by Eve Langlais
It lasted only a few astonished blinks, then the water receded, leaving a few fish high and dry. Everything else in the section dripped. Utterly soaked, including an astonished Dorothy, who wasn’t supposed to be there.
Who’d used witch powers.
The realization horrified. Not the fact that she could do such a thing, but that others would soon know if they found her. Would know and want to harm her. I couldn’t allow that to happen.
“I think you should go.”
“I—” She looked devastated. I wished I had time to tell her I would handle this. Keep her safe from the consequences. But I couldn’t do that if she didn’t leave.
“Go. Now. Before anyone sees you.”
Only in retrospect did I see how perhaps she might have misconstrued my words.
“You thought I wanted you permanently gone?” I snorted, then chuckled, then grew quiet as I suddenly realized what that misconception meant. “I told you to leave so you wouldn’t be around when the other librarians arrived. If they’d seen you and what had happened…” I shrugged.
Her voice was soft as she said, “You thought I’d be punished for destroying those books.”
“Punished?” I snorted. “We both know they would have killed you for being a witch.” And I wouldn’t allow that to happen.
She stared at me. “You were protecting me. You didn’t actually want me out of your life.”
“What a stupid thing to think,” I blurted, perhaps more vehemently than necessary.
She hung her head. “I might have misunderstood.”
“I’d say that went beyond misunderstanding. I never saw you again.” And had my heart crushed.
Dottie rolled a shoulder. “I was young and freaked-out. You yelled. I reacted.”
“By leaving town that same day?”
“Did I mention I might have overreacted?”
I crossed my arms, not willing to give her a free pass. “I heard you eloped with your sister’s betrothed.”
She winced. “I did. Not one of my wisest decisions, but not the worst. Gerard ended up being a good husband.”
“Well, good for Gerard,” I said with a sneer. It burned to realize that I’d lost her over a silly misunderstanding.
“You’re angry.”
“You thought the worst of me.” I towered over her.
She stretched up on her tiptoes, her eyes still that flashing brilliant green that haunted my memories. “Maybe if you’d not been a dick and said more than basically get out, I would have known.”
“How could you not have known given I worshipped the ground you walked on?”
“You never told me,” Dottie shouted back. “Never once showed me any indication.”
“Like hell, I never showed you. I did everything I could.” In the only way I knew how—by finding special books for her. Mustering the confidence to accept her casual invitations to dinner. Sometimes taking hours to gather the courage.
“Showing me would have been stealing a kiss, or saying, ‘Dottie, I like you. Marry me.’”
“Did you know me at all?” I snapped. Seeing it from her perspective, there was shy, and then there was me. I’d been such a timid fucker back then.
“I did know you, which was why I wasn’t surprised when I thought you were upset about the book and not happy to see me.”
How could she not know that seeing her was always the highlight of my day? And when I lost her… I spent a long time buried in the stacks, learning to come to grips with my new demon self and my broken heart.
“Just so we’re clear,”—I eyed her—“I always wanted to see you. I went to see you that same night actually, but you were already gone.”
That night still haunted me. I’d found out she eloped, and I got drunk on an epic scale. But it didn’t make things better. Nothing did. Which was why when I came out of my alcoholic stupor, I accepted the deal with Lucifer.
“You never came looking when I returned,” was her next weak excuse.
“You returned a married woman amidst a town in the process of evacuating. I wasn’t about to torture myself like that.” An admission that pinched her features.
“I really did mess things up. I’m sorry.”
“So am I. Because we wasted so much time. But it’s never too late to start over. Or even better. Let’s skip the part we’ve done and move right to what should have happened a long time ago. Marry me, Dottie.”
Her lips parted. “No, I will not. You’re insane. You’re a stranger to me.”
“And I don’t know you at all, either. But I want to find out. Marry me.”
“No.”
She stalked away. I followed.
“Why not? I retired from the library the day before this cruise. There are no books now that can keep me from you.” How had she ever thought my studies more important?
“It wasn’t just about the books.” She rounded on me. “You never even tried. Not once did you steal a kiss or say something wildly inappropriate. And now you want me to believe you have some grand love for me? Ha. I am not that gullible. This is all part of his plan.”
“What are you talking about? Whose plan?”
“Lucifer’s,” she hissed. “You’re under a spell.”
“I am?” I glanced down at my body. “I don’t feel as if I’m under any power.”
“It must be subtle because I can’t see it either. But trust me, it’s there.”
My lips quirked. “You think it’s a spell making me say these things.”
“I highly doubt you want to marry me. If you have some unrequited love fantasy, you would have looked me up ages ago. My husband has been dead a long time.”
“I didn’t know you were single. Once I found out you’d married, I never looked for you again.” Not entirely true. I’d heard about the birth of her daughter and sent—without a return name or address—a book of children’s fables. The violent, blood-thirsty kind, unlike the pale versions of modern day.
