by N. D. Jones
“How did you know my mother is a member of the Council? I never told you. Did she?”
Gods, did the witch think all there was to being a special agent was shifting into a fierce beast and clawing a perp to death?
“Makena is a much stronger witch than I’d initially given her credit for being. She’s also proud and protective of her only child. I can’t see her allowing anyone, not even your governing Council, to make decisions for and about her daughter without an equal voice.”
Not that Assefa could imagine Makena Williams cowing to a decision she didn’t agree with, at least, not when it came to Sanura. But she and Sanura had also managed to contact and warn dozens of witches while he’d hunted the adzes. Only someone with Council connections would be able to work so fast and effectively. He didn’t think Makena ruled the Council, being a judge took up too much of her time for her to do both, but Assefa speculated her position had to be no less than second chair. Probably first, making Makena Williams a political force within the witch community. How far her influence and power extended, Assefa had yet to ascertain.
“When did you surpass your mother in magical ability?”
“Not until I turned twenty-one. In many ways, she’s a better practitioner than I am. I’m more…more…”
“Brute strength,” he offered.
She sighed. “Yeah, that’s as good a descriptor as any. But Mom is all finesse and controlled power.”
Assefa wondered about Sanura’s maternal grandmother. If she was, as he suspected, a powerful witch like her daughter and granddaughter that was even more proof that Sanura was the fire witch of legend. But she had to know that already.
“Anyway, by the time I turned fourteen, I found myself bombarded by pubescent were-cats.”
Assefa almost laughed at her put-upon expression. What had she expected? Sanura was a gorgeous woman. He could only imagine how adorable she had been as a teenager. What red-blooded were-cat wouldn’t have been sniffing around her?
“I guess if I’d had any guy other than Eric as my best friend’s boyfriend, it would’ve taken me longer to realize why so many boys were interested in me.”
“You can’t really blame them, Sanura. When we reach that age, all we can think about are breasts and ass and which girl won’t put a hex on us if we try to kiss her.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a male.”
He winked. “I think I proved that quite thoroughly this morning.”
She blushed. The witch was beyond adorable, and he wanted to cover those rich lips of hers with his. He leaned in to do just that, already tasting the heat of them. But then she said, “Eric overheard a few of the boys talking at lunch.”
That stopped him. “What did they say?”
Briefly, she cast her eyes down and away, before meeting his eyes with the words of, “They said I was Oya reincarnated. That I was a goddess and every goddess needed a loyal cat at her side.”
Not a mean or malicious sentiment. But not what a teenage girl wants to know about the young cats pursuing her.
It all made sense to Assefa now. “And that’s the reason why you’ve only dated full-humans because they don’t know who or what you are. Because such a male could never truly understand you, would never expect more from you than you were willing to give. And a full-human male would only see the human Sanura you revealed to him, not the fire witch of legend to be cherished and worshipped as a goddess instead simply treated as a person, a woman.”
“Yes.” Within that one, three-letter word, Assefa heard the echo of pain and regret. “Assefa, I do know how it feels to be treated as an object, sought after and judged for the wrong reasons. I understand how that can make you leery of others’ intentions and question your own sense of self-worth. I realize how it can make you guarded and how difficult it is to lower the walls you erect around yourself.”
Sanura caressed his cheek with a tenderness Assefa never wanted to live without. “You’re your own man, beloved, and I would never assess your character based on who or what your father is or was. And I want nothing from you other than your heart, which, admittedly, is far more precious and fragile.”
Assefa, rarely at a loss for words, didn’t have a ready or easy reply. The woman had quite effectively silenced him, no small feat. But he could smile, and he did. He had chosen wisely, Assefa Berber, not the gods.
“We have, I realized while showering, too many challenging things in common.”
Too true.
“We’re powerful beyond what is considered normal. We’re stubborn and value our own opinions above that of others. We have trust issues and walls that need dismantling. We—”
“Stop there. It seems you’re listing all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together.”
