“I am a warlock,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“A warlock!” My voice broke over the word. “As in a male witch?”
“Yes.” He nodded and stopped approaching me when he was oh, a broom’s length away.
“And I suppose you’re going to insist I’m a witch too?” I yelled at him.
That caught him off guard. He stopped whatever he’d been about to say and just stood there for a second or two, studying me carefully. “How did you know?” he asked finally.
“Because I’m not as ignorant as you would like to think and I …” I racked my brain, trying to find something that I could use against him—something to wave in front of his face that might get him to leave me alone. And of course, the only thing that came to mind was my vampire, Sinjin. “I have a protector, and one you won’t want to mess with.”
“A protector?” he repeated as his eyes narrowed.
“Yes,” I insisted, and as ridiculous as it was, I pushed the broom out, catching him in the middle of his waist with the scratchy end.
“And who is this protector of yours?” he demanded.
“None of your damn business!” I railed back at him, suddenly wondering if it would be smart to throw around Sinjin’s name. I mean, I had no idea if Sinjin would consider this guy a friend, a nemesis, or a nobody. Better to keep that information to myself. But I would tell him what was most important. “He’s a vampire and he could kill you just as easily as look at you.”
Well, I hoped that last part was true, at least. Judging by the look on Rand’s face, the threat had done its job.
“I’ve come too late then,” he said, and his voice had a strange quality to it—something that sounded sad and hollow. “He’s already found you.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I thought it would be smart to run with it. “Yes … Yes, he has.”
“Jolie,” he started again, his tone urgent this time. He took a step closer. What happened next completely baffled me. I jammed the broom at him, hitting him in the stomach with it. At the very instant that the broom hit his mid-section, I felt something like energy leave my body and travel the length of the broom. It hit him in a huge burst of bright blue light and sent him sailing through the air. He landed maybe three feet away, on his back.
“Oh my God!” I screamed, covering my mouth in shock as I took a step forward and then stopped, reminding myself that I was protecting myself against an intruder.
He sat up and shook his head, apparently trying to shake off my Wonder Woman impersonation. Then he simply stood up, took a deep breath, and turned around, exiting through the door. He slammed it shut behind him.
The following evening, I found myself driving to Sinjin’s new house. I parked in front, took a deep breath, and stepped out of my Jetta—then suddenly felt like my feet were mired in quicksand. There was a part of me that was nervous about dropping my guard and getting close to Sinjin. I mean, he was a vampire for crying out loud! Granted, we’d established the fact that he was apparently my guardian and, as such, wouldn’t be sampling my goods, but there it was—he was a bloodsucker and I was, for all intents and purposes, a blood bag.
Maybe if that brush with Rand at my store hadn’t happened, I would have been less eager to seek Sinjin out. But now something inside me felt panicked, something that demanded action urgently. I was overflowing with questions—Why have both a vampire and a warlock entered my life? And what is a warlock anyway? What other powers does Rand possess? Is he bad, for lack of a better word? And finally, why do both Sinjin and Rand think I’m a witch? Most important, how in the hell could I, boring Jolie Wilkins, zap a powerful warlock across the room with my bare hands—well, with the help of a broom?
Speaking of the warlock, Christa had instantly become reanimated after he left the store—as if someone had turned her switch back on. She had seemed a little confused, maybe—looking around herself as if she’d misplaced something, which turned out to be her sushi. But after finding it, she’d acted as though nothing strange had ever happened. She didn’t even recall Rand’s visit, and I wasn’t about to remind her, afraid that she’d really freak out.
I, myself, was relieved that my best friend had been restored to me and that she apparently hadn’t fared any the worse for her brief mental vacation, but that relief was short-lived. Why? Because Rand was a wild card. I didn’t know what he wanted, why he continued to harass me, or what he was capable of.
I was now incredibly frightened about the path my life was taking. It felt as if everything I knew had been ripped out from underneath me and I was spiraling out of control in a twister of doubt and confusion. It was time for answers. I wanted—no, needed—to understand what was happening.
So tonight would be the night … I planned to spill my guts to Sinjin about all of this in the strained hope that he could provide the missing pieces and fill in the gaps. And while there was a part of me that demanded answers, there was also a part of me that was rejoicing over the fact that I would see Sinjin again. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I’d missed him … a lot.
A cold wind picked up and wrapped itself around my ankles, reminding me that I couldn’t just stand out here on the curb forever. I needed to make a decision. I needed to either face Sinjin or get back in my car and go home. I swallowed hard and moved forward.
It felt like it took me two years to make it onto the walkway that led to Sinjin’s house—a three-story Spanish villa, complete with an expansive front yard filled with fragrant olive trees and Mexican sage. The sage plants hugged the lighted walkway, their long purple blooms dancing back and forth as the wind whipped through them. I followed the undulating path as it snaked back and forth toward Sinjin’s front door. Funny how the first time I’d taken this same walk, I hadn’t had any of the feelings that consumed me now. Instead, I’d cheerfully followed the real estate agent up to the house, asking myself if Sinjin might like this property, without even the slightest idea that he might be a vampire.
