Witch for Hire

by Shyla Colt

  “Really? And not to keep me with you? You’ve expressed your views on human fragility.”

  “It took your consent, Lou,” he whispers, so low I almost miss it.

  “What?” I narrow my gaze as my brain stops processing momentarily.

  “I could never have completed the bonding ritual without you on board one-hundred percent. It’s not something that one can force on another. That what be a compulsion, and we both know a witch as powerful as yourself can’t be put under that particular enchantment so easily, or this deep. You wanted it. A prolonged life with me, access to my innermost thoughts, and the ability to find me anywhere on the planet.”

  His words have silenced me. “Haven’t you wondered why I didn’t pursue you? I understood it was a lot to take in, especially at your age. You were too damn young for me. I knew it, but had I waited, and someone else took you …” His eyes flash a honeyed amber. “The streets would’ve run red with the blood of those who tried to keep you from me. I chose the lesser of evils.” He stepped forward. “I’ve had centuries upon centuries to get used to the thought of a bond-mate. To wonder if it would happen, if I was worthy, and wait.” He shakes his head. I can feel the pain flowing from him. “And when I find her, and it happens, she runs from me.”

  “You gained power from it.”

  His jaw clenches. “I was on the cusp of ascending to the next level. I am old. Not quite ancient, but no youngling either. The bond acted as a catalyst only.”

  I turn from him, unable to accept the facts.

  “You were twenty-two, amore. Things look different now, no?” He spins me around, and places a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his steady gaze. The passion visible in his dark orbs, paralyzes me. I stare, unable to speak.

  “You must understand, a bond is more than a choice, it’s a compulsion. A version of a soulmate. The bond has to replace what can’t form naturally when my life force is altered.”

  “What?”

  “Let me show you.” He folds his hands behind his back and waits patiently as I digest everything he’s said.

  “Fine.” He opens the bond and guides me through the labyrinth of his mind to the section of knowledge he wants me to explore. His mind is orderly—like a library with infinite rows of books on shelves waiting to be read. I dive into the memories, and I’m pierced through the heart by the reality. The hunger, longing, and want. The desire to be next to this one being who was created solely for you. I pull free, and stumble back, stunned, and drowning under the onslaught.

  “You should’ve told me,” I growl. I had no idea what I was entering into.

  “Yes, and I have done my penance these past years without you. Make no mistake, Louella. That is over.” He tugs on the sleeve of his suit, correcting, the imagined wrinkles.

  I scowl.It takes two to tango.”

  He flashes me a rakish grin, I ignore. I won’t fall for his toothpaste perfect smile.“I won you over once. I’m not opposed to doing it again.” His eyes simmer with passion, and something low in my belly tightens. The attraction between us remains.

  “This bond isn’t a choice. It’s a previous decision made without my full understanding. Where we go from here will be on my terms.” I point to myself.

  He chuckles. “Have you forgotten I’m a predator? I like the hunt.” His eyes flash amber.

  I bristle. “I’m not a prize to be won.”

  A thoughtful expression appears on his face, and I’m reminded of the man who made me fall in love with his open adoration. No. “And yet, you are.”

  I hold up my hand. I have to escape before he puts me back under his spell. “Enough of this. Say what you came to.”

  He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair.“There can be no visible animosity between us during the equinox. I have a court appearance to upkeep.”

  I cock my hip. “And what did they think while I was gone?”

  “That my silly human needed time to wrap her head around the fact that she was bound to me until one of our deaths.”

  “You expect me to play house?”

  His narrows his eyes and speeds forward until he’s an inch from my face. “I do, and you will because you know what happens to courts which appear weak. They are toppled. I’ve worked hard to amass what I have, and it’s best for both of us that my hold continues. The killings have dropped off immensely, and relationships with the major witch families and lupines are good. You can’t be that selfish.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Then act like it,” he snaps.

  “Still quick to lay blows with your tongue?” I give a humorless laugh.

  “If you remember correctly, I can do much more than that with my tongue.” He winks.

  I sneer. “Are we done here?”

  “No, I want you dressed and prepped by Gillet beforehand.”

  I roll my eyes. Of course you do, control freak. “Is that all?”

  “No, that’s just the start. Next week, you’ll come by the house, reconcile with my court.”

  “I’m not a trophy.”

  “No. You’re their future queen. They are honor bound to risk their lives for you and follow your orders to some extent. I think this is the least you can do, don’t you?”

  He has a counter maneuver for every move I make. It was a mistake, forgetting how clever he was.

  “I’ll go through the motions for the greater good, but that’s where this ends.”

  He nods his head. “For now.”

  I ignore his final quip. “Now that we’ve settled that, I’ll be going.” I spin on my heel.

  “Amora.”

  I freeze. “Don’t call me that,” I whisper“Mi querida,iMi reina.”

  I close my eyes, hardening my heart, and raising my wall. “I’m not that young girl, eager for affection and attention. The bloom’s gone off the bud of first love.”

  “Good, because this time I’m aiming for eternal love.”