“Proving my point. You only suddenly recalled this unrequited love for me when we saw each other because it triggered a spell. You didn’t happen to see Lucifer today, did you?” Dottie asked.
“Maybe. But only for a moment. He didn’t cast any magic.”
“As if you’d know.” She snorted. “The dark lord is subtler than people give him credit for.”
“I know what he’s capable of.” What she didn’t appear to grasp was that I’d always been in love with her. I’d tried having other women in my life, none lasted long because I’d yet to meet another who could compare to Dottie. “And exactly why would Lucifer want us to be in love?”
“Who knows. Shits and giggles are enough sometimes for him. So long as you understand that what you feel isn’t real.”
“What if I like it and want it to be real?”
She didn’t reply to that. The flare of her nostrils was the only outward sign that she actually heard me. “Tell me more about the spell on your nephew.”
“I thought you couldn’t break it.”
“I can’t, but I’m wondering if there’s a way to work with it.”
Despite knowing the futility, I told her everything I’d learned, mostly because I wanted to keep her around a little longer. Her prickly nature was to be expected. We’d been apart a while, and over a stupid pretext. It would take time to build a level of rapport. Or at least a few more drinks.
“The library of Atlantis might have something for you,” she mused aloud. “I wonder if we could create a counter spell. Or what if the conditions are impossible to meet? Does it say what happens if the Farseer line dies out before the Kraken one?”
Because if there existed no source, then there could be no curse.
“Already suggested that to Ian. He refused to murder them. Bloody kid has a streak of good in him. It’s why it’s a shame he’s so screwed.”
“Don’t give up.” Dottie put her hand on mine, a subtle gesture she probably thought nothing of, yet both of our gazes were drawn to the spot where our
skin touched.
I felt it. The awareness of her drew my gaze to find her staring back. “It really is nice to see you, Dottie.” The dumbest, most honest thing I could say.
“I should go.”
She practically ran away.
Yet I smiled. Because the lady doth protest too much.
4
Dorothy: Marry me, indeed. It’s too late for us.
There must be a way for me to not feel so out of control around Shax. At my age, I should have a better grip. Yet I felt intimidated around him, and not because he dominated me in a patriarchal fashion. It was more I felt…disadvantaged. There he was, young and virile, tempting me into sin. Acting as if my old flesh were some desirable thing.
Not fair. Shax should suffer as much as I. I glanced down at my body. It had served me well, but the joints grew tired, the naps longer, a result of staying in character.
It was time to shed the disguise.
On my way back to my room, I ran into a shifter in the hall by my door. All that sniffing around made it obvious that he was looking for Jane. I sent him packing. If he was still that interested, then let him find my granddaughter in the morning.
The same went for Shax. What would he do when he saw me? Because I had no doubt that he’d hunt me down.
He’d have a surprise when he did. I turned back the clock on my appearance, shedding more than twenty years to make myself just a touch younger maybe than Shax chose to appear. It certainly took my granddaughter by surprise. But Shax didn’t bat an eye when he saw me.
Didn’t remark once on the change. The demi-demon did, however, remain glued to me, sitting beside me at breakfast, distracting me from spying on Jane and that shifter who had indeed tracked her down.
The damned demi-demon followed me after the morning meal as I kept an eye on my granddaughter, who’d chosen to go for a swim. Probably heard me haranguing Jane, on purpose, mostly to make sure the lion shifter’s family didn’t cause trouble. They hadn’t been impressed to find my Jane kissing their king.
The entire morning, Shax had stayed in the background, not talking to me, not interfering. Just there constantly, despite how I tried to lose him.
And why was I trying to lose him and in turn shirking my duty to Lucifer? The dark lord had asked me to spy on Shax. I should thank the fact that the demi-demon actually aided me with his stalking.
By the noon hour, I instead snapped, “Are you done following me already?” Why did Shax have to be so aggressively masculine? What’d happened to the shy boy I used to boss around?
“Who says I’m following you? Maybe you’re the one following me,” he said as he came to a stop by my stool at the bar. He looked handsome in his casual suit, the tan slacks matching the jacket, his mauve shirt buttoned but open at the neck. The hat proved to be an elegant touch.
“I was here first.” Just like I’d been first to yoga class where he lounged, watching from behind his glasses. I swung around on the stool, the height enough to bring me eye-level with his chin.
“Physically, perhaps, but I thought about coming here before you did,” he countered. “Really, Dottie. Reading my mind to find out my plan. I didn’t know you’d gotten so strong.”
I gritted my teeth. “You are impossible.”
“In what sense? Because I obviously exist. If you meant that I can’t be pleased, then I can assure you, it won’t take much. I’m a simple man with simple pleasures.” His gaze dropped to my mouth.
I moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue. “I don’t remember you being a stalker.”
“You want me to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll go.” He rose.
I said one word. “Don’t.”
He sat back down. The bartender slid a drink in front of him. For a moment, we said nothing, then we both spoke at once.
“Your granddaughter—”
“Your nephew—”
We both stopped.
