Revenge of the Witch

by J. M. Davies

  A callused hand closed around and cupped her breast. Wet kisses rained down on her bare shoulder, sending shivers down her spine to her toes. A fresh citrus scent invaded as a broad chest rubbed over her back and a strong hairy leg clamped over her thighs, claiming her. Ella wriggled back into Marcus and his cock nudged between her legs. As he rocked his hips back and forth, his erection stroked along her sex. The ever-present need Marcus had for her overwhelmed and exhilarated her. The same urgent need swam inside her too. Her core clenched in anticipation and it pulsed as he pushed her thighs apart with his leg. In one swift motion, he sank his shaft deep inside, filling her. He groaned and held her tight. She wriggled and relaxed her muscles, adjusting to his possession.

  Marcus wrapped his arm around her waist and rocked back and forth, stoking the fire deep within her as he nuzzled her neck. A delightful creeping of pleasure rose and he bit down on her shoulder. Ella gasped at the sudden pain, but pivoted back to allow him room to thrust farther. The riot of pulsing waves brought her closer and closer to orgasm, Marcus’s sensual assault relentless until he brought her to climax. He kissed, nipped, and sucked her tender flesh at the curve of her neck until she moaned out loud. He worked her body into a sensual puddle of desperate want and need. Every nerve ending twitched with yearning for more as he tweaked the hard nipple of her right breast. He touched her everywhere, and stirred her body in the most erotic way. Ella bent her head back, resting on his shoulder as he deepened their joining. A fan of delicious ripples ruptured from her belly, and she cried out.

  “That’s it, baby. Let go.”

  Ella couldn’t hold on any longer and she let the rolling orgasm sweep her away with euphoria. The orgasm clawed through her bloodstream and set off tiny fireworks, ripping her into a million pieces. Marcus pummeled her body as her muscles clenched and milked his cock. Exhausted, she collapsed flat on the mattress, and he growled his release at her back, thrusting one last time, before he sagged over her. Loving the closeness and feel of him, she sighed when he slid to his side and broke the connection.

  He drew her against his chest, spooning her, and swept the strands of hair that covered her face away. “Your sweet naked body is such a temptation. I can’t get enough. I want you all over again.”

  Marcus planted a kiss on her neck and her stomach tightened at his whispered words. The intensity with which he loved her aroused her every time, but they needed to get up. Nate would wake soon, and she wanted to hear how the interviews went last night. Ella glanced at the clock on the bedside, which flashed five o’clock, and twisted around, placing her hand on his cheek.

  “What time did you get in last night?”

  He gave a lazy smile. “I arrived home this morning around two thirty to find Sleeping Beauty snoring on the couch.” He dropped a light kiss on her lips.

  “I don’t snore.”

  “Sweetheart—you’re adorable, but you snore loud enough to wake the dead.”

  Ella chuckled and smacked him. This rare and relaxed side to Marcus she loved the most. Clutching his chest, he feigned being hurt, but it drew attention to his shiny chiseled abs, moist from his recent work-out on her body, which left her drooling. Running her finger over his tattoos, outlining the black scrolls and frog skeleton, highlighted the risk-taking warrior she adored. Dark, intense eyes narrowed as they met hers. She knew that look. She needed to move or be swept under by his tantalizing hands that stroked her hip.

  “Something weird happened last night when I fell asleep…”

  Marcus laughed. “Falling asleep with Nate around is weird.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I, sweetheart.”

  “Well, he’s sleeping longer through the night now.”

  “I know. Anyway, what were you saying?”

  She sighed. “When I opened my eyes, I was another woman. I saw things through her eyes. I felt her emotions pulsing inside me. Rage and love. The power inside her was like nothing I have ever seen or witnessed. She talked to a man called Dagda, who once loved Ariana. But she didn’t return his love. He was the one who cursed her descendants—us. Dagda’s a god, Marcus—a king among gods. Anyway, he lost the throne as a result, but he said he wanted to undo the curse. This woman didn’t want that, and he called her the Morrigan, his queen of darkness. He rejected her and she was furious.”