She undid her seat belt, and then slid close enough to…Sanura kissed him, wet and with a whisper of wantonness. “No, you aren’t contagious, smelly, nor have bad breath. And you can keep your smutty daydream to yourself.”
Assefa grinned. “You were paying attention.”
“I’m a teacher, Special Agent Berber, I know how to multitask.”
Assefa ran his hand up her thigh, inwardly groaning that Sanura had decided, for the first time since they’d met, to wear pants. Oh, all the things I could do to her in the back of the limo if she had one of her sexy skirts on. “If you don’t want to hear it, I could always show you.” His hand found the juncture of her sex. One finger rubbed, searching for the heat he was becoming to know so well.
“Mmm, gods, don’t do that,” Sanura said with a reluctance that stroked Assefa’s ego. “It’ll have to keep.” She pointed to the brick house they were now parked in front of. “We’re here, and we need to be focused.”
“We?” He didn’t understand what he had to do with whatever ritual she had in mind.
Siddig opened the door, and let them out on the curbside of the street.
“I don’t know how long we’ll be here,” Assefa said to his driver, a middle-aged but still dangerous African golden cat. Dahad Siddig was loyal, an expatriate who, like all of Assefa’s household staff, with the exception of Ms. Livingston, had followed him to the States, their allegiance to the man he’d grown into, not to the man-child he’d been at his father’s side.
“Why don’t you use the time to”—Assefa lowered his voice—“visit that wind witch girlfriend of yours you think Zareb and I don’t know about.”
Casting a quick glance in Sanura’s direction, Siddig cleared his throat, dark eyes shining with were-cat anticipation. “Well, umm…I think I might just do that, Mr. Berber.”
“Good, I’ll call you when we’re ready to leave.”
The grateful driver slid back behind the wheel of the limo. Assefa winked at him. “Have fun, Dahab. Take your witch wherever you’d like, on me. Just keep your cell phone close.”
Siddig short nod was enough. The man closed the door and Assefa stepped away from the car. Ignoring the curious onlookers, Assefa watched as Siddig pulled away from the curb and drove down the street, making a left when he reached the bend in the road.
The block the Garvey’s house was located on was pleasant. Cars lined both sides of the one-way street. The front lawns were small but serviceable, and the sounds of laughing children, on bikes and scooters, filled the air.
Assefa smiled as he watched the children play, enjoying the cool spring day. Privately, hoped he and Sanura would someday have children of their own. But that was a wish he knew to keep to himself. She may have forgiven him, but as she’d said, they both had walls. And Sanura, for all that she’d shared in the car, was still hiding behind a wall. Only time would tell if she would willingly tear it down or allow it to keep him from her.
Before Sanura could ring the doorbell, the front door to the Garvey’s home opened. “By the gods, girl, I’m so glad you’re here.” Cynthia’s blue eyes sparkled with a water witch’s determination and a wife’s fear. Saying nothing more, Cynthia grabbed Sanura’s hand and dragged her into the ho
use and up the stairs.
“Okay, I guess I’ll just get the door,” Sanura heard Assefa mumble. Then he followed them, his footfalls nearly inaudible on the wooden steps.
Cynthia led them to the master bedroom. Eric lay curled in a ball on the bed, the green-and-gray sheets in wild ripples around him as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted them on or off. His chest rose and fell with unusual effort, breathing forced, skin pasty, light-brown hair sweaty and matted, eyes closed in a fitful sleep.
“How long has he been like this?” Sanura moved farther into the room, kneeling when she reached the bed and placing a hand on Eric’s trembling chest.
“Almost a day. He thought he could weather it and asked me not to let the family know. After what happened with Gen, I’ve been so preoccupied with taking care of her that I didn’t notice the signs of distress. I should’ve noticed before it got this bad.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sanura tried to soothe. “Eric knows the signs better than anyone. It’s his stubborn and protective nature that kept him from sharing what he views as ‘his burden’ with you.” She raised her eyes from Eric and met Cynthia’s across the bed. “You did the right thing calling me when you did.” Before it was too late. Hope it isn’t already.
