"I thought all witches were immortal," Sunni spoke.
"They can be." Quinn said. "Some are born that way while others use magic to achieve it. No one knows exactly how old Mortianna is, nor do I know if her immortality is magic or innate."
"I think Bliss wanted more than her mother would allow. She told me witchcraft wasn't something that came easily to her. She tried a love spell for a friend once, and the man in question ended up falling in love with her twin instead." Val shook his head. "It was a constant source of strife between her and Mortianna."
"It takes more than being born of a witch to be a witch." Quinn acknowledged.
"After Sinjin transformed her, she lost what little powers she'd possessed." Val continued. "Mortianna was enraged and came after both of them. Only her love for her daughter kept her from killing Sinjin. Bliss was literally between a rock and a hard place. She made her mother swear to leave Sinjin alone. In exchange, she broke her relationship with him."
Quinn nodded. This part of the story he knew well. Mortianna had kept her word and Sinjin had lived in peace. But all bets had died with Bliss.
Now Sinjin would die because he'd dared to love a daughter of light.
He shook his head. So much waste. His sister was dead, her lover dying-his mother ruling like a macabre puppet-master who pulled strings at will. When would Mortianna learn that one should never tryst with the fates? To damage someone else for personal gain went against everything he valued. Lives were being lost, and for what?
It was time to end it.
"There's one thing we can try." He met Maeve's shuttered gaze. "I need you to find me some light-colored paint." He turned to Sunni and Shai. "I need you to bring the candelabra from the upper gallery. The ones that hold the single, tall, fat white candles-I need five. Put them in the dining room."
Sunni and Shai scrambled from the cramped room with Maeve following at a slower pace. Her expression was quizzical, yet she said nothing. He nodded reassuringly and she walked out the door.
"We need to get him out of here."
Val's brow furrowed as he assessed the walls of the underground chamber. "You're sure?"
He nodded. "While vampires feel safer below ground, I can help him more if he's above. Being underground is unnatural for us."
"You're the boss."
With his vampire strength, Val lifted Sinjin from his deathbed and slung him over one shoulder. Quinn picked up the torch, one corner of his brain noting the incongruity of his actions. Vampires were creatures of darkness and many of them, even after having aged to the point of being able to walk in the daytime, spent their lives as such. Now, he was about to introduce Damien St. James to the light.
Maeve adjusted the small pillow under Sinjin's head as Shai straightened the white cotton sheet covering him. They were almost ready. She stepped back, watching to avoid the still-damp pentagram painted on the floor. The pale-blue figure wasn't perfectly even, but she hoped it would do. Art had never been her strongest subject in school.
The scene was eerily reminiscent of Bliss' funeral chamber, minus the flowers and glass coffin. Even the minions were in attendance this evening. Beyond the windows, the darkness was complete, but she could feel their malevolent presence, waiting, watching.
"They can see us." Her voice came out scratchy.
"Let them." Quinn stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She resisted the urge to lean into his warmth if only for a few seconds. "Mortianna will know within minutes what we're about to do. The minions will carry the tale directly to her."
She nodded and looked across the prone body of her friend to where Val stood, one arm around Shai and the other around Sunni. Shai stared out the window, scowling into the darkness as if she could see them hovering, waiting for an opening. Every now and then, she flashed her fangs as if to warn them away.
Sunni's fingers were curled into small fists, worry lining her lovely face. In her lifetime, she'd been a flapper, flower child and an artist. She was a gentle soul who only wanted to love her friends and enjoy her limitless life. Adversity, struggle and the unpleasantness of life were alien to her.
Her gaze traveled to Val. He could more than take care of himself. Shai and Sunni were the most vulnerable, but they'd be safe as long as Quinn and Val were around.
She reached up and patted Quinn on the hand he'd rested on her shoulder. "Thank you for what you're doing. They mean a great deal to me."
He chuckled. "And you mean a great deal to them."
Disturbed, she pulled out of his loose embrace. She didn't deserve their friendship, or his tenderness. If Quinn knew about her past and her plans for revenge, he'd abandon her just like her family.
She heard his sigh and knew that, once again, she'd baffled him. "What do we need to do now?" She asked.
"I'm going to meditate, then we're going to cast a spell. You and everyone else can relax for a while. You'll need to take your positions at five 'til midnight."
She looked at her watch to confirm the time. They had fifteen minutes before the show began. She raised her head, watching Quinn as he walked to the central point of the pentagram surrounding Sinjin. Moving about ten feet north of the point, he dropped into an easy crouch, then lowered himself to sit cross-legged.
Their gazes locked and a tremor of apprehension sparked to life. He gave her a small wink, and her fear faded as answering warmth bloomed in her chest. He removed his shoes, then his shirt, setting them aside. Placing his hands palm up, one on each knee, he nodded before closing his eyes.
A chill raced down her spine.
He was lost to her in more ways than one.
* * *
Chapter 8
"We're ready to begin."
Quinn's soft words jolted her into action. Pulling the lighter out of her pocket, Maeve lit the fat, white candle in the floor candelabrum in front of her. She glanced around the room to see Val, Shai and Sunni doing the same.
