospect. When Mason’s fangs began to elongate, she bit her lip, recalling the pleasure those incisors had provided only moments ago. But then he seemed to mentally shake himself.
“No more distractions. You need food. So does your little furball.”
She sighed. “Alright.”
After stepping into the panties, she dressed in a tan blouse with delicate frills down the front and a pair of denim jeans that stretched over her hips like a glove. Mason’s eyes had gone dark again. With sure steps, she sauntered toward him and then claimed the kitten, cradling it in her arms.
Still seated, Mace swore under his breath and then grabbed her backside hard, a hand on each ass cheek, pulling her close. The pressure sent a shock of pleasure up her spine, straight into her brain. She stifled a moan. Mace appeared nearly savage as he gazed up at her adoringly. As though he were starving, and not for her blood.
It was the first moment in her life she’d felt powerful.
It was heady, seductive, addictive.
Merrow. The kitten ran its cold nose along her forearm followed by a sand-papery tongue.
“I suppose I should eat something,” she murmured on a sigh.
“Then right back up here,” Mace said.
Downstairs, Cora found the kitchen filled with treats. Many that a year ago, she would have risked her life to pilfer: fruits, vegetables, pastries, whole milk…pie! Several kinds by the looks of it. She might not be hungry, but there was always room for pie.
Mace took a seat at the table as she pulled one of the delicacies out of the fridge and placed it on the opposite island counter. Then she grabbed a plate from the cabinet and transferred a slice onto it. Cherry filling seeped out of the flaky cocoon like a miniature rockslide.
Mace watched her with the same adoration as she scavenged for a fork. Next to him, the kitten lapped from a saucer of milk he’d set out.
“Would you like a piece?” she asked Mace, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Later, maybe. I’ve already had my dessert.” He smiled suggestively.
She blushed furiously.
Just as she pulled a fork from a drawer, Knox appeared in the doorway. Mace tensed, and she froze, her eyes darting nervously.
“Well, cher? You going to offer me any?” As always, Knox’s deep tone verged on a threat.
She didn’t respond. Wasn’t sure she could have even if her throat hadn’t grown thick with unwanted panic. That powerful feeling had fled faster than a minnow in sea of piranha. Frustration mingled with her fear. She wanted to question Knox about Ms. Windshaw’s accusation, about what he may have done to Saraphine. But like a coward, she only stood there as Knox idly slid the fork from her two-fingered grasp. Her teeth gnashed at his mocking expression as he bypassed her single serving and claimed the entire tin. Then he dug the fork straight into the middle and shoveled a heaping portion into his mouth.
“Knox,” Mace chastised. “That’s for Cora. You don’t need it.”
“You’re right,” he replied easily, not taking his eyes off her. “What I need has yet to be provided. We had a deal.”
“And what she needs is to regain her strength.”
His gaze languidly traveled over her. “Looks healthy enough to me.”
She paled, and he smirked. He enjoyed her discomfort! A small fraction of her fear morphed into indignation. She couldn’t allow him to continue his purposeful intimidation. Or, at least, she couldn’t let it show. Not if she and Mace were going to corral him into behaving more reasonably.
Before they’d left the room, Cora had asked Mace, “I don’t understand why we remain here with him.” She’d witnessed vampires kill each other over something as insignificant as a childish argument, though she hadn’t informed Mace of that.
He’d simply replied, “It’s complicated. Besides, this is the safest location for you right now, even with Knox, and I’m sure he will calm down…eventually. ”
Feigning bravado, Cora turned and retrieved another fork from the drawer. Then she snatched her pie and crossed to join Mace at the table. She was sure the desert was savory and sweet, but to her, the first bite was like powdered chalk. For effect, she crossed her legs and tried to appear at ease.
After a moment, Knox transferred his gaze from her to Mace. “I just spoke with Trent. He wants you to get to work on his list of suspects, or whatever. I’ve set up an office for you down below.”
“And what will you be doing?”
He spread his arm out as if to say, “You’re looking at it.” At Mason’s glare, he said, “VEA business is your bag, not mine. Got my own shit to do. And no, we’re not going to gab about it like adolescent girls.” He dug into the pie again.
Cora was on her third bite, and she thought she was actually starting to taste it. It would be a shame to down the whole thing with no enjoyment. She used to love food…when she could get it.
After her marriage, Winston had introduced her to all manner of wondrous delicacies.
Honestly she didn’t care that she was no longer hungry. It was actually a relief not to feel the effects of starvation. She just wished her taste buds were in working order.
When she took another bite, flavor exploded into her mouth, and she jumped at the unexpected punch. Two sets of eyes swung toward her.
“What?” Mace asked.
Instead of answering right away, she eagerly tested the pie again.
Delicious!
“I think…I think I just did magic or something.”
Whereas Mace seemed instantly curious, Knox appeared horrified. Before she could explain, he tossed the leftover pie onto the counter and stormed out of the room.
Chapter 28
With that somewhat trivial, yet profound, mystical evidence of magic existing within her, Cora became ravenous for information. Over the next few weeks, she delved back into the books Mace had provided. She read and reread the pocket book of spells, all the while attempting to access her powers again. Unfortunately with no noticeable luck. T
he book was mostly filled with superficial spells, such as increasing energy, helping with slumber, beauty remedies. Much of it was holistic in nature. There were a few in the back that claimed her interest. A spell called The Breath of Life, another dubbed Access to the Realm of Dreams, and another simply called Truth.
Her kitten, which she’d named Meeka, remained near and followed wherever she went. If she ventured downstairs for a light snack, Meeka would bound down after her. After a while, Meeka had taken to riding on Cora’s shoulder, earning her amused looks from Mace.
She came across a bit of text that suggested Meeka might be her familiar, a witch’s spiritual ally. As Cora read on, she found familiars were used to maintain a rapport with nature, a reoccurring theme, she discovered. Familiars were also considered companions and often assisted witches with their magic. The timing of Meeka’s arrival was Cora’s greatest affirmation that this was the case.
All in all, things settled down, as Mace had predicted. Cora had begun a regiment of bloodletting. Each morning, she would fill a thermos by carefully slicing her wrist under Mace’s supervision and place it in the fridge for Knox. If she weakened or grew chilled from the loss of blood, Mace offered her his vein to replenish her energy and his body to warm her. She never took more from him than was necessary.
And though she never caught Knox drinking—he was thankfully keeping his distance—the thermos was always emptied by morning. Even if the means was distasteful to Cora, the resulting peace was priceless. She’d happily bleed as long as was necessary.
Mace began to relax as well, becoming more comfortable with leaving her from time to time. He often disappeared to a subterranean complex that reminded Cora of an elaborate bomb shelter.
He’d shown it to her once. That’s when he’d discovered her unique phobia.
Quickly growing lost as he led her around the many rooms and corridors, she’d begun to shake and panic for the exit. The familiar sense of claustrophobia combined with the terror of being trapped crawled over her. It was almost as if she could feel the weight of the mountain above pressing down on her. The walls seemed to constrict, twist, and close in around her. When he’d brought her back out into the less confining cavern, he’d held her till her quaking ebbed. He hadn’t suggested she venture down there again.
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