  I quicken my steps, feeling his gaze on my back long after I emerge from the park and arrive at my car. He shot holes in things I believed to be fact and held up a mirror. The reflection was ugly. The bottom just fell out, and nowhere near the way I expected it to. As I grip the steering wheel tight, tears slip from my eyes and roll down my face. Where does this all leave me? He ’fessed up to holding back information to get me. I would never have stayed if I knew what it meant. Would I?

  Either way, the choice was taken from me. Holding on to my indignation, I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand. I prefer anger to sorrow, so I’ll ride it out as long as I can until I’m forced to face it. I have enough dealing with reintegration into my family ... oh, and mastering the new flaming green fire that shoots from my fingertips. No biggie.

  ***

  I rush through the house, shoving boxes into a room and closing the doors on the mess. I’ve been in my home a week, and I’m still settling in. It’s a mini-miracle Sacha agreed to come by for lunch. She’s been out of town tending to family business since I moved back. I wouldn’t blame her if she told me to take a short walk off a long pier. I didn’t have blood siblings growing up; I had Sacha. One of the Morels, she knows all too well what life is like growing up in one of the ruling witch families.

  Setting the po’ boys on the table, I grab two baskets full of homemade potato chips fresh out the fryer, and a glass of Sun Tea I brewed fresh the day before, and put it all together for her. I still know all her favorites. It’s obvious I’m trying to butter her up, but I deserve to do a little groveling. Family doesn’t bail the way I did without so much as an explanation. I straighten the Magnolias in the vase and pause as I sense her coming toward me. Time blurs.

  Blood rushes in my ear as I walk to the door, and open it with shaky hands. The aquamarine Avanti Studebaker makes me smile. The old car is still trucking. Handed down in her family, it’s b
een driven by all three of her brothers before her. I see she couldn’t stand to part with the old girl.

  As she pulls into my driveway, I step out on the porch and shove my hands into the pockets of my heather-gray cable knit cardigan to keep from fidgeting. She steps out of the car, the same girl I once knew, but older now. Her round face is surrounded by a riot of ash blonde curls mixed with light brown that contrasts with her tawny skin.

  Hazel-colored deep-set eyes are fringed with thick lashes and eyebrows. She’s curvier. It looks good on her five-foot-eleven frame. My stomach twists and turns. This must be what a dish towel feels like when it’s wrung out.

  A thin sheen of sweat covers my forehead, and my palms grow sweaty.

  “I’m sorry.” The words rocket out of my mouth like vomit. It’s not enough, but it’s the only way to start things off on the right foot.

  She arches a thick softly-arched brow. “You should be.”

  And the first hit is made.

  I nod, accepting the harsh truth. “Come on in. I made lunch … po’ boys, homemade chips, and Sun Tea.”

  She whistles. “Pulling out all the stops?”

  I wave her off. “It’s the least I can do. Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

  She shakes her head. “Cypress isn’t a big town. Avoiding one another and making things more awkward than they need to be is ridiculous. We’ve never been enemies. This is about seeing if we can actually be real friends again.”

  I shove my hands in the pockets of my blue jeans. “Fair enough. Please ignore the mess spilling over in places. I’m still attempting to move in.”

  “Not a problem.”

  We move to the espresso-colored wood bar top table and take our seats. Seated across from the closest thing I have to a sister next to Fel, I’m at a loss for words. I force myself to chew and drink as my mind spins. The ball is in my court.

  “I don’t even know where to start,” I admit.

  “An explanation would be nice.” Sarcasm drips from her words like poison from a candy apple.

  “I’ll try. But I don’t know if you’ll understand it. I’m still trying to process it. I always knew what Cristobal was. I thought I understood what that meant for us. Until the moment I realized I didn’t at all. I won’t go into details because those belong between the two us.” My voice warbles. This is the first time I’ve spoken about it to anyone in detail. “Suffice to say, by the time the light bulb went off, I was past being over my head and drowning in the deep waters. I wondered if I ever truly knew him. I was young and stupid, so I ran scared. I didn’t think beyond escape and space. The first few weeks on the road were hell. I looked for him in every face, dark corner, and though he wasn’t there physically he remained in my thoughts. It was a lonely, painful process.”

  “If he hurt you …” Fire flickers in her gaze.

  “I hurt myself. I went into a magical withdrawal. Being cut off from the very source that created me ate me up.”

  “Why the hell would you do that?” she whispers, her expression looking pained. “Disconnecting that way would be like a death of sorts.”

  “Yes.” I nod my head in agreement, remembering the incredible silence that came from tuning out nature and the vibrations with a powerful spell, the last one I did for years. “You’ll understand why I had to keep my distance for an undetermined amount of time. Like an addict, being around it would make me want to use again.”

  “Why?”

  “Have you ever doubted all of this?”

  Taking a bite of her chip, she shakes her head. “All of what?”

  “The family legacy, responsibilities, and magic wielding.”

  Her lips turn down. “Magic is who we are, not what we do.”

  “And if your magic betrayed you, would you continue to believe so blindly? If it led you so far away from the path of light, you could never fully return from the darkness?”

  “Did you do dark magic?”

