She cringed away from him. “Yes, I—I understand. I’ll come right back.” She swallowed hard. “I promise.”
“You may leave in the morning. No one will stop you, but you better be back by sundown, or you’ll suffer my wrath.” He looked away, dismissive.
“Yes, sir, I’ll be back by sundown. You have my word.”
CHAPTER TWO
As the early morning’s rays flooded the alleyway, the vampires let her walk right out the door as promised. She knew very well that it would be foolish to try to run, with Drake making it perfectly clear what the consequences would be if she did. Besides, she would be practically living in the lap of luxury while she was there, even if she could not come and go as she pleased.
Her apartment was just a few short blocks away, taking her no time to get there. Hiding out from the witch hunter meant keeping a low profile. So, she had leased an apartment a low rent seedy side of town. At least residing with the vampires meant she wouldn’t have to worry about the witch hunter anymore.
She stopped, staring up at the shabby frame of the building. The weathered blue paint peeled in strips from the rotting wood of the two-story apartment. Two upstairs windows were boarded. She turned her head, looking up the street. There were several abandoned old cars missing doors and windows. Litter papered the street and walkways. “I won’t miss this place, that’s for sure.” Walking up the steps, she took her key out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and went inside. Once safely inside, she closed the door, locking it firmly behind her.
She ambled into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. A bowl of cold cereal and milk fit the bill nicely. She sat down at the dingy table, eating her cereal leisurely. She looked around the room, assessing what needed to be done.
Having leased the apartment fully furnished, thankfully most of the items did not belong to her. She chewed the mouthful of cereal slowly as she looked around the small, dumpy apartment. The walls, once white, were dingy and water stained. The carpet, tan when new, was stained dark from years of abuse and spills. It was also threadbare and sporting holes in a few spots. The wooden kitchen cabinets had been painted so many times that the green paint bubbled and peeled in places. Two of the cabinet doors hung askew on broken hinges. The refrigerator was old and rusted. The stove had seen its better days, too. A single bulb hung from the ceiling over her head at the table, giving meager light to the shabby room. She hated living like this. She watched a roach crawl across the stained ceiling and shivered in revulsion. She would not miss this place at all, and she definitely would not miss that nosy landlady either; good riddance. She had a good mind to cast that toad spell anyway. It would serve her right.
She finished eating and put her dirty dishes in the sink. Leaving the room, she headed into the small bedroom to pack. Pulling out a suitcase, she laid it open on the bed. Opening her top drawer, she pulled out her book of spells, and placed it gently into the suitcase. She then scooped all of her statues, amulets, and candles, and put them next to the book. Scooping up all the rest of her clothes, she shoved them in overstuffed the bag, testing the integrity of the nylon zipper. She dragged the heavy suitcase from her bedroom, placing it beside the front door.
Grabbing a shopping bag, she made her way to the kitchen, emptying her cabinets of all of her herbs. She was looking for anything that she might need to cast a spell. She slowly looked around the room to see if she missed anything. Sighing dramatically, she noted the rest of the stuff she had to leave. She would not need it where she is going anyway. Toting the shopping bag into the living room, she placed it by the suitcase next to the front door.
She paused, giving the door a puzzled look. It was standing wide open; she could have sworn it was closed a minute ago. A cold chill raced down her spine, and she froze. “Oh my God, someone must have followed me home.” She apprehensively looked around the room. “Is—is someone there?” she whispered hoarsely.
Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind her, covering her mouth and nose with a cloth doused in chloroform. Fear gripped her as she frantically struggled to pull away from her captor.
“I’ve got you now, witch.”
* * *
The sun had set over an hour ago and Desiree had not made her commanded appearance, again. Drake was livid. “Sean, come in here!” he roared.
Sean hurried into the room and respectfully kneeled before his master. “Sire?”
Drake pounded his fist on the table, splitting the wood. “I told that little witch to be here by sundown, or I’d have her in chains. Go get her, now!”
