Captive Witch

by September Stone

  “A bucket list. I like that.” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, drawing my attention. This is a sad moment. A somber one. The two of us have been marked for death and I should be too angry or upset for anything else to matter. But all I can think about is her lip and how much I want to test its softness against my own.

  I ball my fist, digging my nails into the flesh of my palm. Great. I’m marked to die and all I can think about is what it would feel like to pull her into my arms and kiss her until we both forget we’re cursed. I close my eyes and exhale, focusing on the weight of this moment. But when I open them again, Bryn is studying me with a curious expression.

  “I know the first thing I want to check off the list,” she says. “I mean, if it’s okay with you.”

  I just offered to take her swimming with sharks, so I’m not entirely sure what she thinks I might object to—until she lifts her hand to brush her knuckles across my stubbled cheek.

  As much as I want to lean into the touch, I don’t want to be fooled by the same trick twice. “You’re not going to knock me over the head again, are you?”

  A smile curves her lips. “No. And I am sorry about that. I thought…” She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. What matters is I wanted to do this then, too.”

  In the next breath, she presses her lips to mine, and any concern I have about my physical wellbeing goes out the window. I don’t care if she clobbers me again—it’s worth it.

  Her lips, tentative at first, push harder against mine with each passing second. My arm snakes around her back, pulling her closer to me. I’ve fantasized about this moment more often than I’d ever admit, but none of those imagined trysts hold a candle to the feeling of her in my arms. Once she saw Calder, I figured any chance I ever had of this happening was gone for good. But maybe things have changed too much between them.

  Maybe she can be mine—for as long as we both have left.

  Her lips part and I waste no time invading her mouth with my tongue, tasting her sweetness. Her nails rake against my scalp and I moan into her as the blood rushes south of my belt buckle. I want to explore every inch of her body, to make her come alive, to visit every mountaintop of ecstasy while she still can.

  Someone clears his throat behind us, and the sound is so harsh and pointed, I’m positive it’s not the first time he’s made it.

  Bryn breaks our kiss and turns toward the source of the sound.

  Calder doesn’t meet my eyes before dipping his gaze to a spot on the ground between us. “I… um… got through. But my contacts said the daemon was right. There’s no way to break the curse.”

  Bryn’s chin drops to her chest, but only for a moment. She sucks in a breath and stands, her eyes wide and pleading. “Calder. I…”

  He lifts his hand. “We should get out of the forest. We don’t know who else might be out here.” Although his words are directed at us, his gaze skims the ground.

  My gut twists. It isn’t like Calder ever bared his soul to me, but he’s said enough for me to piece together that he and Bryn were more than friends when they were Mona’s captives. But his years-old feelings don’t negate my own.

  And as much as I know we should probably all discuss the dynamics at play, Calder’s right. We shouldn’t stick around here for too long. This night has been eventful enough already.

  “Lead the way,” Bryn says. But from the falling cadence of her voice, I get the feeling she wants to say much more.

  And although I’d like nothing more than to comfort her as we trudge back into the forest, she keeps a careful distance between us. Heavy dread settles in the pit of my stomach, and I wonder if our first kiss isn’t destined to be our last.

  Chapter Eleven

  Silas

  Gravel crunches under the car’s tires as I steer my way up the quarter-mile drive to the mansion I’ve called home for the last two hundred and seventy-seven days. Not that I’m counting. The sprawling manor is always imposing, but silhouetted against a spray of stars and bathed in silver moonlight, it’s more sinister than usual.

  Or maybe the ominous mood has nothing to do with the building and everything to do with what happened tonight.

  It wasn’t my first death mark. While most of the times someone has bound me into their service, they’ve wanted me to do banal tasks like loosen people’s inhibitions at parties or to persuade individuals to engage in shady business dealings, I’ve been forced to cast the death spell twice before. But there was something different about tonight. Power surged inside me like it never has, and I’m not sure what to make of it.

  I pull the car to a stop in the wide U-shaped drive in front of the house, and a valet opens the door before I’ve unclasped my seatbelt. I pat the buttery leather seat once before exiting the vehicle and handing over the keys. This car is the one thing I’ll miss about being bound to Lillian.

  As I enter the house, I don’t bother asking the night watchman if the boss is awake. Although Lillian possesses an enchanted ring that allows her to walk in daylight, she tends to keep a traditional vampire schedule.

  The guards outside her office ignore me when I approach the door. They know I do their lady’s bidding and that I’m no threat to her. I can’t be. It’s part of the bargain when she tethered me to her. I don’t bother telling them that while I have no intention of harming her, I’m no longer strictly bound by our former contract. There are loopholes, and if I wanted to assassinate the woman, now would be the perfect time.

  I knock on the door and wait until her voice bids me to come in before twisting the handle and entering.

  Lillian Castle reclines on a rich red chaise lounge in a sky blue dress so thin and short it may as well be a negligee. She holds a tablet in her hands, the curve of her lips indicating she’s pleased by whatever she’s reading. When the door closes behind me, she shifts her gaze, her lips twisting in a simpering smile. “My pet. I trust you’ve come with good news.”

