Revenge of the Witch

by J. M. Davies

  “That about sums it up, Drayton. You may think you have the upper hand in this, but I’m telling you, don’t underestimate him. Unless you take him out, you don’t stand a chance. Even then, I’m not sure you would succeed, because that bastard at times—doesn’t seem human.”

  Marcus didn’t say a word. Nothing scared him except losing his family. He scratched his beard and eyed the man, wondering what motivated him. It obviously wasn’t sex. Was the man gay? Money must be the answer. He studied the professor as he took another sip of his coffee, which by now must be stone-cold. Having Ella’s brother’s name would be the starting point for a full investigation and manhunt. Could it be a coincidence that Ella mentioned returning to Wales to search for her brother? He didn’t believe in coincidence. Sibling intuition? Did this Issac know about Ella?

  “Right, let’s talk about the Padre. How did you two meet? Right from the beginning.”

  The professor slouched back and capped his head with both his hands before he stretched his legs lazily out in front. “I had finished giving a lecture on the campus and in walked this portly man surrounded by two giant bodyguards, smoking a cigar….”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Isabella examined every inch of her face before unclipping her long hair and letting it tumble down. Stripping out of her tight olive-green pants and black top, she headed for the shower. The stress of the last two days, and the cold shoulder Jake continued to give her, was enough to make her want to hole up in her room. Away from everyone. She expected Jake to give her a hard time. But equally expected the usually playful and easygoing man to bounce back. Instead, Jake ignored her, even when she approached him and tried to apologize. He walked away. Sighing, she wiped off her makeup with a cotton ball, staring at her pale face and large green eyes. With her face free of concealer, freckles highlighted her small nose and cheeks.

  Throwing the dirty cotton balls in the garbage can, she lowered her head. After everything with Marcus, Ella reacted in the same way, pushing her to use her gift. She told them months ago not to mess with the balance between mates. Why did they have to drag her into their stupid mess? She sniffed. She didn’t make friends easily, and Ella’s friendship meant a lot to her. Real friends weren’t easy to find outside of the coven. Most people, most humans, wouldn’t accept her. They were suspicious of her kind, and vice-versa.

  She held a hunter’s instinct, or so her sisters told her, which explained why she enjoyed fighting. Isabella dressed in boyish clothes and boots for comfort. Heels wouldn’t work when running after an assailant. How many girls loved to collect deadly weapons, from small but lethal blades to larger swords that she could wield around, killing her victims before they even saw her coming? Isabella pushed her body to the limits and exuded a confidence some women were intimidated by. She bore no shame being a witch from a distinguished coven, and she was proud of her heritage.

  However, the conflict surrounding Jake and Roman gave her sleepless nights. In an attempt to analyze her feelings for both men, she started writing a list of pros and cons, with the aim of once and for all deciding where her heart lay. So far, Roman’s list of undesirable traits, such as the fact he was a stinking blood-sucking vamp—a big no-no—should count for at least four, and was by far the longest. However, no matter what she added to his negative traits, she couldn’t ignore the impact his very appearance caused. The minute she locked eyes with the arrogant and conceited vampire, the room shrunk, leaving little oxygen to breathe, and her core ached with pulsing awareness. Hence, the need to step up her scrutiny of Jake, the man—the potential lover. She put her plan into action on Saturday with the kiss.

  Jake was an enthusiastic kisser. He put a lot of effort into that simple connection, and she tried hard to ignore the fact that her friends were watching. She tried hard to surrender herself to the moment. Of course, in the end, the kiss fell way short of expectation, which may have been because of the audience. A sinking dread clawed at her that no matter how much she pushed the relationship with Jake, it wouldn’t work.

  Twisting the faucet of the shower to run the water, she tested it to check the temperature. She loved a hot shower, and found it soothing. About to let go of the towel, a cold blast of air brushed her shoulders. Gripping the small white towel for dear life as it was all that covered her naked body, she screeched. Standing inches away, in tight pants with a silver dagger at his hip and a fitted white T-shirt that drew attention to his powerful forearms and biceps covered in striking black ink, was Roman, the vampire prince. Isabella lifted her gaze from the tattoos that adorned his neck and sank into the mysterious eyes of the man she hated, whose heated gaze bore into hers.

