The Witch's Heart (The Rise of Orion Book 2)

by J. M. Davies

  “Is it safe to talk here?” Marcus inspected the lights and cupboards, wondering whether the place was bugged.

  “Yes, I have had this place scrubbed clean, but follow me.” Steel rubbed his chin. The waves on his forehead elongated. He strode through the large kitchen and Marcus followed out through a side door.

  Once in the corridor, Marcus walked down the carpeted hallway that led into an impressive fully stocked library. It was positioned right at the back of the house, overlooking the wild turquoise ocean. Once inside, Steel closed the door behind him and sighed. Bookcases filled the walls and the lingering smell of cigar smoke filtered over him. Marcus snapped his gaze back on Steel, who moved to his large walnut desk and removed a small cigar case. He lifted the lid and offered it to Marcus.

  Inside, there was an impressive selection of high-quality cigars. He grabbed a fat Partagas and rolled it between his finger and thumb. When Steel flicked a flame in front of him, he popped the cigar in his mouth and sucked, lighting the smoke. Puffs of cigar smoke plumed around him. Geez, he’d quit smoking over a year ago but inhaling the scent and blowing the smoke out relaxed the tension in his shoulders.

  “I would pour some drinks, but I’ve a feeling I need to keep a clear head while you tell me what the fuck this is all about. You know, before you start, when the medics found Ella, they thought she was dead. Her body felt ice-cold. Her skin looked mottled, like a corpse. I have pictures if you would like to see?”

  Marcus glared at Steel, attempting to batten down the mounting rage that churned around in his guts. The idea of anyone seeing his Ella naked, let alone vulnerable in such a way, made the pulse in his neck throb as if it would rupture. He pulled on the cigar and blew out a big circle of smoke to release some of his fury. Holding the cigar between his fingers stopped him from throttling his boss.

  “I want to see them all,” he snarled.

  Steel pulled open his drawer and removed a beige file, which he slid across the desk.

  Marcus spread his hand over the file and kept it there, not willing to look at the pictures yet. “Yes, Ella is different, but hell, Steel, you knew that. Else, why the fuck would you recruit someone as unfit as she is? She isn’t trained. She isn’t military. She has no experience what so fucking ever in the field. She’s unpredictable.”

  They analyzed each other until Steel flared his nostrils and blew out a wide circle of smoke. “She’d be pissed at your assessment of her skills—I can tell you that for nothing, Drayton. Stop telling me what she isn’t and start with what she is. I do have a team out there that requires support and attention.”

  His boss fixed him with that stare that told him he knew more than he was letting on. It was also the second time Steel insinuated he knew Ella better than he did and it grated on his nerves.

  “Do you know what reincarnation is…?” Marcus stopped and waited for Steel to give him crap. Instead, his boss sat there, expressionless. It was either dive in deep and reveal everything or walk away.

  “Christ, Drayton, just spit it out.”

  “We’re soul-shifters born to the clan of Ariana, the moon goddess. We have existed inside other bodies before, and when we died, we were reborn into another life. Ella and I are bonded together, which is why I feel so fucking protective of her all the time.”

  Once Marcus started, he recounted their past, and explained their conjoined history. He went into detail about how he was mated to Ella, and how the cycle of the moon affected her, almost as if he wanted him to know she was his forever. Finally, he revealed how in each life Ella had been tortured.

  Steel’s face remained rigid like stone as he puffed away on his cigar. He listened and observed, not showing any emotion. The only flicker or change in his demeanor was when Marcus recounted how Ella suffered, to which Steel pulled on his bushy moustache. Talking about Ella being hurt over and over made Marcus wonder how she was the loving and giving woman that she was. For a moment, he was lost in his own words, thinking about her.

  “So you’re a male witch?” Steel crushed the remains of his cigar in the ashtray. His eyes pinned Marcus with his unwavering directness.