Sean bowed his head to Drake. “As you wish.” He stood back up and inclined his head, slightly smiling. “Should I take the chains with me, or chain her up when I bring her back?”
Drake narrowed his eyes. “Very funny.” He clenched his teeth together. “Just bring her back, unharmed. We need her.”
Realizing he made his jest in poor taste, the smile dropped from his face. “Yes, sire.”
* * *
Desiree slowly opened her eyes to the gentle rocking of the minivan, her mind in a medicine-induced fog. The chloroform steadily wore off, taking away the cobwebs that cluttered her conscious thoughts. Pinching her eyebrows together, she felt a sharp pain shooting through her temples with an intense feeling of disorientation. Moving at all was a labored effort; her stiff joints screamed in pain. Jerking at her bindings, trying to readjust herself, she discovered that she could not move. A moment of panic engulfed her, bringing her to total awareness. Her mind raced, trying to assess her situation. The only thing that she knew for sure was that she was bound and gagged. Turning her head slightly, her eyes frantically searched the interior of the minivan, stopping on the driver. Groaning in despair, her heart sank. Jason Hargrove was at the wheel.
Upon hearing a groan, Jason tore his gaze away from the road to look over his shoulder into the backseat. A wicked smile split his face. “Good, you’re finally awake; you’ve been asleep a long time. We’ll be in Salem in a couple of hours.” Turning his head back toward the road, he continued. “You’ll stand trial, and I’ll finally get my bounty. They’re going to burn you, witch. They’re going to use green wood and make it burn hotter and last longer,” he taunted, glancing back over his shoulder at her.
Desiree looked away, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Jason laughed. “Tears don’t help the wicked. You won’t get away this time. I’ll see to it personally,” he sneered. “You might have gotten away from my daddy fifty years ago, but you won’t outsmart me.”
She turned her head, closing her eyes, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her suffer.
“Trying to ignore me, witch? It won’t do you any good… Have it your way.”
* * *
Sean arrived back at the warehouse from his trip to Desiree’s apartment. He did not want to be the one baring the news of Desiree’s disappearance to Drake.
He stormed inside with Desiree’s bags; all eyes turned to stare at him. Ignoring his comrades, he headed toward Drake’s chamber, bracing himself for the expected confrontation.
“Enter,” Drake bellowed before he could knock. “The girl better be with you.”
Sean entered Drake's chamber with Desiree’s bags in tow. “She’s gone, sire. I have her bags. It appears she was going to come back.” Drake narrowed his eyes, his anger apparent, as Sean hastily continued. “I caught her scent, and it was mixed with that witch hunter, Jason Hargrove. I don’t think she went willingly.”
“Bring Mica to me. He owes me.”
Sean’s mouth went slack. “But, sire, Mica’s a rogue. He's unpredictable.”
Drake nodded, smiling maliciously. “He’s perfect for this task. I want her back, and I want Hargrove’s head on a stick.”
Sean bowed his head. “As you wish.”
CHAPTER THREE
Mica Sinclair stormed into the warehouse, itching to show Drake how displeased he was with this so-called summons. Just because they were friends didn’t mean tha
t he could order him around like some lackey. He had, after all, helped him overthrow the prior king, putting him into his current realm of power. He plopped moodily onto the overstuffed couch, raking his fingers through his thick black hair in frustration. Sean refused to tell him anything other than Drake commanded his presence.
He looked up as Sean came out of Drake’s chambers, approaching him with caution. “Drake will see you now.” He turned to walk away, then stopped as if changing his mind. “I suggest if you want to keep your head, you may want to check your temper at the door. Drake is in a foul mood.”
Mica lifted an eyebrow, smiling wickedly, his fangs growing and protruding over his bottom lip. “I’m sure his mood’s no fouler than mine. By the way, keep your advice to yourself. I do as I please.”
Sean shrugged, dismissive. “It’s your head.” His eyes sparkled, smiling in challenge. “Please, do as you please. I would love to see your head roll.”