  Ella didn’t know how this fit in with the here and now, but knew it was significant.

  Marcus rubbed his temple and lines expanded around his eyes. “Why is this important now?”

  Ella sat up. Maybe having this conversation in bed wasn’t the best idea. She shifted away a little and laid her hand on his arm as he sat up too.

  “Because I sensed a flaming anger inside her cold heart and twisted mind. There’s no empathy, kindness, or real love inside her. Her darkness made me feel ill, and yesterday, I felt that same sensation surrounding Robert. This woman may have loved this Dagda once, but she despised his weakness. When he lost power, her feelings changed. She hated the fact that after everything, he still cared about Ariana. Once, she would have done anything for him. In fact, she did terrible things in his name, but he cast her aside.”

  Marcus nodded, but arched his neat eyebrow as if unconvinced. “Let’s say you’re right. What’s the significance of what you’re seeing in relation to now? What you talk about is ancient history. Besides, when you located me in Mexico, you needed my shirt with my scent, and when you searched for Nate, you had a bond. He’s your son, but this—how is stepping inside someone’s body and mind possible? You don’t know this Morrigan.”

  Ella sighed with exasperation. She didn’t know herself, but as she rubbed her moonstone bracelet, a desire to sleep washed over her. Once asleep, she wandered into the soul of this strange woman; she didn’t know how or why it should happen now. No matter how crazy it sounded, she believed in her bones it was crucial.

  “Honestly, I don’t have the answers to that.” She gazed down at her bracelet and rubbed the moonstone. “Lady Tenille returned this to me, and I think somehow it’s responsible. I don’t know if this experience is a moment in the past or even where it took place. Nothing appeared familiar to me. All I know is this Morrigan isn’t dead. Time is different for the gods. Maybe she’s one of them. I visited with Ariana months ago, and I’m certain what I saw has to do with what’s going on right now. This queen of darkness is more powerful than anything I have ever experienced before. More powerful than Lady Tenille. Perhaps more powerful than Ariana. Zephra saw crows in her vision. Well, the Morrigan stood in a field and called out to thousands of black birds that gathered around her like an army. I also think she killed Dagda.”

  Marcus descended from their king-sized bed and stood tall, broad and magnificent. A better example of masculinity would be hard to find, with his tight abs and bulging pecs. She longed to run her hands all over his corded muscles and feel the strength of him press against her, blotting all her worries out. Shifting her attentions elsewhere, she reined in her emotions to focus on gaining his understanding, and cooperation, but risked another peek. She examined his somber expression as he thought about what she had said, taking his time before giving an answer. A flash of fear crossed the angles and planes of his handsome face, but as soon as the emotion appeared, he shut it down.

  “Okay—well, ask Isabella. Remember, she mentioned the magnum opus of history books for all supernatural beings—The Book of Blood, Liber Sanguinis. I believe it contains the history of the gods. It’s worth checking out. I will talk with Zayn, leader of the Fae, and find out what he knows of this woman, the Morrigan. But first—there’s something I need to tell you.”

  A shiver rippled down her spine and she drew up the pink woolen blanket that lay over the duvet. Ella remembered Isabella talking about The Book of Blood months ago. Learning the history of their kind from the witch had provoked an argument between them at the time. Now a strong gust of guilt and fear rose off Marcus. The overwhelming sensation was enough to make Ella open her m
outh, ready to fire him with questions.

  But his cell buzzed on the side table and he grabbed it.

  “Yes. Shit. Did you call the doctor? Okay—I understand. I’ll be there now. I want to see the security footage, and don’t give anyone access to the scene except me,” he shouted.

  Ella scrambled to the edge of the bed, aware a call this early couldn’t be good news.

  Marcus flared his nostrils as he spoke, the only outward sign of emotion. He closed his eyes and placed his phone back on the side table. “Steel’s unconscious. His vitals are good, and he’s breathing on his own, but they cannot wake him up. They tried to rouse him to give him a drink, but couldn’t. Shit...”