Barefoot, Quinn walked to the edge of the pentagram near the central point of the star. He wore baggy, white cotton pants and a matching, oversized, long- sleeved shirt. Runic symbols in gold thread decorated the hem of the shirt. His expression was solemn and his mannerisms calm and confident.
He withdrew a fat vial of clear liquid from his pocket. Opening the cap, he dipped his fingers in the substance.
"Guardians of All that is righteous." He anointed the candle, starting in the middle then moving up. "I call upon you to attend our circle here." He started in the middle once again, this time moving down to the base. One by one, he walked to each of the remaining candles aligned with the points of the pentagram and performed the same ritual.
Once completed, he returned to the center point.
"I call to you, Goddess, to attend our circle here." He raised his hands toward the ceiling. "Our Goddess of the moon reigns over all who attend me tonight. Those who strive to subvert her work have no power within this circle."
The icy finger of a breeze tickled the back of her neck as the temperature in the room dropped. Maeve shivered and barely managed to resist looking over her shoulder to see what stood behind her.
"I call upon the power of the Goddess to set the darkness to light within this sacred place. Banish that which is ill and protect that which is yours by right and natural law."
Cool air washed down her back, causing gooseflesh to break out on her skin and the candles to flicker.
"Hold your children to your bosom and cast out what is malignant. Those who serve themselves by doing only harm are not welcome here."
Her vision wavered as a slight movement caught her attention. She blinked, staring hard at the area several inches from Sinjin's chest. Smoke appeared to seep from the front of his shirt just above his heart. She glanced at the others to see if they'd noticed the phenomenon, but they were paying rapt attention to Quinn's ritual.
"Protect your child, Damien St. James, so he may work in your name. Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
The smoke thickened with each word. With a wave of his hand, Quinn urged Val to join with him in the chant. As his voice joined the witch's, Maeve turned to see Val had noticed the smoke and was now staring at it with an expression of fascinated horror.
"Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
The small cloud began to thicken and enlarge.
"Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
It swirled like a miniature thunderhead.
"Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
The movement increased as Shai and Sunni's voices joined the men's.
"Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
With each utterance, the movement increased and the temperature dropped. Much more of this and she'd be able to see her own breath. A scent like that of burning leaves filled the air. Concentrating on the cloud, Maeve licked her lips and began whispering the words.
"Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
"Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
"Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
"Nas miosa imich an seo-a mhain an leus failte."
Quinn raised his hand and pointed a finger at the spinning darkness.
"Begone."
The quietly spoken word had a cataclysmic effect. The cloud coalesced into the form of a dagger, its sharp point directed at Quinn.
"Oh my god," Maeve whispered.
The smoke-dagger hurled itself at him, yet he didn't flinch. As the tip reached his chest, it lost form and surrounded his chest and arms in a wide band of darkness.
"Remove yourself and your vile stench of malignancy and leave us in peace."
The smoke fused into a cloud once more, accompanied by a hollow, ghostly wail. The manifestation flew around the room. Maeve dropped to the floor when it came close to her head as it raced past her. The candelabrum tilted, and for a second she thought it would come down upon her. She grabbed the base to steady it before climbing to her feet in time to see the cloud slam into the center window. With a crash, the window exploded outward.
An unearthly crack of thunder shook the house and set the candle flames to dancing. Quinn raised his hand once more, made a motion, and the flames stilled. Within seconds came a wail of frustration.
She looked at Quinn, who nodded in answer to her unasked question. It was Mortianna, thwarted at last.
"It's a very old spell, but my father taught me well. As long as the candles continue to burn, the vampire will be free from harm. However, there are only two ways to reverse the A' bhais Cadail. Either she has to do it herself or it will occur automatically should she die." His gaze seared into hers. "We have three days at most."
Maeve's heart leapt as she heard footsteps pause outside her bedroom door. It could only be Quinn as the others had left the house to feed.
Would he enter? Did she want him to come to her?
Yes.
Her shoulders slumped as she heard him walk across the hall to his own room. Seconds later, the door creaked as he opened it, then again as it closed. She grabbed a pillow and held it over her face as she let loose a noisy groan of frustration.
Her emotions were tangled when it came to Quinn. One minute she wanted nothing more than to spend eternity wrapped in his arms, other times she felt guilty for deceiving him. Cowardice had kept her silent when she could have told him the truth earlier tonight. But he'd leave if he knew the reality of her life. She dropped the pillow. She should be working on her plan, not dallying with him. But never had she met a man like him and never would she again. He reached a part of her soul she'd long since thought dead. Could she walk away from that?
No.
He made her feel more alive than ever before. The reality of their situation was that their time was limited. Knowing that tomorrow for them did not exist, could she go to him?
Yes.
Her stomach clenched as the answer reverberated in her head. Yes, she could and would go to him. That decided; she rolled off the bed and padded to the wardrobe in stocking-clad feet. Stripping her clothing as she went, she discarded them in a trail on the floor. She opened the door and rifled though the contents. Damn! Didn't she have anything that wasn't black? Just as she reached the back of the cupboard, she found the perfect garment.