His eyes flashed in anger and he stood to his full six-foot-seven height, looking down at Sean. Clenching his fist, he pounded it into his hand to show his strength. “I just bet you would, wouldn’t you?”
Sean backed away and made a hasty retreat.
Mica watched him slink away. “Coward.” He turned, storming toward Drake’s chambers.
Drake nodded at Mica when entered the room. “Are you still trying to intimidate my bodyguard?” he remarked dryly, taking his seat in his chair. Looking up, he motioned for Mica to sit as well.
Mica sat down, flashing him a smile. “He makes an easy target, always jumping to the bait.”
He laughed, splaying his hands. “He’s loyal to me, and don’t you forget it. How have you been, my friend? It’s been a long time.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I was doing better before I was ordered to come here. You know how I feel about orders.”
Drake glared back in challenge. He had given Mica his immortality from human to vampire three hundred years prior, during the vampire wars in England. Mica had further proved his friendship a hundred years ago by helping him overthrow his predecessor, making him king. “Don’t test my friendship. I am still king.” Picking up his hand, he waived it, dismissive. “We are too much alike. I don’t take well to orders either. The only difference between us is I like to command, and you don’t.” His eyes sparkled. “I have need of your special talent.”
Rolling his eyes, he laughed. “Who’s pissed you off now?” As a human, Mica had acquired excellent tracking skills. With his transition, his tracking skills had become unsurpassed. Drake never called upon Mica unless he wanted someone dead.
Drake rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “It was a certain witch hunter by the name of Jason Hargrove.”
The smile left his face. “What’s Hargrove to you? He doesn’t hunt our kind. He wouldn’t dare.”
“He’s stolen something from me, and I want it back.”
Sitting up straight in his seat, his curiosity tweaked. He looked Drake in the eyes in anticipation, speaking in a low tone. “Just what precious item did he steal that you will go to such great lengths to get back?”
Smiling, he answered in the same tone. “He stole my witch, Desiree Dupuis, and I want her back.”
Mica barked with laughter. “He stole your witch? Since when do you have a witch?”
“This is not funny,” Drake roared. “I’m serious. I want that witch back.”
Mica sobered. Sitting back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll repeat myself. Since when do you have a witch?”
“I acquired her last night. I let her go home to get her things, and Hargrove grabbed her from her apartment.” Scowling, he pounded his fist on the arm of his chair. “I want her back.”
He studied Drake’s dark mood. “I can see that.” He paused in thought. “Does she have some special talents in bed? I’m sure there are other females out there that aren’t as much trouble as a witch.”
He waved his hand at him in denial. “I don’t want her back for my bed. She’s a beautiful woman, but a little thin for my taste.”
Mica splayed his hands. “Then what’s so special about her that I have to chase this witch hunter clear across the country?” He crossed his arms over his chest again. “Because you know he’ll be heading for Salem to collect his bounty. It’s a lot of trouble for a simple tussle in bed.”
“I told you, I don’t want to sleep with her." Drake shouted forcefully. “She has other talents that I covet.”
Mica smiled. Now they might be getting somewhere. “And what might that talent be?”
“She’s a witch. I want her magic.”
“I don’t understand.” Mica shook his head in disbelief. “Witches are a dime a dozen. Why this one? Why don’t you just go get another?”
Drake leaned forward and motioned him closer as if to tell a secret. “She’s a hundred and twenty-five years old.”
Mica scrunched up his face in disgust. “What do you want with an old hag?”
He smiled, sitting back in his chair. “She’s not an old hag.”
“Humans don’t age well.”
“She cast a spell on herself a hundred years ago.” He looked Mica in the eyes. “She hasn’t aged a day since.”
He glared back at Drake, still not convinced. “Okay, for the sake of argument, she’s not an old hag,” he grunted, dismissive. “You’re immortal; why do you need an anti-aging spell?”