  Ella grabbed his hand and squeezed it, knowing the unspoken bond between the two men ran deep.

  “This isn’t your fault. Steel knew the risks and he left you in charge. He placed his trust in you. The old fox will be fine because he has you in his corner fighting for him.”

  Marcus’s features didn’t soften nor did he elaborate. He merely nodded. “Until we have the bastard in my clutches, everyone’s at risk. I’m hoping the preliminary results of the autopsy will shed some light, but they won’t be back until later. Until then, please, stay here with Nate. Don’t fight me on this.”

  A desire to throw a punch in his abs gripped her, but thinking about Nate made her simply push at his belly.

  He grabbed hold of her arm. “Promise me, Ella.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Now go and shower.”

  Marcus let go and headed for the en-suite. He stopped at the door, giving her a full view of his wonderful, tight rear end and long, powerful legs. Her mouth watered. She smiled and slid back across the bed to reach for her phone, tapping in the number she wanted. A sleepy voice answered moments later.

  “Isabella—I’m sorry to call so early, but Steel’s in a coma, and I need your help.” A muffled exaggerated cough sounded out from the other end of the phone and a bunch of static crackled on the line.

  “Sorry—did you say Steel—Steel’s unconscious?”

  “Yes. Marcus is going over there now. Steel was kept in isolation, but they couldn’t wake him this morning.”

  “Shit.”

  “It’s getting crazy. Marcus wants me to stay here with Nate. Can you come over? Please. I need to see you. And bring The Book of Blood.” A hushed silence met her.

  “I’ll be over as soon as I can. I just need to check in with someone first. As for the book—look, I’ll explain when I see you, okay?”

  In talking with Isabella, the same wave of guilt she sensed around Marcus washed over her. What’s going on? She closed her eyes and stretched into the dark void to focus on her friend to dip inside her thoughts, but she butted heads with a wall of pain. The witch, like Marcus, had perfected her mental blocks. She pressed her throbbing temple. The pain screeched at her from trying to read Isabella. The only possible explanation: she was hiding something too.

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  Ella couldn’t help feeling adrift as she ended the call. She stared at the bathroom door and chewed on the ends of her nails, feeling alone. She clutched her arms over her chest to hug herself. Marcus had shut her out and now Isabella too. Why would those closest to her be keeping secrets? Why did they feel guilty? A wail from Nate’s room made her sideline her worries, and she darted off the bed, heading for the nursery.

  ****

  Ella placed a mouthful of apple puree into Nate’s eager mouth, which opened wide as the red plastic spoon zoomed closer. There, at the top, lay a single pearl-white tooth. She couldn’t believe the changes he had made in such a short time. He smiled up at her with his angel blue eyes and her heart squeezed with joy. Pressing her lips tight, she sniffed.

  Three months had flown since their retrieval of him from the Black Hawk facility. Any trepidation as to whether she would be able to manage being a new mom vanished. The ache that filled her at the loss when she had thought him dead was filled the minute she held him in her arms. A possession consumed her that wouldn’t let her be parted from Nate, needing him to be safe.

  Ella swallowed, surprised at how easily she had swapped her active role in Orion for motherhood. Gazing lovingly at Nate, as he gurgled with delight at the taste of the fruit, she smiled, realizing how much she had changed. To the point sometimes she didn’t recognize herself anymore. The front door clicked open and Isabella strolled in, dressed in her leather jacket and matching pants, composed and ready to kick ass. Ella stared down at her loose sweatpants and sweatshirt smeared in apple puree, and wondered what the pre-baby Ella would think.

  “How’s my favorite little fella?”

  Isabella kissed him on the cheek and promptly moved away to help herself to coffee from the Keurig. A million questions buzzed in Ella’s head as the witch skirted the perimeter of the kitchen, avoiding direct eye contact. The weight of worry and fear had morphed in a few hours. Now, she couldn’t avoid the topic, desperate for answers. Isabella appeared preoccupied, staring out the window. Maybe it was worry over Roman and Jake. The only way to find out would be to dive right in.

  “I know, Izzie.”