There was a lone light coming from the dining room, but other than that the house was dark, making me wonder if Sinjin was even at home. Maybe he was out hunting for prey? I felt my feet fumble over each other and steadied myself against the huge pepper tree that stood in the middle of the path, trying to imagine what it meant for Sinjin to drink blood.
Was it painful for the victim? Or was it sexual, pleasurable, like Sinjin had implied? And that part about it being painful for witches, was that something I’d have to now consider? I shook my head, still not completely accepting the fact that I might be able to add “witch” to my list of credentials. But back to the victims of Sinjin’s bite … did he tell his prey the truth about what would happen to her or did he merely glamour her into acceptance? Was the person actually injured afterward or even dead? I shook my head, unable to believe that Sinjin was a killer. He just couldn’t be—not when he was so convincing about being my protector. How could he protect me and still be a murderer?
Because he’s a vampire, you dumb-ass, my brain replied loudly.
I gritted my teeth, not allowing my wayward thoughts to get the better of me. I was here for a reason—I had a purpose and I was ready. It was now or never.
I stalled in front of the dark, wooden, double doors that led into the mansion. I raised my fist, about to knock, when I noticed the doorbell off to one side. I rang it once and listened as the sound echoed throughout the house, reminding me of the sad tolling of bells in a belfry—the music of the cemetery, of the dead.
Jeez, Jolie, snap out of it, I reprimanded myself. It’s not like Sinjin’s dead … But then I had to stop and ponder on that a bit longer. Oh my God, is he dead?
He’s a vampire, he must be dead.
But he’s animated—it’s not like he’s some corpse, rotting away.
A corpse? Ew, that’s so gross.
I closed my eyes and told the voices in my head to take a permanent hike. I didn’t have the strength or the wherewithal to argue with myself
any longer. Instead I focused on the fact that Sinjin didn’t appear to be home. Pivoting on one foot, I turned around and walked right into someone, my nose banging into his chest.
“Agh!” I yelled, bracing my hands against the broad, cold chest in front of me. Sinjin grabbed my hands and held them as he smiled down at me. I struggled to free myself, suddenly breathless, winded, and nervous. “How long have you been standing there?” I demanded.
Sinjin smirked that incredibly sexy grin of his and arched a brow, regarding me with amusement and, more obviously, patience. He released my hands suddenly and I nearly fell backward, but I managed to regain my balance. As I looked up at him, I was irritated with my racing heart. I was nervous around Sinjin and yet he was as comfortable and carefree as ever. He had the eternal look of someone who never let anything bother him. It also seemed like he had nowhere to go and nothing to do but all the time in the world to do it in. Given the fact that he was a vampire, my observation was probably spot-on.
“How old are you?” I added, my voice a mere whisper.
“Which question would you prefer I answer first, love? My age or how long I have been standing here?”
I frowned. “The age one.”
“I am six hundred,” he replied in a matter-of-fact sort of way, then cocked his head to the side, as if judging my reaction. I felt my jaw drop, and he calmly reached across and closed my mouth by lifting my chin.
“Six hundred!” I squeaked, shaking my head in shock. “You are six hundred years old?”
“Yes, love, I was not referring to moons.”
I busily did the math. “So you were born during the fourteen hundreds?” I asked, feeling like I might pass out right there.
“Yes, the exact date of my birth now escapes me, but I am at least six hundred.”
For the first time in my life, there was not even a single thought in my mind. It was as if I’d just been frozen, like Rand had done to Christa. The man standing in front of me had lived through the reign of Henry VIII, Queen Elizabeth, the American Revolutionary War, the Civil War, Hitler …
“And to answer your first question, poppet,” Sinjin continued, “I have been behind you from the moment you started up the drive.”
“Why didn’t you announce yourself?” I snapped, but I was secretly pleased that he’d given me something to focus on besides his age. He hadn’t made so much as a sound when he was following me, proof that he was well versed in the supernatural and incredibly powerful, probably more powerful than I could even imagine. I mean, he’d had centuries to hone his craft—to practice, to learn from his mistakes and become stronger, faster, smarter, and … better. This realization made me all too aware that he and I were as different as day and night. If I’d thought Sinjin could snap me like a twig before, now I wondered if he so much as glanced at me with foul intentions, would I cease to exist?
He shrugged. “I enjoy observing you when you think you are alone.” He paused a moment or two. “I can see the real you—natural, uninhibited.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. I could feel goose bumps starting to form on my skin. I wasn’t sure if they were due to Sinjin’s proximity or the cold night air. Maybe it was both.
“Shall we?” he asked as he sidestepped me, reaching for the front door.
“Where were you?” I didn’t mean to sound so … interested or hopeful.
He turned around and paused, his hand on the doorknob. “I was taking a walk.”
“To drink someone’s blood?” I didn’t want to think about Sinjin feeding—though surprisingly enough, the image of that didn’t really bother me. I didn’t want to admit it, but it was more the thought of him being so intimate with someone, especially a woman, that made me … jealous!
Swimming in a sea of unanswered questions, I was absolutely certain of one thing—I had completely lost my mind.