  “Just in time.” He smirked.

  Before she could push Roman away, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his hand in the small of her back, fusing their bodies together. He smelled earthy and some scent she couldn’t name but it lifted her away. Instinctively, she leaned in and sniffed his neck as he dipped his head to stare deep into her eyes. Heated passion flared back at her and a coiling desire flamed, making her want to taste him. The moment the thought entered her mind, her cheeks flushed. Roman wove his hand in her hair, gripping the long strands and tugging her closer. A part of her enjoyed his roughness.

  And although she was a virgin, she wanted an experienced partner who would satisfy her carnal cravings. A lover she would be willing, in return, to satisfy his every whim and fantasy. Why did she picture Roman when she imagined this? His head loomed closer until his lips were millimeters from hers. Her heart thumped inside her ribs, and she lifted her head, brushing her lips over his in the briefest of kisses. The heat singed between them.

  With the skimming of soft skin, he let go of her hair and cupped her neck, pressing his firm lips over hers and giving a delicate kiss that stole her essence, stopped her thoughts, and stirred her senses. Roman nudged her lips and nipped her lower lip, causing her to open her mouth in protest. But he seized the opportunity to plunder inside and take what he wanted. But the vamp stopped abruptly, hissed, wiped his mouth and stepped back.

  “In the shower now, and get his scent off your skin.”

  Isabella stood rooted to the spot, shocked at the obvious jealousy of another man. She smiled, wanting to taunt the vampire who knew no boundaries when it came to her privacy.

  “You’re jealous of a human.” She stabbed her long nail in his chest.

  The devilish handsome immortal laughed before he zoomed in close. “Jealousy is a pathetic human emotion. Besides, I don’t have a reason to be jealous. You’re mine, and I will not have his foul stench over your delicate skin. It upsets my stomach.”

  Isabella rolled her eyes and couldn’t believe the way he spoke to her. She didn’t belong to anyone, but she couldn’t resist poking fun at his admission, knowing she played with fire and could get burnt. Closing the gap between them, she sniffed his neck. Damn it, he smelled divine, like the fresh, salty ocean. Meeting his gaze as he stood stiff with his wide, broad shoulders back, she whispered, “You mean to say this intimidating prince of death and darkness is weakened because of the scent of a human male?” She scoffed.

  Roman’s nostrils flared and his dark eyes resembled coal as he lowered his head to sniff her neck once again. This time, he swept her long hair away and brushed his finger over her carotid pulse, sweeping his thumb back and forth. In the blink of an eye, he pressed her up along the tiled wall, with her hand held high above her head, linked with his. He held her hand there, pinning her in. She should be terrified; instead, a thrill invaded. Each stroke of his skin over hers elicited sparks of pleasure. His soft, sensual touch rendered her speechless and she closed her eyes, falling prey to his feverish assault as her insides fluttered with a wave of erotic desire.

  “I smell another scent now, Isabella. One far more potent and powerful than any human’s. Yours. You’re aroused, my little witch.”

  At over six-foot-something tall, he made her feel small and vulnerable, which other men never did. His hoarse
voice sent shivers tingling down her spine. Feeling light-headed, she snapped her eyes open, and shoved at his granite chest to free herself.

  “What is it, my little dove? Don’t like playing games anymore? Or do you think perhaps I am joking? There’s an easy way to discover if you’re turned on, my sweet. Your scent has awakened my appetite.”

  As the vampire always did, using his inhuman speed, he whisked her away from the bathroom and carried her into the large bedroom, where he spread her out on the king-sized bed. Isabella lay there, with the prince pinning her to the bed. The small white towel was still magically wrapped over her most intimate parts but any sudden movement and it would be gone. As she sunk into the mattress, she heaved out a breath and pushed her chest up to move, but his hot tongue delved at her core, stabbing and licking as she writhed under him. She couldn’t believe him. A wave of mortification washed over her at her situation. Isabelle tried to sit forward to yank him away but his hand pressed on her belly.

