To Seduce a Witch's Heart

by Nadine Mutas

  Lily flinched at the warning from her aunt, and sank more deeply into the cushion of the couch. Her hands trembled as she picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, holding it front of her as if hiding behind it. Hazel took a seat next to Lily, putting her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. Merle, however, was beyond caring about consequences at that point. The power she just tapped still coursed through her veins, and it gave her a sense of strength and confidence to withstand the kind of intimidation she’d have cowered away from before.

  So when Isabel began to tell Merle what awaited her for her disobedience, Merle cut her off grimly.

  “You should be ashamed of your hypocrisy,” she said, holding her Elder’s gaze steady.

  Lily stifled her gasp by clapping her hand over her mouth.

  Isabel leaned forward, her eyes on Merle. Power swirled in the indigo depths. “That is a strong word to use.”

  “Fitting, though,” Merle shot back, “when you’d rather persecute me for trying to save my sister from a demon than investigate the involvement of one of your own in the abduction.”

  There was the slightest flicker of grief in Isabel’s eyes, and Merle picked it up relentlessly.

  “How can you sit here condemning me, when you lost your daughters same as I am about to lose Maeve?”

  Her words hit home. Something broke in Isabel’s eyes, and for a moment, just a tiny moment, Merle felt miserable about mentioning the violent deaths of Isabel’s three daughters—each of them brutally slain by demons. The most recent loss—Vicky, the youngest one, full of laughter and energy at the age of twenty-two, until she’d been stripped of her skin by a vindictive demon—was still a raw, open wound to the Murray family. It had only been six months since her remains had been laid to rest next to her sisters, a macabre final reunion of siblings who had shared as much in life as in death.

  Merle had grieved for each of them just as much as Lily and Basil—they had been her cousins in all but blood.

  Now she swallowed past the lump in her throat, breathed through the weight crushing her chest, and pushed on, determined to make her point. Still staring at Isabel with heat in her veins, she said, “You’d have done the same as I did if it was one of your daughters in Maeve’s place. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t go against the gods themselves to save her!”

  For a long moment, Isabel was silent, her eyes looking inward. When she met Merle’s gaze again, she gave her a smile that broke her heart. “What I want,” the Elder said, her voice so quiet and full of regret, “and what our law allows me to do are not always in accordance.”

  Merle’s temper boiled over. “Fuck the law!”

  Isabel’s gaze sharpened, would have shriveled a lesser witch. “Watch your mouth, Merle.”

  The chandelier’s lights flickered, dimmed, and the air grew thick with menacing magic. A few seconds ticked by. The Elder witch took a breath, obviously trying to get a hold on her own temper, and picked up her cup of tea. She took a long sip from it and set it down again. Each of her movements was careful and measured now—being able to put a lid on a flaring temper and a power such as hers was another one of the characteristics making Isabel an Elder witch. She now took another deep breath, and looked at Merle. “You will bind that demon in the Shadows as soon as you’ve recovered your full strength.” Her voice brooked no argument.

  At the mention of Rhun, Merle’s heart skipped a few beats and then took up a frantic rhythm.

  “Isabel,” Hazel said, her voice gentle. “Perhaps we should consider using the demon to find—”

  The look Isabel shot at her made Hazel’s words wither. “Are you questioning your Elders’ decision?”

  Hazel held her older sister’s gaze for the span of two heartbeats, before she lowered her head in deference to the head of her family. “Of course not.”

  Isabel nodded, took another sip from her tea, and turned back to Merle. “We’d have bound the demon again already, but since he’s still partly leashed to you, only you can send him back.” She was about to say something else as she gagged, grabbed her throat, coughed, and then slumped down face-first on the coffee table as if someone had turned the lights off in her head.

  Merle shot to her feet. “What the..?”

  Lily gingerly rose from the couch and threw a sheepish glance at her motionless aunt, who now snored softly. “I am so screwed.”

  Merle gaped at Lily. “You did that? You jinxed Isabel?”

  At that, Lily winced and grimaced. “Boy, she’s going to be pissed when she wakes up.”