He smiled. “You first.”
“I saw your nephew in the water.”
“The curse is forcing him into it every few hours.” His lips turned down. “It won’t be long now. At least your granddaughter appears to be doing well.”
I frowned. “Don’t be so sure. She’s a stubborn one. It took a lot of my power to imbue that locket with enough magic to make it work.” It left me depleted, another reason I’d needed an ocean trip. Some people recharged their magical batteries by resting. For me, being on the ocean revived me the quickest.
“What will you do once she doesn’t need you?”
I snorted. “Anything I want.”
“Alone?”
I eyed him. “I’ve been alone for a while.”
“I’ve been alone forever,” he admitted.
“That’s not a reason for people to be together.”
“You know it’s not the only one.” Shax reached for my hand, and I let him hold it.
The tingles were something I’d not felt in a long, long time. “This isn’t real.” I don’t know if I said it for myself or him.
“You keep saying that. Why?” Shax asked.
“I told you, the devil cast a spell.”
A crowd of people entered the bar suddenly, and the noise level jumped.
Shax leaned close and whispered against my ear, “What I feel isn’t a spell. Get used to it.”
Then he left.
Didn’t steal a kiss. Or cop a feel. Just made a promise. It affected me more than any touch.
Only once Shax disappeared from the room did I dare hiss, “Lucifer. If you’re listening, we need to talk.”
Despite the raucous noise, the dark lord replied as if he stood right beside me. “What do you want to talk about? Is it about your unrequited lust for me? Because I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint. I’m a one-wench demon at the moment.”
I whirled. “For the millionth time, I don’t want to sleep with you.”
“You keep telling yourself that.” The devil winked. I took a moment to ingest his unique style.
He’d changed since our last visit and now sported board shorts patterned with a rather dirty-looking octopus, each appendage in the shape of a male endowment. His white shirt held hundreds of sloppy-looking white spots. The implication proved a bit…in your face.
I glanced at my drink and the condensation on the side of the glass rather than the eyesore. “The love spell you put on Shax is too strong. Take it off. Tone it down. Do something. Because he is driving me nuts.” I stopped short of saying that it made me feel things. Stuff I’d thought myself long past.
“How utterly romantic,” Lucifer crooned. “The way you’re fighting your affection for him. Making this situation unnecessarily angsty.”
“There is no situation,” I growled.
He clapped his hands. “Not yet. But I can see one coming.” He sang the words, and I heard the threat.
I glared at him. “Take the spell off.”
“Can’t.”
“You will!” I shouted, losing control of myself for a moment.
“I can’t remove it because there is no spell.” Lucifer smirked and tucked his hands behind his back.
“You’re lying.”
“For once, I am telling the ugly truth. No spell. My head librarian likes you. Which I think makes him certifiable, but that’s his nightmare, not mine. Deal with it.”
“I thought Shax retired.”
“He doesn’t know it yet, but I refused his resignation. None of those peons under him are ready for that exalted position.”
My lips pursed. “It’s for a keeper of books.”
“Which only shows how little you know,” Lucifer muttered with disdain.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you’re not as smart as you think.”
“And neither are you, oh paranoid one. Shax isn’t plotting against you.” The man might be many things, but a traitor wasn’t one of them.
“Shows how little you know, because
even now, he’s secretly meeting with my wife.” Lucifer leaned close and growled, a thin tendril of smoke rising from a nostril. “And you’re here moping about your task because he still makes your panties wet. Do your job, witch. Find out what he’s up to with my wench.”
When the devil spoke quietly, you moved.
But what to do when I found myself outside Shax’s door? Should I knock? Barge in? What would I say? What excuse could I use?
I wasted time staring at the door. I’d figure something out. I knocked, and it took only a moment before he answered. I shoved past him, drawn by the lingering aroma of fresh flowers on a spring breeze.
I scanned the empty room and noted the perfectly made bed before my gaze turned to Shax and registered the fact that he only wore a towel. And he looked… Wow.
5
Shax: That book on witches really needs a bigger warning about pissing them off.
“Looking for something?” I asked as Dottie stared at me. Kind of gratifying, actually.
Her gaze snapped away from me, and her brow wrinkled. She sniffed. “Am I interrupting?” she asked all too sweetly. “I didn’t realize you had company.”
“Just me.”
“I thought I heard voices.”
A lie because Mother Nature would have secured the room against eavesdropping. “Can’t a man have a conversation with himself?” I closed the door to the hall.
“What are you doing?”
“I didn’t realize we wanted to have our conversation with everyone on the ship.” I took a step away from the door, and she held her ground in the middle of the room. She also studiously ignored my chest. A little too intently compared to the staring of before.
“What are you doing, Shax?” she asked.
“I was about to take a shower.”
“Before that. I can smell perfume.”
Young me would have gaped stupidly at her and stuttered that, of course, I wasn’t doing anything. However, Mother Nature had just left. The scent of her probably lingered, and Dottie sure didn’t seem happy about it.