  “No, and yet, the darkness was everywhere I looked in my visions of Cypress.” My throat swells. “Every possible scenario was unacceptable. The things I saw …” I shake my head, unwilling to go into detail.

  “You removed yourself to ensure they didn’t come true.”

  “It greatly factored into my leaving. I couldn’t risk it. I was too emotional to extract fact from fear, and gauge how much my emotional state was interfering with my magic. I was young and still learning.”

  “Why not ask for help, or at least tell me? Haven’t I always been by your side?” The wounded look in her eyes slays me.

  “You have, but it wasn’t about you. I wanted to hold on to the tattered remains of my pride. God, the embarrassment and shame that came with the thought of admitting I was wrong after I ignored everyone’s warning felt like a noose around my neck.”

  “Jesus, Lou.”

  I glance down, focusing at a groove in the wood. “I know.”

  “And now, what?”

  “I’m trying to find my balance.”

  “And Cris?”

  “Will always be a part of me.”

  Her brow furrows. “A part of you— Oh. My. God.” She covers her mouth. “Are you two …”

  I give a curt nod. The news will come out soon enough.

  “Whoa.”

  “Understatement.”

  She chuckles. “Man, when you screw the pooch, you go big.”

  “I appreciate your sympathy.” I roll my eyes.

  She grins, revealing the tiny gap between her front teeth. “Just keeping it real. So, how sorry are you anyway?”

  “Very?” I say, unsure where she’s going with the question.

  “I need backup for a job, and you’d be incredibly helpful.”

  “Are you dealing with vamps?”

  “Nah, Weres of the lupine variety, henceforth a woman being way less opposing in their alpha environment.”

  “I get it, but I’m shocked your family isn’t sending one of the boys.”

  “Yeah, about them … I’ve been branching out solo recently.”

  My jaw drops. She’s the Morel princess. Despite her skill and strength, they’ve always taken precautions with her. “Do they know you’re doing this?”

  “Believe me, they do,” she mumbles.

  “Sacha Belle, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “My parents and I had a disagreement.” She shrugs. “I decided to go solo, once they cut me off.”

  “What? Where are you living?”

  “In a basic and bland one-bedroom apartment in Willow Parish.”

  “What the hell happened?” I ask, unable to imagine them going to such great lengths to prove a point.

  She shakes her head, the lights from the track lighting above causing the blonde to stand out. “They wanted me to be the princess in the tower, and I wanted to be a dragon slayer. We’ve always held a tentative truce when it came to my future. It worked until they tried to push me into an arranged marriage with a Dupeux to keep the magical bloodlines strong and pure. I put my foot down, because one, if I marry, it’ll be for love, and two, can you imagine me saddled to one of those chauvinistic bastards? I’d cut his dick off and feed it to him.”

  I snicker. “Yeah, you would.”

  She scowls. “That family needs to come out of the dark ages. Between their racial prejudices, belief that they’re God’s gift to humanity, and inability to adapt to modernization, they’re in danger of extinction eventually.”

  “We’re down to four main families as it is. The Blanchards may be neutral enough to marry with them, if nothing else,” I say.

  She rolls her eyes. “Not if they’re smart.”

  “I can’t believe they did that, Sach.”

  “You’ve no idea how lucky you are that you come from a matriarchal family.”

  “Are you okay?” I ask
softly.

  “Most days. Other times, I feel as if I haven’t a friend in the world. So despite the fact that I’m still pissed at you, I happily accept your offer to reconnect. ’Cause, let’s face it, you’re my sister, and family means forgiveness.”

  I slump in my chair. We’ve got a lot of repairing to do, but the first hurdle has been jumped.

  “Are you attached to the studio?”

  She wrinkles her nose. I laugh. “Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Move in here with me. We’ve always wanted to be roomies, and I could use the help halving up bills.”

  “I won’t take pity from anyone, Louella.”

  “Sacha. I need this just as much as you do. I left behind the life I’d built, a business I love, and friends to come home to a family squabbling over power and resenting me for being next in line for the throne.”

  “Did Mémé name you?” She leans in to the table.

  “Not officially, but she’s made her intentions known. It’s a matter of time before it’s announced officially.”

  Sacha whistles. “Came home to a hurricane, didn’t you?”

  “Don’t sound so happy about it.”

  She grins, causing her hazel-colored eyes to sparkle. “I’m not happy about it, roomie. I’m observing the irony of karma.”

  “Wench.” There’s no bite to my word, and she winks.

  “I’ll help you clean up, and we’ll go.” We fall into an easy rhythm as we clean. Things are far from okay, but this is a start.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m riding shotgun and feeling an intense case of nostalgia. We’d taken many a trip along these roads as teenagers. Cypress isn’t a happening town by any stretch of the imagination. We spent hours wasting gas driving and dreaming of life when we grew up.

  I turn slightly in my seat to take in her profile. “Tell me more about this case.”

  “It’s more of a domestic dispute than anything else. The Alpha’s son, Phoenix, fancies himself in love with a Romani girl. Daddy swears he must be bewitched.”