  “Language, sweetie.” Hazel stood and gave Lily a stern glance.

  “Sorry, Mom.” Lily Murray’s trademark evil grin snuck onto her lips the next moment, though, and she shrugged. “It was her mistake to let me prepare the tea, though. And you have to admit, she really had it coming.”

  Merle gaped some more, this time at Hazel, who had checked on Isabel, to make sure she was out like a light. “You’re in on it, too?”

  Lily’s mom came over to Merle, took her hand and squeezed. Fine white lines of strain bracketed her mouth, and her eyes shimmered. “Just bring Maeve back.”

  “I will,” Merle said, her voice cracking, her throat closing up.

  Lily stepped between them, made shooing gestures toward the hallway. “Now hurry, it won’t hold up for long, and you gotta get out of here before Juneau comes back or sends someone else over to check on my ‘won’t-be-made-a-fool-of-again’ unreliable aunt.”

  Merle sucked in a breath. “You did that, too, didn’t you? You lured Juneau away?”

  “Not me—Baz.” Lily’s eyes danced. “He might not have any magic, but he sure can conjure up some trouble of his own when he puts his mind to it.”

  “What did he do?”

  Lily closed her eyes and waved the question away. “You don’t wanna know. Really.”

  Merle stared at her for a second before she gave her a crushing hug. “Thank you.”

  “All right, all right,” Lily choked out even as she squeezed Merle back. “Enough with the physical abuse. Get out and kick some demon butt already.”

  At that, Merle’s gut clenched tight. “Where’s Rhun?”

  “They put him in the basement,” Hazel said. “The holding room.”

  When Merle wanted to bolt straight down, Lily held her back with a hand on her shoulder and a solemn, searching look. “You’re only using him to find Maeve, right?” There was a deeper understanding in the grave tone of her voice, as well as a warning. “After that you’ll bind him again.” Those dark blue eyes bore into her. “Right?”

  “Right,” Merle said, assuring her friend—and herself. “I’ll bind him again.” She nodded, her throat gone dry, her heart twisted. “Why wouldn’t I?” It was meant to sound light, underscored by a casual smile—only it was her best friend she was trying to fool, and of course she saw straight through it.

  But it was also because Lily was her best friend that she didn’t comment on it, didn’t give Merle a lecture on her situation and what she could and couldn’t do, should or shouldn’t be feeling. She simply hugged her, a tacit reassurance, an unspoken promise. If what you shouldn’t be feeling tears you apart, I’ll be there for you.

  Merle hugged her tightly in return, fighting back her tears. Taking the keys Hazel handed her, she then rushed down to the basement. Fear and worry wove a knot in her stomach, and her heart beat triple time as she fumbled with the lock on the massive door to the dark cell at the end of the basement hallway.

  It had been built to hold evil spirits until they could be dealt with, and the MacKenna residence featured one just like it. Merle had seen—and even put—some otherworld creatures in it over the years, but never, in her wildest thoughts, had she imagined she’d be helping a demon escape from it.

  The door swung inward with a creak, and the scant light from the hallway fell upon a slumped shape on the floor. Merle’s heart stopped beating, pierced, crushed.

  He was manacled to the wall, the shackles infused wit
h magic subduing his powers, draining his energy, leaving him defenseless. A low moan of agony rose from his throat, and it tore at Merle as if someone had started to pull out her guts. Within a second, she was at his side.

  “Rhun.”

  His head snapped up from his chest, his gaze homed in on her face, and in the blink of an eye, his whole attitude changed. All apparent agony left him, shrugged off like a coat, and a dazzling smile lit up his features. “Little witch.” He inched closer to her, as much as he could. “Missed me?”

  Merle stopped short. “You’re not hurt?”

  He snorted. “ ’Course not. Takes more than a bit of pathetic spell-casting to break me.”

  The relief washing over her scared her with its intensity. “I thought you… You looked injured when I came in.” She undid the manacles, using the keys and the proper spells to release him.