Cynthia said nothing, just stood there in her jeans and T-shirt, dreadlocks curled about her face and shoulders. Quite the pretty mid-day Saturday picture she made, the sun shining in through open blinds, illuminating Cynthia’s misty azure eyes.
“Do you have everything I require?” Sanura asked, then glanced around the room, seeing signs that Cynthia done some timesaving prep work.
“Yeah, I keep all the requisite supplies on hand. As you can see, I’ve already sanctified the area. Give me a minute and I’ll go get the stuff.”
Upon entering the room, Sanura had not only noticed a bedridden Eric but white candles placed in the four cardinal points of a chalk-drawn circle. The magical circle she now knelt in.
When Cynthia made her way out of the bedroom, Sanura noticed that Assefa had not only stayed on the other side of the room but that he was silently edging toward the door. “Don’t go. I need you to join me in the circle.”
“This is obviously private. I don’t even know why I’m here. Maybe if you told me his condition, I could let you know if my company’s developed something for the affliction. Beyond medical assistance, I don’t see how I can be of help.”
“If there were ever two people who needed to communicate more than the two of us, I would like to meet them,” she said, smiling, in spite of the serious nature of what lay before them.
She reached out a hand to him. He came, first taking the offer then kneeling beside her. “You’re my familiar now, Assefa, and there’s a lot you need to learn in order for us to perform the level of magic we’re capable of engaging. Do you remember when I said I wasn’t intentionally ignoring you in the car?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I was thinking of several spells I learned from an old grimoire my grandmother gifted me with me on my eighteenth birthday. I memorized all of the spells, years ago. Yet, I’ve had luck with only a few. If we are who everyone seems to believe we are, together we should be able to unlock every spell in that book.”
“I know what I said in the car, Sanura, but what if what we’ve been raised to believe is false? What if we aren’t the chosen ones but mere flukes of nature?”
She’d asked herself the same question. And while she wanted nothing more than to be let off the prophecy hook, Sanura knew Eric needed the power of the fire witch and cat of legend, not the feeble attempt of two above-average “flukes of nature.”
“I don’t know, Assefa. But what we’ll attempt here today will either prove or disprove the legend. I’m sure neither of us wants to experience the Day of Serpents, to be the chosen ones.”
“But for your friend,” he said, nodding to Eric, “you’ll pray that we are.”
Yes, she’d prayed in the car, one life versus that of thousands, maybe millions, if the prophecy came true. It wasn’t rational, she knew. But love and family and loyalty rarely were. That was what Assefa had tried to get her to understand this morning. She didn’t fully then. She did now.
“I have everything you need, Sanura,” Cynthia said, reentering the room, her arms full.
“Are you ready, Assefa?” Sanura asked.
“No, but I suspect that doesn’t really matter.”
His feelings did matter. But, no, she would proceed in spite of his apprehension. I have no real choice.
“Like with the handfasting, I’ll guide you. If we work together, trust each other, we’ll save Eric and free his inner cat.”
They were confidently spoken words, incongruous with the heart that beat far too rapidly and the body that began to sweat. And she knew her familiar could detect it all. But Assefa said nothing. For that bit of silent support, Sanura was grateful. And this time, she wouldn’t let her familiar down. She would be the witch she needed to be. For him. For myself. For Eric and Cynthia.
Sanura took the small basin of water from Cynthia and placed it beside Eric’s bed. She dropped dry lavender blossoms saturated with jasmine and peppermint oils into the oval-shaped bowl. Closing her eyes, she said a silent incantation that caused the water in the bowl to swirl in a counterclockwise direction, imitating the movement of her right hand.
“Do it now, Cyn.”