Her palms broke into a sweat as she pulled the satin hanger from its dark repose. The emerald green silk shimmered in the candlelight as she inspected the gown and robe. Lacking any adornment, the chemise straps were set wide apart and the matching robe was long-sleeved and came to mid-thigh on her.
It was the perfect outfit for seduction.
She slipped the gown from the hanger and pulled the cool silk over her body. Glancing in the mirror, she noticed the chemise skimmed her curves and showed, without doubt, that she was a woman. She licked her lips. She'd never tried to seduce a man. Seduction wasn't something she'd ever had time to play with. In her experience, men were like the old joke about how to get a man into bed. You bring beer and show up naked.
But she had a feeling Quinn wouldn't fall for that.
She pulled the robe on and tied the sash, shivering as the silk covered her skin. Even though she had a fire burning in the room to ward off the chill, she was cold from the inside out.
Only one thing could warm her, and he was in the next room.
Picking up a candle, Maeve faltered as she crept out her door. What if he turned her away?
What if he doesn't?
Good point.
The floor was cold beneath her feet as she approached his bedroom door. Partially opened, she glanced down to see that a wrinkle in a rug had stopped the door from shutting all the way. The fates were on her side. She peeked through the opening and caught a glimpse of a huge fire crackling in the fireplace and dancing shadows on the wall.
It was now or never.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open, wincing as it creaked loudly. She stepped inside and shut the door behind her, mindful of the wrinkle in the carpet. The warmth from the fireplace surrounded her as she approached the bed, her heart in her throat.
"Quinn?"
Her voice came out as a squeak and she fought the urge to laugh. Look at her, Miss Kick-Ass-And-Take-Names-Later, quivering over a man. Shai would get a kick out of that. That's all he was, a man. Holding her candle higher, she stepped to the foot of the bed. Just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill-
He was asleep.
His silky blond hair was tumbled over his brow, giving him the appearance of an exhausted child. His skin was golden against the pale sheets and it appeared he slept in the nude. The cover was pushed low on his stomach and a fine line of silken hair ran down the center of his abdomen to vanish beneath the sheet. He lay on his side, arm outstretched as if reaching for someone on the empty side of the bed.
Her stomach gave a quiver and she licked her lips. Now what should she do? Climb in bed with him? Wake him up? Leave? As she reached out and brushed her finger across his palm, a shiver racing up her arm.
She glanced at his handsome face. Okay, so maybe he was more than just a man. What she'd witnessed downstairs was certainly testament to that. He was a witch of tremendous power and certainly too good for the likes of her.
She should leave. Turning, she froze as strong fingers curled around her wrist, preventing her escape.
"Don't go."
Quinn sat up and tugged her closer. Taking the candle from her, he set it on the bedside stand. Helpless to resist, she climbed into his bed when he pulled back the covers, inviting her in.
"I'm so cold." She was dismayed to hear her voice break.
"Let me warm you."
He replaced the covers, then tugged her into his arms. Heat surrounded her as he drew her to close to his body, and she wanted to weep at the sheer pleasure of it. Their legs tangled as she placed her hands on his chest. His heartbeat thudded against her palm.
She raised her head, her nose bumping his. The scent of warm man swirled around her.
His breath mingled with hers and she inhaled his essence. Eyes locked, a slow tingle began in her throat as their breathing mated.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
His face was less than an inch from hers and she tasted him on her lips. He mimicked her and placed his hand over her heart, their bodies aligned as her heart joined his in rhythm. Warmth shafted through her body, expanded into her chest, and coursed down her arms with each beat of her heart. His free hand slid around her body to the base of her spine, bringing her body tight against his.
"Put your hands on me." His voice was warm velvet.
Maeve slipped her arm around him, aping his movements by placing it on the base of his spine. His swift intake of breath indicated she'd done the right thing. She slid her other arm around his neck, bringing him within millimeters of her mouth.
It was incredibly erotic to lie in a man's arms and touch, yet not touch. She ached: her breasts, her mouth, her thighs, the warm, honeyed flesh between them. She was powerless as sensations washed through her, her desire growing with each breath. Her body softened and moistened to accept him, yet he made no move to take her any further.
Their joint breaths quickened and desire rode low and hard in her abdomen. Their breathing deepened. Her nipples tightened as the tension spiraled even higher. Air raged through her lungs, as their gazes remained locked. His blue eyes were dilated and stormy with arousal. Their breathing quickened and, without warning, she peaked, spasms of ecstasy moving through her as gentle and welcome as a sunrise.
Wave after wave of delicious sensation undulated through her as a soft cry escaped her mouth. As the final shock waves ebbed, he tucked her head into his shoulder as she floated back to earth once again, secure in his arms.
Moments later as the lethargy receded, she stirred, only to realize that Quinn hadn't found his own release. Full and heavy, his erection lay between them, pulsing against her lower stomach. His breathing was harsh. She pulled away to meet his dark eyes. They glowed with an inner warmth she didn't have the strength to question.
Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 4 Page 8