  “Ah, well,” he said, “I didn’t know it was you at first, and I wanted to be a good sport and play along with your witch friends. They’d be so terribly disappointed if they knew they didn’t hurt me.” He winked at her, playful, completely at ease, as if he hadn’t just escaped torture and incarceration.

  As Merle undid the last shackle, she started thinking the whole situation was nothing but a joke to him—when he cupped her face with both freed hands and gave her a kiss that left her breathless. His thumbs stroking over her cheeks, he then studied her so intently, it made her quiver inside.

  “Are you all right, Merle?” His tone was low with a kind of need that scraped over her skin, a protective urgency that touched her even deeper.

  All she could do was nod. There was no voice left in her.

  Rhun still stared at her as if he wanted to drink her in. His aura was a contained explosion of dark violence, streaked with a tenderness that could unhinge. “Did they do anything to you?”

  She shook her head, acutely aware of the heat of his palms on her skin.

  “Good.” He claimed her mouth again, and her world tilted sideways. “Then let’s get out of here, little witch of mine,” he murmured against her lips.

  They hurried up the stairs and down the hallway toward the front door, where Lily and Hazel waited for them. On their way past the living room, Rhun stopped short in his tracks, staring through the open doorway. Merle followed his gaze to the figure of Isabel, still sprawled face-down on the coffee table, snoring. Rhun cocked an eyebrow at the sight.

  “Don’t ask,” Merle muttered and pulled him forward.

  He dug in his heels, looked at her and pointed with a thumb over his shoulder at Isabel. “May I take pain from her?”

  “Rhun!”

  “What? I’m hungry!”

  “We don’t have time for that!”

  At that, he smiled and let her drag him on. “Ah, so you’d let me feed from her if we had more time? Let me break a few bones?”

  Merle shook her head. “Don’t even go there.”

  “Why not?” He draped one arm around her shoulders as he walked, leaned down to whisper in her ear, his breath sensually hot. “You could break some of her bones, too. I know you want to.”

  Merle was glad they arrived at the front door and faced a suspicious-looking Lily and a curious Hazel at that moment, saving her from commenting on Rhun’s suggestion. Because—gods knew—she did want to break some Elder bones, which was, however, a notion that made her extremely uncomfortable.

  Hazel hugged Merle goodbye, eyed Rhun warily, and then ushered them out toward the car idling in the driveway. “Go, I’ll hold up here. I’ll make sure to send the Elders in the wrong direction when they go searching for you.”

  Merle thanked her from the bottom of her heart, and followed Lily and Rhun to the car. As they approached, Basil rose from his leaning position on the hood and enfolded Merle in a warm hug.

  “You okay, sweetie?” he asked into her hair.

  “Yeah. Thanks. What about you?”

  “I’m fine.” His sunny nature gleamed in his eyes.

  She returned his smile and gave him a peck on his cheek. Merle had never had a problem being close to Basil without anything sexual getting in the way—he was too much of a brother to her, and she knew he saw her as a sister by choice, too. To the outside world, however, their interactions could sometimes seem like intimacies, a fact Merle all too often forgot until she saw other people’s reactions to them.

  Like now, for example, when the blunt force of a seething demon’s aura brushed up against her back like a wall of heat. She turned to see Rhun staring at Basil over her head with an expression just short of murderous.

  “Jerkface,” Basil said politely, as if greeting an acquaintance by his name.

  “Dickwad,” Rhun returned just as politely, inclining his head in mock-respect. His eyes, however, shot daggers at the other male.

  Merle rubbed her forehead, choosing not to comment on the display of testosterone in front of her.

  “Let’s go, chop-chop,” Lily said, already opening the door on the passenger side. “You can compare the size of your manly parts later.”

  “I’m really sorry, man,” Rhun said to Basil just as he and Merle were turning to the car.

  They both stopped and stared at Rhun in surprised confusion.

  Basil frowned. “About what?”

  Rhun waved a hand in the general direction of Basil’s head. “About…you know.” He stopped short and grimaced. “Oh, wait. That is your face.”

  Merle had to jump in between them to keep Basil from lunging at Rhun. Holding them apart with one hand on Basil’s chest, the other on Rhun’s, she turned to her personal demon and hissed, “Get in the car. Now.”