Drake chuckled. “I don’t.” Mica rolled his eyes. “I figured if she is powerful enough to give herself immortality, then she might be able to conjure a spell for us.”
Mica raised his eyebrows, looking at Drake suspiciously. “What need do we have for magic?”
“She has agreed to try to conjure a spell so that we can go out in the light of day again.” His smile grew. “I want to walk in the sun.”
“Is she powerful enough to do this?”
The smile faded and then he sighed. “I don’t know, but I’m really hoping she is.”
“She’s tricking you to save her own neck. She can’t do this.”
“She didn’t come to me. I summoned her. I really didn’t give her much of a choice.” He smiled. “She doesn’t like orders much either.”
Mica smiled back, standing up. “Ah, a challenge then.”
Drake laughed. “You just make sure you bring her back to me in one piece.” Rising from his chair, he reached over, slapping Mica on the back. “You will need to hurry. The judges will set the execution date, and they won’t wait long.”
Mica sighed in resignation. “I’ll leave for Salem tonight then.”
“Take your shape-shifter friend Caleb with you. Take the Express Van. Caleb can drive in the daytime while you hide out in the back.” Drake tossed him a cell phone. “Call me when you have her back; I’m on speed dial.”
Mica looked at the tiny phone in his hand in disgust. “You know I hate these things.” He looked back up at Drake. “I prefer my privacy.”
Drake barked with laughter. “Humor me.”
Mica inclined his head. “I think I humor you enough already.”
“Point taken.” He gestured toward the door. “Just take the phone and use it. Call me with your report. Sean has the keys to the Express Van. Tell him I said to give them to you.”
Mica smiled in anticipation. “I look forward to it.”
“Hey, go easy on my bodyguard.” He shook his head and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know you’re itching for a fight. Save it for Hargrove. Never mind, I’ll get the keys from Sean.” Looking over at Mica again, he laughed. “You’re a lot of trouble. Do you know that?”
Mica shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
Drake rolled his eyes, leaving the room to retrieve the keys from Sean. He came back into the room, tossing the keys to Mica. “Call me.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Caleb Jenkins sat kicked back, lounging in his recliner watching the local evening news. He balled up a piece of paper, and threw it at the television screen. �
��People are idiots. I don’t know why I even bother watching the news,” he grunted in disgust. Taking the remote, he turned off the flat screen in frustration, throwing the remote back on the coffee table. He was bored out of his mind.
His lack of patience and his obsessive compulsive tendencies left him exiled from his pack. He had made the mistake of becoming obsessed with the alpha’s intended mate. He didn’t know what came over him. When he found a woman that intrigued him, he obsessed about conquering her until she was finally his. Usually, once that happened, he’d lose interest. He had tried to explain that to the alpha, but he didn’t find any humor in that explanation. He barely made it out of there alive. He wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for Mica coming to his rescue. Now, that friendship between a shifter and a vampire was an oddity in itself.
Caleb was born a shape-shifter. He had the ability to shift at will into just about any animal he chose. Although not immortal, his kind aged very slowly, generally living to be close to a thousand years before succumbing to old age. Caleb was still fairly young at age three hundred and fifty. He and Mica met when Mica was still a human and they lived in England. Mica was drinking in an ale house with his buddy Drake who was also human at that time. In a drunken stupor, someone had started a brawl. Mica wound up fighting side by side with him, loving the fight just as much as he did. They formed a fast friendship, watching out for one another and sharing the attentions of the ladies.
Caleb never really liked Drake. He had the opinion that he was too arrogant and full of himself. At the time they met, Mica had no knowledge that Caleb was a shifter. It was kept secret until a particularly nasty fight where Caleb shifted into a panther to defeat a mob of burly men. Although Mica had been shocked at his secret, he remained his unbiased friend. So, naturally, when the vampire wars descended on the streets of England, Drake had been turned and he ultimately turned Mica. Caleb remained his unbiased friend as well. They had been friends for a hundred years when the incident with his alpha took place.
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