  “Steel, have you listened to anything I just said? We’re not witches. Ella was hung as a witch in the sixteenth century and that title has followed her ever since because most people are ignorant about our kind. We’re not casters, shifters, vampires, or werewolves. I cannot perform a spell. Ella is gifted, like you said; she’s a healer and I’ve been told I have the gift, like my mother—seeing a possible future. And before you say anything, eighteen months ago, I wouldn’t have believed any of this either. But that wit—”

  Steel smiled a broad smile that Marcus didn’t like any more than his rigid facade. He had been about to say witch, and he knew as he narrowed his gaze at Steel, the man knew it. Steel brushed his moustache between his fingers.

  “Like it or not, Ella does seem to cast a spell over people. That nickname has followed her for a reason. Even though it must haunt her. You’ve judged me wrong. I know this world is full of individuals who don’t quite fit the average human mold. That has never bothered me. Ever. All I’m interested in is reaching the goal. To protect those who need our help. To bring those responsible to justice when the system doesn’t. You’re right in thinking I wanted Ella on my team because I recognize talented individuals. As for her not being fully trained, she’s as determined as any man I have ever worked with to get the job done. She’s a warrior through and through. She’s got grit, integrity, and is without question a courageous and beautiful woman. Ella is not the fragile flower you paint. She has gifts way beyond what you speak. Look at her. Really look at her.”

  Marcus listened to Steel and observed the man’s strong face, which softened with clear admiration as he talked about his wife. Shit, she didn’t just cast her spell over him. He knew already half his team were in love with her feisty spunk. He stamped out his cigar and fell back in his seat, searching around the neat study. He noted the many books lining the built-in white shelves. The rich ruby rug, cozy brick fireplace and smell of expensive cigars that filled the room. Man, Steel had money. He wondered about what that meant exactly. Who was his boss?

  He sat up straight and pressed his hands on the desk as if to stop himself from reaching across the desk and grabbing Steel’s throat. “Is that tracking device yours? You have the money, the contacts. You didn’t seem at all fazed when I showed you earlier. Are you connected to the Elusti?”

  Steel sat back and leaned his elbows on either side of his chair, which creaked as it moved. He laced his hands together and peered thoughtfully at Marcus for several moments before he spoke. “Look, I own Orion, but there’s a secret team within the government who invest in us called The Watchmen. They’re very aware of the Elusti’s name and reach. They are concerned there’s a secret war being played. The sides of which aren’t clear. To be blunt they help us and have been interested—shall we say—in gifted individuals who have over time captured their attention. I see your mind’s working overtime. You knew I had a personal reason to create this team, even if you don’t know the specifics. Orion tackles enemies like the Elusti and anyone who threatens Earth. We’re committed to ensuring that all who dwell here with the intention of maintaining peace are safe.”

  Marcus sat up straight in the chair. He had wondered whether there were others sympathetic to Orion’s cause.

  Steel continued. “I need individuals with extraordinary talents. I want them on my side. I want the edge against our adversaries. No, that tag isn’t mine. I wish it was. The truth is, I’ve been working on a similar implant but the size makes them slippery little buggers. The battery doesn’t last and at the moment we can’t get it to work. We don’t even know if this one works yet. What we do know is that we are always chasing after the Elusti. We need to know in advance. I’ll get my team to take this chip apart and run a full diagnostics on it. At the very least, we will have a lead on the manufacturer or supplier and hell, we may even be able to reproduce
it. It’s a start. My other concern, one of many right now, is the same as yours. We have a security issue. Here on the base. I have instructed a select team to go through the security footage and we’ll sweep your place for bugs.”

  Observing Steel, he knew even though they had differences, underneath it all, he trusted his boss and damn it, he had known all along they were different. Satisfied with what he had heard, he stood to leave.

  “Thank you. Not that Ella is returning there any time soon.” He twisted to head for the door. He had to get to Jake and the doctor they had been interrogating.

  “So I understand. Look, I’m happy to have her stay here. She mentioned the situation at home, and as a temporary solution to keep her close—to keep her here—I offered her the guest room,” Steel said in his gruff voice.

  Marcus’s heart squeezed tight. Raising his head toward the ceiling, he wondered whether this day could get any fucking worse.