He smiled. “To enjoy nature.” Then he opened the door without even unlocking it.
“You just leave your doors unlocked?” I asked, suddenly grateful for the change in subject.
Sinjin turned around to face me and grinned widely. “I welcome intruders.”
Which made total sense. “They should fear you,” I mumbled.
He chuckled and stood aside, holding the door open for me. “Please come in.”
I nodded and paused only momentarily, thinking that I was placing my trust in someone who could easily kill me. But what choice did I have? I needed answers, and the only way I was going to get them was to trust this man. Really, I had no one else I could turn to. I mean, I supposed I could turn to Rand, but in my heart of hearts I didn’t think that was a good idea. I didn’t know why, but my instincts usually don’t steer me wrong. I stood up straight and marched through the double doors.
“I have a lot of questions for you, Sinjin,” I started, my voice sounding loud and almost abrasive as I tried to hide the underlying nervousness that was gnawing at me.
He strode inside behind me and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms against his chest. He watched me as if completely indifferent to the fact that I was so nervous. I, on the other hand, felt like I might be sick.
“All in good time,” he said in that deep voice of his, which was currently causing shivers to snake up and down my spine. “I would prefer to give you a tour of my new home first, if that pleases you?” He closed the door behind him.
I couldn’t keep a smile from my lips. Somehow, I just found it incredibly cute that he wanted to show off his house—a house that I’d found for him. “Sure.”
He pushed away from the wall and offered his hand, expecting me to take it. I hesitated only momentarily before doing so. He instantly pulled me into the cocoon of his body, wrapping his arms around me.
“Sinjin,” I started, tremors in my voice. I just wasn’t good with this one-on-one, flirty stuff. Truth be told, I felt like an idiot—I didn’t know what to say or do with myself.
“I have missed you, my pet,” he whispered into my ear. His heady scent seemed to fill my entire being. I closed my eyes and told myself to go with it, not to fight the feelings that were welling up inside me. I leaned my head against his shoulder, inhaling deeply. I wanted to be close to him, to feel his arms around me. Yes, they were cold at first—he was cold at first. But, as with the last time I’d touched him, the cold began to fade away, almost as if his body was absorbing the heat from my own.
“Sinjin, is it true that vampires can bewitch people?”
“Yes,” he whispered into my hair as he ran his index finger up and down my naked forearm, causing me to squirm against him. I wanted him! And as much as I tried not to, it was useless because I craved him, needed him. “We refer to it as glamouring our … prey.”
“Your prey,” I repeated and felt a shudder of fear. I pulled away from him and forced myself to hold his gaze, to understand what that meant. “Is that what I am to you?”
He looked down at me and shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he cupped my cheek. “No. Never. You do not realize what you are to me yet, love, because you do not yet understand who and what you are.”
I swallowed hard. “A witch?”
He nodded. “You are extremely powerful, poppet. And, as such, my powers are useless against you.”
But I couldn’t focus on the idea that I was supposed to be a witch and a powerful one at that. The concept was just too foreign, too weird. Instead, I found myself dwelling on the idea of a vampire’s power of persuasion, because that could possibly explain a lot—like why I felt the way I did about Sinjin. “So never in the course of our … friendship … have you ever … glamoured me?”
He smiled at my use of the term friendship. “Never.”
Well that put me right back to square one. I had to accept that I was lusting after Sinjin of my own accord. And I hadn’t wanted to address the whole “you’re a witch” conversation before, but I couldn’t avoid it any longer.
“Sinjin,” I started. “How do you know all this about me?”<
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He glanced over at me. “Perhaps it is a hunch, love.”
I shook my head—it wasn’t a hunch. He could read me like a book. It was as if he knew things about me he shouldn’t have. As a psychic, I could have believed that he was something similar—some sort of sensitive who could see someone’s past just as I could see someone’s future. Maybe that was my answer, but somehow I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was duping myself—that there was more to this picture than met the eye. “You act like we’ve met before?” I suddenly remembered the vision of him at the masquerade party—it had felt so real, so tangible. Was it possible …
He smiled that sexy grin of his and shushed me with his finger. “I will answer all your questions, love, but first our tour. Come.” And he started forward, tugging me along.
“Sinjin …,” I began to argue.
He gave me a stern expression that told me the issue was not open for debate, so with a frustrated sigh I followed. Easier to give in now and get my answers later.
We began our tour in the dining room, and I was soon surprised to discover that in the course of just a week or so, Sinjin had completely furnished the entire six-bedroom, four-bathroom house. After seeing the dining room and living room, I had to admit his style appealed to me. His couches were sumptuous, each easily accommodating five grown men. I could only imagine how small I would look on them, like a little child lost in the dark black leather. On either end of the couches were stainless-steel tables that matched an enormous steel coffee table in the center. With the black leather of the couches and the sharp lines of the tables, Sinjin’s living room was a vast expanse of modernity and hard angles. Of course, he’d also invested in the best gadgets that technology had to offer—including what appeared to be a state-of-the-art surround-sound system and a TV that took up half of one wall.
“Apparently sucking blood is healthy for your pocketbook,” I grumbled.
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