  I bow low, hating every inch my spine curves toward her. But now isn’t the time to make her angry. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my time bound to Lillian, it’s just how mercurial her moods can be.

  She springs to her feet and drops the tablet. But instead of the device crashing to the chaise lounge and bouncing onto the floor, it floats down on a cushion of air. Her eyes sparkle with satisfaction; she’s been complaining for months that mastery over her recently-acquired air affinity hasn’t been as easy to acquire as over fire and water.

  “The witch is marked,” I say. “On the next full moon, she’ll be dead, and you’ll have what you want.”

  Lillian clasps her hands in front of her ample chest, straining the fabric over the taut peaks of her nipples. In the nine months I’ve been bound to her, she’s pulled this move so many times I could probably give the diameter of her areolas to the millimeter. “Wonderful. Thank you, Silas.”

  I fight cringing at the sound of my name on her lips. It’s part of the spell that binds me to her. My name is like a weapon she can wield against me. But even now, the wonted tug that usually accompanies the word isn’t as strong as it was just hours ago.

  Her hold on me is breaking. When someone binds a daemon, he is in that person’s service for one year. Only two things can end that person’s hold during the time period—the master performing the manumissio spell to release the daemon from servitude, or the daemon taking a life on the binder’s orders.

  Unfortunately for me, because of the way she ordered me to do the latter, I now need to request the former. If Lillian had told me to shoot the witch in the head, I’d be free now. But since the girl won’t die for another three weeks, my connection to Lillian is in a state of limbo. I’m no longer fully at her command, but I’m also not entirely free.

  “I’ve done what you asked.” I straighten my back and work to keep my voice even. Firm, but pleasant. “I’m here to ask for you to release me.”

  Lillian pushes out her lower lip in a pout. The look makes me uncomfortable. There’s
no reason a woman of such resources and means should have to make such a ridiculous face. “You want to leave me so soon, Silas?”

  I inhale a measured breath. “You know as well as I do that I’m no use to you anymore. My power’s already draining. Waiting until the full moon is just a formality at this point.”

  She stands, her eyes glued on mine as her high-heels clip-clop across the floor until she’s standing in front of me. She raises one sapphire-tipped finger and trails it down my cheek. “But think of the fun we could have in that time.”

  I clench my jaw. After everything this woman has forced me to do, the last thing I wish to experience is her bedroom proclivities. As much as I long to tell her so, I don’t want to goad her into keeping me out of spite.

  Not that I have any kind of life to return to. My one comfort is that Lillian will never be able to bind me to her again.

  Her finger continues its journey, tracing down my sternum and across my stomach, the tip heating almost uncomfortably as it descends. She takes her time around the fly of my jeans and I fear she may inadvertently set my pants on fire. Although fire was the first magical affinity she siphoned, she’s still prone to losing control if she allows herself to grow distracted while using it.

  After what feels like an eternity, she sighs. “You’re no fun, Silas. You really should lighten up. Life is not life at all if you don’t live it.”

  It’s rich for her to say, seeing as she’s controlled my every waking moment for the last nine months. And as soon as I’m gone, she’ll summon another daemon to replace me. She doesn’t care about other people living, only about herself getting what she wants.

  Still trailing her hot finger along my abdomen, she murmurs the words to the manumissio spell. With each passing beat of my heart, the remaining strings tethering my actions to her will snap. When she finally steps back, putting several inches of space between us, the fist of pressure that’s gripped my chest for the last three quarters of a year is gone.

  “Shame,” she murmurs, brushing her fingers through my hair. “But I do have other business that needs seeing to, and I can’t accomplish it if you’re still around. You’re free to go.”

  The verbal dismissal is a formality; I’m already free. I do my best to school my features as I exit her office, not wanting to face some consequence for seeming too happy to be leaving her service.

  The guards blink at me as I pass, their brows furrowing, but I don’t bother answering the question in their eyes. I wonder how many daemons they’ve witnessed being released from Lillian’s control. It’s possible the others either serve out their term and leave without a goodbye when it’s over, or they’re instructed to kill someone by more direct means, avoiding the need for an early release.

  It takes all my self-control not to skip down the hall toward the servants’ entrance. I’ve only been down this way twice in my time here, but I recognize the door because it lies just beyond an ornate mirror employees are supposed to use to ensure their appearance is suitable. I almost walk past the it, but a flash of black catches my eye and I slow. A grin spreads across my face when I take in my glossy black hair. The silver hair of a bound daemon makes me look on the brink of death—sallow and washed out. But now the light tan of my skin looks healthy and almost glowing. I look like the man I remember, the man I very much look forward to getting back to being.

  I could probably use a haircut. I haven’t bothered with so much as a trim since Lillian bound me. But as I lift my hands to test the length, something on my left palm catches my eye.

  My heart begins to pound. It’s not possible.

  But even as the argument takes form in my mind, the counter asserts itself. There was something different when I cast the curse. I’ve never experienced power like that. And the fact that the bounty hunter and her protectors were also marked—that shouldn’t have happened. Just like this shouldn’t have happened.

  A crow. I never in a million years thought I’d see the mark on my own skin.