  She gazed at the powerful vampire as he pleasured her. She watched as Roman, his dark, sleek hair brushing her thighs, speared his tongue right into her tender sex. Spasms of ecstasy rippled out at the intimate contact and she tilted her pelvis, bringing him closer. Taking small breaths, her heart raced as his tongue thrust in and out of her core, making her wetter than ever. She gripped the sheets on her bed as the pulses of euphoria ripped through her. Never in her life had she experienced such a riot of cataclysmic sensations that clutched her insides, melting and rendering her at his mercy. With each stroke of his wicked tongue, a wave of exquisite delight gripped her, and she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted more, even though she hated herself for it. Roman sucked her wetness, and she savored his brazen control over her body and senses.

  Roman pressed on her belly as she squirmed and lifted her bottom clear off the mattress. The little sucks and flicks on her clit drove her closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm. She couldn’t prevent the moans that escaped her mouth. Roman continued to devour her sex, pushing her thighs wider apart. She stared down as his head lay between her legs as he sucked her juices, flicked his tongue over her sensitive nub, and nibbled at her silky flesh. She couldn’t take anymore.

  Roman raised his head and met her gaze, licking his lips that were covered in her arousal; she opened her mouth to speak, but he descended again to continue his blissful torture. Now he pumped one finger inside and she shifted at the intrusion but he thrust another, filling and stretching her. The pressure of his touch deep inside her tight body was strange. His fingers pressed in and out as far as they could reach and the intense pleasure he gave as he sank his fingers inside weaved its way through her bloodstream until she wanted his touch everywhere.

  Isabella pressed her head back into her pillows, sinking into the abyss. She clenched her muscles tight, not wanting her body to surrender to Roman, but a pulsating and unbearable need grew. Automatically, she tilted her hips to enable him to delve deeper to give her the orgasm that teetered on the horizon. She wove her fingers through his hair, pulling on the strands as he swirled his tongue over her sensitive bundles of nerves. A wild spiraling frenzy of spasms took over her body. A glorious tidal wave of hot, pulsing tingles beckoned louder and louder. Unable to resist, she screamed out his name as her orgasm hit her fast and hard, like Roman himself.

  Wave after wave peaked and crested, pulsing through her core and spreading up through her womb. A delirious craving for the man to possess her completely soared.

  Roman elevated his head, his nostrils flaring and a content smirk plastered on his face. “Mine. All mine.”

  Isabella twisted and stretched. The thrumming between her legs wouldn’t recede, and she clawed at the sheets, needing more. Reaching her arms out, she called for him, her voice strange even to her own ears. “Roman—I need you.”

  Staring down the length of her body now covered under her duvet, with no sign of the vampire prince, she bolted upright, frowning. What the hell? The man moments ago lay between her legs, making love to her. Realization and adrenaline coursed through her. Fear and doubt settled in. A stupid dream—again. The dawn light filtered through the gap in the curtains, and she peered around her empty bedroom.

  Isabella rubbed her forehead. No sign of Roman or his clothes in sight. Examining her damp, skimpy lace camisole and shorts, she sighed with relief. Another dream. As she closed her eyes, recalling her memories. Sinking back against the mattress, she let her hand slip down to her throbbing core. A wetness greeted her fingers as she delved inside, needing release. Damn Roman to hell. Ever since he had whisked her off to her room and gave her an orgasm, dreams invaded. Dreams of him seducing her and the blissful torture he would wield with his expert hands meant no sleep. He plagued her mind as well as her body. The dreams were too good as he teased and taunted her with pleasure, but left her needy and alone.

  Getting to sleep was impossible and her nerves were in shreds after the events of the last week. Isabella planned to keep her distance from the vamp and continue to seduce Jake. She wouldn’t succumb to Roman—she wouldn’t—but damn it, the dreams were blissful torture. The vampire promised he wouldn’t touch her again and that she would have to beg. Well, that would never happen. She would fix this, even if she needed to buy herself a damn vibrator.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Marcus called the team together to discuss who would attend the second meeting in the Veil with the Ancient Ones to coordinate how to defeat the goddess of war, the Morrigan. After discussing the meaning behind Zephra’s vision, their coven finally believed they were on the correct path, but they needed a solid plan to defeat this ruthless goddess, who they had yet to see in her true form.