  “You didn’t know,” Steel said, his voice softer.

  “Nope.”

  His heart ached at Ella’s reluctance to confide in him, but instead of reacting with violence as he wanted, he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jake drove fast, weaving in and out of the late morning traffic on 93 as they approached the turn-off for Boston and talking through his headset to his boss.

  “Just keep him awake until I get there. Don’t—I repeat—don’t touch him,” Drayton said.

  He flicked a glance over at Isabella to find her huge emerald eyes watching him. The vivid green shade captivated and drew you in with one glance. He couldn’t stop staring at her. Shifting his focus back to the road, he swerved to avoid a car he was dangerously close to.

  “Shit,” he cursed.

  “That about sums up your driving skills. Keep your eyes on the road, Jake. I want to see what this scumbag doctor has to say,” Isabella said, her voice clipped and brusque.

  Jake wanted to steal another look at her, but feared to do so would risk them not arriving at the warehouse at all. Since he had picked the gorgeous and sexy Isabella up, she had been as prickly as a cactus. Immediately, she launched into his beaten-up appearance, to which he shrugged and said it came with the job.

  God, he would never understand women. Did she believe wars were avoided without a fight? In his experience, wars were avoided when the perceived threat was greater than the gain; that took action, sometimes deadly. Shit, working for Orion was the same. There was always a threat out there. Was she ready to fight, if she needed to? Damn it, he should know this before hopping in a truck on a mission with such an angel-faced innocent. He shook his head to concentrate. Like Drayton, he didn’t have relationships and didn’t discuss his feelings with anyone. He had sex, and rarely with the same woman twice. He didn’t believe he was as bad as Drayton, who had been a cold bastard before Ella. With Isabella, even though he knew he shouldn’t go there, something about her snared him like a rabbit in a trap. He couldn’t break free of the sensation that she had control over him, as if under a magical spell all the time. Those damn eyes.

  “Jake, you missed the turn. For God’s sake, do you want me to drive?”

  He cursed under his breath again. She also didn’t give an inch. For all her soft curves, she had a bite, and sooner or later he was going to sink his teeth in and taste her. He set his mind on it. Swiping a sideways glance at her gorgeous face and flame-red hair, he navigated the Jeep in the correct direction as the GPS rerouted them toward Boston Street. He closed off his thoughts to the beautiful Isabella, determined to gain some information from the butcher who had tortured one of their own. He ground his teeth together. Focus.

  Ten minutes later, reaching the location, he pulled up into the barren parking lot, noticing only one other vehicle tucked in the corner—the team’s. As he exited the Jeep, the heat of the city caught him and he removed his jacket, stashing it in the car. The busy traffic swooshed past and horns blared from the traffic. The hum of the city beat down upon him. Giving a quick sweep around the beaten and derelict brick buildings, and happy that they were clear, he strode forward into the deserted warehouse. Steel had contacts in the city. The doctor had seen Ella’s picture on the local television channel and, shocked that she was alive, felt compelled to talk. The man walked into the local police station and when Ella’s name was pulled up, a flag was set, leading directly to Steel. This was the place for some plain talking. Jake talked through his headset to the rest of his team, who were already in position.

  “Bear, we’re a minute away. Where the hell are you? This is a big fucking warehouse. Too many windows. Lots of overlooking buildings—this isn’t a secure location by a long shot.”

  He pushed the enormous metal sliding door aside and let Isabella step in. He slammed the lock behind them and pushed her to the side as he observed the enclosed and sprawling vicinity, aware of their lack of protection. A sudden fear for her safety knocked him off-balance. Shit, he didn’t even know whether she had a gun or could shoot. He stopped and pulled her roughly to his chest.

  “Are you armed?” he whispered against her cheek, sniffing the peach scent in her hair.

  “Jake, you’re hurting me. Of course, I’m armed. I’m not fucking arm candy. I’m part of the team. I would never head into a risky situation without a weapon.”