  “Yes, honey-bun,” Rhun chirped, his eyes fixed on Basil. Leaning forward, he then grasped the back of Merle’s neck and placed an openly possessive kiss on her lips before she got the chance to slap the hell out of him. And once his viciously talented tongue slipped in and claimed her mouth with maddening strokes and licks, Merle couldn’t do much more than soften against him. Her brain had effectively been turned to spaghetti.

  When Rhun let her go with that arrogant smirk of his and sauntered over to the car, she stumbled. Damn sneaky demon.

  “Hell no.” Basil’s hand slammed down on the sedan’s roof when Rhun was about to slide into the driver’s seat. “You’re not driving my car, demon. Get in the back.”

  Rhun didn’t budge an inch, his hand on the open door, and he stared at Basil with calm menace. “I don’t take orders from you, Blondie. Only my witch gets to order me around, and only when we’re not in bed. Or up against a wall. Or wrestling on a staircase. Or naked on the couch…” He waved a hand. “You get the picture.”

  Basil looked as if something had gotten stuck in his throat, Lily sucked in a breath, and Merle desperately wanted to merge with the concrete underneath her feet. The heat in her face could have rivaled a furnace.

  “Rhun, get in the backseat,” she ground out, staring at a point past him, mortified.

  “Why, of course, my dearest love.”

  The endearment hit her straight in the chest and burrowed deep into the place where she harbored a silent, desperate hope, one she knew would be crushed sooner or later. She didn’t want his words touching her so deeply, especially when they were so clearly spoken with the intent to taunt, when she burned with anger at the way he’d embarrassed her in front of her friends just now.

  Gritting her teeth, she slid into the backseat next to Rhun while Basil and Lily got in the front. As they drove off, Rhun slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side with a casual, proprietary move. It set her teeth on edge and melted something inside her at the same time.

  Any attempt to draw away from him or even get him to remove his arm resulted in a kiss from him, first one on the top of her head, then one on her temple, the next one on the spot between her brows. When he’d reached the tip of her nose, she decided she’d rather give up fighting before he got to her mouth. Because if he kissed her now, her anger would evaporate in a
surge of mushy feelings, and—dammit—she needed to hold on to that anger. It was the only thing standing between her and an avalanche of emotions that would tear her apart.

  Rhun made an appreciative sound when he realized she’d stopped trying to get away from him, and now he nuzzled her hair. “May I take pain from him?” he asked for her ears only, indicating Basil.

  “No!” Merle hissed.

  “But he’s asking for it.”

  “Basil’s a friend and he’s helping us,” she whispered. “What is wrong with you?”

  “I’m hungry! I get cranky when I’m hungry!”

  Lily cleared her throat. “Sorry to interrupt the demon’s whining, but I thought I’d let you know I found out how to break the blocking spell.”

  Merle’s whole body went taut and she leaned forward, her pulse picking up speed. “How?”

  The small silence from Lily didn’t bode well. “There is a ritual you can do.”

  “But?” Merle knew there was a but. There was always a godsdamn but.

  “To do that, you need to know the identity of the one who cast the blocking spell.”

  The ensuing silence was so heavy it pressed on Merle’s every cell. She closed her eyes and leaned back, into the heat of Rhun, and when he wound his arm around her again, his hand coming to rest above her heartbeat, she didn’t fight it at all. A part of her welcomed it, sighed in relish, and wanted to snuggle closer, even as another part of her still wanted to break off Rhun’s arm and then some.

  “So,” she said at last, speaking into the tense quiet while trying to ignore Rhun’s hand stroking her skin, comforting her, “we’re back to square one, then.” Finding out which Elder witch had cast the blocking spell would take even longer than finding out how to break the spell in the first place. In fact, it might just prove impossible to gather that kind of information, since they didn’t even have a starting point. They knew nothing about the origin of the spell, so they couldn’t trace it. Merle hadn’t even seen it with her own eyes, wasn’t able to recognize the individual brand of magic used.

  They had run into a dead end.