  A loud clatter sounded as her friend slammed her mug down on the countertop, spilling the coffee on the white granite, seeming to confirm she had hit the nail on the head.

  “You know what, Ella? What are you talking about?”

  Ella’s instincts pushed her to keep going. Continuing to feed Nate, she calmly continued. “You’re my friend, right? That means we confide in each other. Share things. Having your friendship means the world to me. You’re like the sister I always wanted. You’re part of my family.”

  Ella hadn’t intended to lay it quite as thick—or maybe she did, in the hopes Isabella would confess—but she meant every word. She had opened herself to the witch. Confided and trusted her. She had no secrets from her.

  Isabella lowered her head, crossed her arms over her chest, and dug her nails in.

  “You’re hiding something. Marcus too. I know you’re not sleeping with him, but there’s something between you two. What the hell is going on?”

  Isabella twisted away and gripped the countertop. “Sleep with Marcus? Are you mad? Why would you even think that?”

  “I’ve been trying to work out what would cause you both to act the way you do, that’s what. Perhaps being with Nate gives me more time than is healthy to pick over things, but damn it, I said I know you’re not sleeping with him, but there’s something. I know it, Izzie. Isn’t there?”

  “Did you call me over to interrogate me? Is that what this is?”

  Isabella never got defensive with her, but right now, as Ella’s heart pounded in her chest, she couldn’t stop.

  “You’re both blocking me out. I may not be able to read your thoughts, but I feel the vibes. You’re swimming in guilt around me. Even your aura glows a muddy brown. Yours and his. There’s so much going on right now that I push it aside, not wanting to address it because I’m terrified of what I will find. But I can’t take it any longer. I’m giving you the chance to be honest with me.”

  Ella hadn’t meant to snap, but she didn’t like this anymore than Isabella did. Her patience evaporated hours ago. Another reason drove her too. Ever since they had rescued Nate, the ghosts of her previous lives whispered more and more. Gwen, Isabella, and Lady Dempsey pleaded for her to act.

  We’re here. It’s okay.

  The women’s voices echoed inside her head and she stood taller. Ella shook her head, willing the voices to quiet down as she spooned another mouthful into Nate’s open mouth.

  Isabella stepped to her side and pressed her hand on her shoulder. “Did you ask Marcus?”

  Ella frowned and slid her head sideways. “No—he has enough to handle right now, but I will.”

  The witch’s eyes glowed and Ella reached for her hand as she made to walk away. “Don’t play with me. I know you have at times reduced my tension or helped me relax, but that’s not the answer I need right n
ow.”

  Isabella snapped her hand away as if stung by her words and Ella jerked back herself at the growing distrust for her so-called friend.

  “I can’t,” Isabella said softly.

  Ella didn’t like to keep pushing, but she couldn’t stop either. “Why?” She wiped Nate’s mouth and lifted him out of the high chair to hold him against her hip, marching close to Isabella, who visibly paled at her approach. Ella pressed her baby into her friend’s chest and kept him there wriggling until the witch had no alternative but to reach out and accept the squirming toddler.

  “I’m not good with babies.”

  Ella frowned and readjusted Isabella’s hold before standing back. “Of course you are. Now, explain what happened or so help me, I will go to Raine.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I’m tired of hearing I can’t. Why?”

  “Raine is with Steel. She’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with him. They have a history together.”

  Wow. Ella licked her lips. She remembered the way the witch looked at Steel the other day at the gathering, an obvious attraction between the two.

  “Okay, so explain why you can’t tell me. You’re my friend. I tell you everything, and I’m always here for you.”

  The witch dipped her head and rubbed her nose over Nate’s plump pink cheek. “He forced my hand, and I had no choice. He said he would tell Roman about the kiss with Jake.”

  A shock rippled through her. She knew who the “he” was, but asked anyway. “Marcus?”

  Isabella lifted her head and nodded as watery tears filled her eyes. “Your husband is very persuasive. I have no doubt he lied about telling Roman. He would never put Jake in danger, but he’s ruthless when he wants something, and I couldn’t take the risk.”