  There has to be something I can do. Despite what I told the guy with the British accent, there might be a way to reverse it—emphasis on might. It’s a story I’ve heard told by other daemons, but it may be just that.

  Still, I have to try. I’m not willing to die because a curse went haywire.

  But if I have any chance at all of avoiding that fate, I need to find Bryn. I need to find them all.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bryn

  We don’t talk much on the trek through the woods toward the escape car Calder stashed on a two-lane highway a mile from Mona’s compound. But as we make our way through the moon-dappled underbrush, my mind churns. No matter how many times I try to think through the experiences I want to have before the next full moon, my thoughts inevitably travel back to two things: the feeling of Taj’s lips on mine, and the pained look on Calder’s face when he interrupted our kiss.

  Seeing Taj and me together like that hurt Calder, and I would do anything to take that hurt away.

  Well, almost anything. As much as I wish Calder hadn’t been blindsided by me kissing Taj, I don’t regret doing it. Despite my doubt about his intentions earlier this evening, I trust Taj. I’ve grown to care for him in a deeper way than I realized until tonight. And if I’m going to die in less than a month, I don’t regret indulging myself in the comfort Taj was willing to provide.

  Besides, the truth is if it had been Calder who’d stayed back to comfort me, it’s entirely possible Taj would have returned to find me kissing Calder.

  What does that say about me?

  “It should be just ahead,” Calder says, breaking the silence that’s surrounded the three of us for too long.

  “Good.” I pause to stretch my back. “Where to once we get to the car?”

  Calder and Taj stop, too, both of them within arm’s reach. But after a beat, Calder glances at the forest floor and shuffles back a step. I hope he was just standing on a rough root or something, and that he’s not backing up to put more space between us.

  “Your designated safe zone is northeast of here. It’ll take five or six hours to get there. At this point, I’d rather not drive through the night.” Calder runs a hand through his blond hair. “My guess is the worst is behind us. The elders won’t send another bounty hunter—not unless Poe calls them and tells them he’s been marked. But he’d be stupid to, because I doubt the elders would give a rip. They’d demand he get back to work.”

  He doesn’t meet my eyes when he speaks, and my heart twists at the distance he’s putting between us. The distance I put between us. I turn to Taj. “Could Calder and I have a minute?”

  Taj’s dark eyebrows hike upward and it takes a full three seconds before he sputters a response. “Yeah. Of course. I’ll, um… I’ll go make sure the car is where we think it is.” He gestures in the direction we’ve been trekking. “This way, yeah?” Without waiting for a response, he ambles on.

  I wait until he’s out of earshot. “We need to talk.”

  Calder shakes his head. “We really don’t.”

  I take a step forward. “Clearly we do. You won’t look at me.”

  He drags his face upward until his eyes find mine. “I’m looking at you.”

  His irritated tone is so reminiscent of the one he would use when my old roommate complained he wasn’t listening to a story she was telling that I can’t help smiling. “Much better.” I reach down and link our hands, pleased when he doesn’t pull away. “The whole time we were apart, I never stopped caring for you.”

  He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Me, too.”

  I take in a breath. “But, in the last few months since Taj has been working for Mona… I started caring about him, too.”

  Calder’s eyes shift to the trees behind me for a beat before returning to my face.

  I squeeze his fingers. “Are you telling me you haven’t cared for anyone since we were separated?”

  He offers a breathy laugh. “Well, no.”

  “You lived your l
ife.” I nod encouragingly. “I’m just trying to live mine—in a very compacted timeframe.” I weigh my next words carefully. “That wasn’t the first time I wanted to kiss Taj. But it is the first time I’ve been able to. After what Mona did to you, I was too afraid to even squeeze Taj’s hand before tonight. I was afraid of what she might do to him if he disobeyed a direct order. I don’t want you to hold it against me. I don’t want to live the rest of my life without you.”

  Calder squeezes his eyes closed, exhaling through his nostrils. Returning pressure in my fingers, he says, “I don’t want that either.”

  Relief sweeps through me with such force my eyes prickle with tears. “Good.” I bring his knuckles to my mouth and feather a kiss over them. “The truth is, I don’t want to be without either of you. Do you think…” The words I want to say stick in my throat. Fear twists my insides. In Mona’s compound, I knew better than to ask for more than what I was provided. It was a lesson I learned when the euphorium started consuming my mom. I got good at stuffing my own wants into a dark corner of my mind.

  But to continue living that way is just a different kind of prison. And I can’t stay locked up any longer.

  “Do you think we could make this work? All three of us?” The words escape me in a rush before I can convince myself to keep them in. “Now that I have you back, I can’t lose you again. But now that I know that everything Taj and I shared at the compound was real, I don’t know if I can turn my back on him. I don’t want to.”

  Calder’s lips twitch as he studies my face, and my whole world stills as I wait for his answer. It’s not until his hand cups my cheek that I manage to draw in a fresh breath.

  “After the hell you’ve lived through, how can I deny you?” The corner of his mouth quirks. “It’s weird—I won’t lie. But I guess if you want to kiss Taj, I can be okay with that.” He leans down, his lips so close to mine our breath mingles. “As long as you don’t stop kissing me.”