  He flicked his gaze over her pouty mouth and over her face, resting on her eyes that sparkled like emeralds. A corner of his mouth lifted at her spunk. God, he couldn’t control the desire and need to take her to bed, where she could bring whatever weapons she wanted.

  “Music to my ears, sweetness. I’m not into babysitting.”

  He lay an innocent kiss on the tip of her nose and she shoved his chest away.

  “Stop that, and I don’t need to be looked after.”

  Good, he thought. But even so, with her here, he wouldn’t be able to stop watching her to ensure she was safe. That was asking for trouble. She was driving him toward the brink, but he nodded at her and touched his headset as one of his teammates yelled in his ear.

  “Where the fuck are you, asshole?”

  “Shadow, we’re right outside.”

  He eased his hold of Isabella, but caught her elbow and pushed her ahead while he skimmed the perimeter. The old warehouse was the size of a small mall. The ceilings were high, and the walls faded brick. Huge windows ran the length of the one-hundred-foot building with multiple broken panels but most were covered in thick dust. There was grime everywhere, as well as discarded crates, broken furniture, huge pieces of ancient machinery, and a long conveyor belt winding around and looping into another room.

  Wanting to get this over and done with, he headed toward the main office to the left, where he could see his team through the clear paneled window. Jake pushed the office door wide and stepped inside. The room looked cleaner than the rest of the building. There was a long wooden desk and behind it a swivel chair, with filing cabinets along the side wall. The walls contained myriad naked women in suggestive poses and worksheets. Invoices and order sheets were pinned on boards. It looked in recent use.

  “Where’s the butcher?” Jake glanced at Bear, who sat in the chair with his feet propped up on the table. Jake pushed his feet down and leaned over him.

  “That weasel is in the back room. I couldn’t take his tears, man.”

  Bear was a huge man in width and height. It was all muscle too. No one messed with him. Ever.

  Jake swept his glance over at Shadow. “Any intel from him about the professor?”

  Shadow was checking the load in his weapon and watching out through the window, always ready and waiting.

  “Not a fucking word—just shaking in his boots. Hey, Isabella, you have the hots for our homeboy here? ’Cos he sure has the hots for you. If you don’t already know, that is.”

  Jake launched himself at Shadow, thumping his chest, but he shoved him hard.

  “Asshole, your woman has already gone.”

  Hearing that Isa
bella had left the room in search of the butcher brought him back to his senses. He released Shadow, shook his head and darted after the bloody woman who was going to get a piece of his mind—as well as other parts of his anatomy soon. Through the office was a short hallway with a door at the end. He could hear Isabella’s voice. He raced toward the door, pushing it open and shutting it behind him. In a wooden chair in the center of the badly lit room was a man of medium build, blindfolded, with his hands strapped behind him. His feet were secured with plastic tags, and his shirt was bloodstained in the front.

  “What the fuck, Isabella? You. Do. Not. Leave. My. Side. Understood?”

  Isabella glared back at him with her red hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She was dressed in a sleeveless tank that outlined her ample breasts and soft-brown cargo pants. To complete the outfit, she wore a pair of black military-styled boots that came to her knees. She was not your soft feminine type and that was mighty fine with him. Even so, she needed to know who was the boss, but for now, he would let her play. Watching her, all five foot six inches, turned him on. She was slim but had curves in all the right places. He ran his eyes slowly over every delectable inch that he intended to explore and conquer soon.

  She leaned over the man and lifted his blindfold to rest on his forehead. “There you go. All the better to see you now.”

  Jake watched as she strolled around him, stalking the man like prey. Although he was the senior in command here, the one with experience, he let her carry on, wanting to see what she was capable of. Her taking charge made his mouth water. As she walked around in a circle, the man twisted his head to keep an eye on her.

  Jake studied the man’s baby-blue eyes and neat features; even his nails were trimmed short. He bet the slimy man never did a real day’s labor in his privileged life. Isabella held pictures of Ella in front of the man, discussing the condition she was found in. She explained about the nightmares, the pain, and the burial of the baby.