Cynthia took several cotton hand towels and dipped them in the hot water, soaking them thoroughly. With Assefa’s help, Cynthia managed to lift and remove Eric’s sweaty undershirt, giving her an unobstructed view of his upper torso onto which she placed the towels. Once that task was done, Cynthia covered the wet cloths with two large, dry towels, locking in the heat and moisture.
Sanura rested one hand on Eric’s towel-covered chest and reached her other one out to Assefa.
He took her hand. With that one, unequivocal gesture, Assefa had given her more than she’d ever allowed herself to take from a lover. Absolute trust. Faith.
“What do you need me to do?”
“I need the strength of your Mngwa.”
He cut his eyes to Cynthia, back to Sanura, and then lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “You want me to change here? In front of your friend?”
She stared at him. Gods, the man was funny and undeniably cute when he was being so proper. As if I would ever ask him to get undressed in front of another woman, even Cyn.
“I don’t expect you to make the physical transformation.”
“Then what?”
“My goal is to manipulate the blood that’s clotting his body and force it into a normal, fluid state. I’ll begin with his lungs then move to other parts of his body. Once that’s done, I’ll…” She paused and looked at Cynthia. “I’ll transfer a portion of your chi into Eric. This will strengthen his body, so he can survive the night and the ritual that follows.”
Cynthia’s face registered confusion.
“We can’t keep doing this, Cyn. I’ve been able to keep him alive, for the past two years, but the time between each treatment has gotten shorter.”
Eric and Cynthia had only been married four years. Her friend knew her husband was slowly dying, but like most spouses, she lived in a constant state of denial, the reality being there was little Cynthia could do but watch and pray and temporarily forestall the inevitable.
Death did not have to claim Eric. Maybe they now had a true fighting chance, one that only came along every five hundred years.
“I will explain my plan to the two of you later, but right now I just need you to do as I say and trust I know what I’m doing.”
Sanura had performed the blood-thinning ritual dozens of times, but she’d only ever subjected Eric to level one of the spell. Level three, the more effective and dangerous level, required a strong familiar, which up to a month and a half ago, Sanura did not have. Meaning, Sanura had never actually performed any of the higher-level spells in her grimoire. She fought to shrug off t
he weight of responsibility on her shoulders and the self-doubt riding her like a debilitating omen. Instead, she focused on the power within and the job only she could do.
“This is one hell of a way to test our bond, Sanura.”
She squeezed Assefa’s hand. “I know.” I’m sorry.
Sanura nodded to Cynthia. “If you’re ready, Cyn, take hold of my familiar’s hand then hold the hand of your familiar.”
Cynthia did so, and Sanura completed the circle when she reached for and found Eric’s right hand.
Without saying a word, they all closed their eyes. The longer they held hands, their combined magic began to swirl and form. Sanura felt a familiar wave of water witch magic mere seconds before the unique signature of Cyn’s protective shield formed around them. It was Cynthia’s job to sustain the integrity of her field, no matter what transpired within it and to keep the magical line of communication open between Sanura and Eric. Eric was Cynthia’s familiar, and as such, her bond would be used to open Eric up more fully to the influence of another witch.
Sanura took a deep breath to calm her nerves, then gave her full concentration to the level-three blood-thinning spell. Her grip on Assefa’s left hand tightened as she sent a wave of magical energy through him, testing the strength and preparedness of his aura. They had never done this before. Perhaps if they’d had time to experiment, to learn more about how to work together as a magical team, the bolt of untamed fire energy wouldn’t have hit Assefa so hard, doubling him over in obvious pain.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Assefa gritted his teeth and forced himself to relax and absorb the magic. He tried to remember his teachings from Mistress Kemraha, an elderly priestess assigned to him as a child to help guide him in the mystical ways of his people. She’d taught him all she knew of witches and their familiars, but up until this very moment, he hadn’t had the opportunity to test the validity of most of her teachings. Assefa was a good student, and he learned his lessons well. As Sanura continued to pump more energy into him, he began to recall what to do.