  Isabella rubbed her neck and adjusted her black knit sweater, rubbing her arms at the cold. Goose bumps exploded up her arms and she shivered. For a moment, she wished she could return to bed to sleep. Last night, her erotic dreams were full of the blasted vamp, and if anyone asked her again whether she was okay, she would scream or throttle them.

  Heading for the coffee machine in the corner, she stuck a disposable cup underneath and poured herself a dark roast to the brim. The caffeine was the only bright glint on her horizon right now. Even using her usual remedy of lavender, vetiver, ylang-ylang, and wild orange in her diffuser did nothing to help her. Her bedroom smelled wonderful, but instead of letting her sleep, she tossed all night as the dreams became more intense. Shaking her head, she pulled her cup out from the Keurig, spun around and slammed into a rigid wall of muscle. The coffee spilled onto the ground and over Jake’s gray shirt.

  “Shit, Sparkles, that’s hot.” Jake lifted his top and a bright-red circle formed on his washboard abs.

  Isabella zeroed in on them, immediately embarrassed at her clumsy action and having hurt Jake. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Let me help you—you need to put some cold water on that burn.”

  Jake’s bright-blue eyes stared at her long and hard. “You all right?”

  His words held meaning and it jolted her. Since the dinner party, their relationship remained strained. He gave her the cold shoulder and to be honest, she avoided him, feeling uncomfortable with the persistent dreams.

  “Me, I’m fine. But I’m glad we’re talking.”

  “Look, I’m sorry about that, but we’re cool, right?”

  “Yeah, we’re cool,” she said, not believing that to be the case.

  “Only—you don’t look right, Sparkles.”

  She knew she looked like hell. Did everyone have to keep reminding her? Anyway, what could she say, especially to Jake? I can’t sleep at night because the vampire prince invades my dreams and seduces me. Revealing the truth wouldn’t go down too well with him. And she had already stepped over the line, in his mind, interfering with Ella and Marcus. Trying to explain her situation would make matters worse.

  “Look, I owe you a meal, Jake Meadows, and lately, well, everything has been shit. What with Steel being in a coma, Ella and Marcus at each other’s t
hroats, it feels like what is going on is hitting us right here. How about after the meeting, you let me cook dinner, nothing fancy, but a meal for the two of us. What do you say?” She actually bit her lower lip, worried he might refuse.

  “You cook, Sparkles? Sounds a bit desperate to me.”

  He could be right. She didn’t recognize herself right now. She spun away to place her cup back under the machine and poured more caffeine.

  “Take it or leave it, Jake. I’m trying to be nice, but my patience is wearing thin and if you want to continue to be an asshole, carry on.”

  Isabella’s patience evaporated. With a trembling hand, she lifted her cup and sipped the strong, fortifying brew. She needed to be focused and alert this morning because both her sisters would be here, watching and judging her. They never missed a beat. She also knew Roman would be here any minute.

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Sparkles.”

  Isabella nodded over her cup, holding it with both hands as she shivered. A sinking sensation told her he was probably right, but she wanted to slip in another kiss to check to see whether maybe this time she reacted differently. As she thought about pushing it, in strolled the elegant prince, dressed in his tailored suit and surrounded by his two bloodthirsty henchmen. They commanded attention wherever they went, with their detached, handsome allure and unflinching expressions as they glided along. Roman didn’t make his way to her, but rather he sauntered over to Marcus and Henry. As he passed her by, his gaze ran her full length and he frowned, as if displeased. He gave a curt nod at them and continued to walk away. Wow, that’s a first. Normally, he would have made some offensive remark. Standing next to Jake, the vamp usually wouldn’t have been able to resist himself. Instead, he did nothing. Maybe his interest in her had peaked and he had found a new playmate. It proved Roman didn’t have real feelings for her; she was nothing more than an amusement, something to pass the time with.