Witch (Cursed book 4) Page 14

  "Oliver."

  "He's lying. He's Jonathan's pawn. He's trying to separate us from the Roses. He wants us on the dark ones’ side."

  Sam shrugged, "Either way, we need to keep the management out of this mission. Lydia will tell Lorri. Lorri might not be on our side."

  "Lorri is a lesbian?"

  Ari looked at Luke and growled, "Focus."

  He shrugged, "What. It just explains so many things."

  Aimee rolled her eyes, "Can we keep the lesbian stereotypes to a minimum and stay focused?"

  Ari put her hands on her hips, "We tell no one."

  Hanna nodded, "We tell no one."

  "We need Ophelia's help. Her sisters and brother have to help us. Plus, we need to know how to get in; we need Oliver to tell us how to get in."

  Sam smirked, "He asked me about Ophelia a million times. It got annoying actually. I bet she can weasel it out of him."

  Luke raised an eyebrow, "Oh shit, he's like Dorian, dude. You don’t want to mess around with them."

  Ari frowned, "She is stronger than Annabelle and Lydia. She could probably kill him."

  Aimee smiled sweetly, "Sam, she has a very strong reaction to your siren thing. You should be the one to tell her to go hang with Oliver and get the way in."

  Sam noticed the way Hanna's eyes flashed. She got up and left the room. Aimee looked satisfied. Sam knew he should feel sorry for Hanna. He could recall the pain she caused him. His body remembered the pain. It didn’t register as pain, just a memory. He got up and followed her to the room.

  "Hanna, wait up."

  She turned, wiping her face. He felt the slightest of twinges in his stomach. It was the first thing he'd felt in days.

  She narrowed her eyes but sighed when she saw the blank stare on his face.

  "I don’t want you to hurt."

  Her shoulders slumped, hollowing out her shoulder blades and throat, "Why can't you just undo it and love me again, Sam?"

  He shook his head, "I don’t know how."

  Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. She took a step toward him, placing her hand on his chest, "I will love you as long as I live. My heart will belong to you forever. Even when a thousand years has passed, and you don’t remember me, every heartbeat will be for you." She leaned in and brushed her soft lips against his cheek. She brushed past him and walked down the wide hallway. He knew that deep down it hurt. His stomach ached in a way he remembered being associated to pain. A tear found its way from his eye. He dragged his hand across his face. The simplicity of the tear was lost in the abyss that had become his heart. He turned and walked along the hall in the opposite direction. He needed to find Ophelia. He needed her to fix him. He felt the black of the world swallowing him.

  His feet walked, his mouth breathed, and his heart beat but nothing felt real.

  The fog in his head kept him preoccupied enough that he nearly walked past Ophelia. She was curled up with a huge old book in the library. He stopped walking and backed up to the doorway. He poked his head in, "Hey, can we talk?"

  She looked up, but her brain took a moment to register him. The book had pulled her in.

  Seeing him, her cheeks flushed, "Oh hey, Sam."

  "I need your help."

  She looked lost when she looked at him. His siren call was worse since he had lost his feelings for Hanna.

  He walked in and sat in the huge over-stuffed, leather chair across from her. He didn’t understand why she was staying at Giselle's too. Everyone had basically left Lydia's, in protest of Giselle's banishment.

  In the dim light of the library she looked young. Her dark hair and one dark eye made her look the way he'd imagine a witch to look. Her light eye looked sick, like a cataract.

  "I need you to get close with Oliver. Get some answers from him. We are going on a rescue mission. We aren’t telling Lydia or Lorri. Their agenda has nothing to do with your sister or Aimee's sister. They just want the plan they have hatched to work, even at the expense of Alise and Abbey."

  She blinked, "Abbey." She spoke the words like she had forgotten about her.

  "Yeah. So we were hoping you'd get the way into the Alaska fortress for us. Oliver knows it. We can't trust him, so you have to be sneaky. Can you do that?"

  She nodded.

  He forced a smile across his lips, "You can keep the secret for us?"

  She nodded again. She looked like a robot around him. He couldn’t understand it. She would do anything he said.

  He watched her eyes, trying hard not to focus on only one, "I need another favor."

  She nodded.

  "I need you to find out about changing me back and fixing my heart."

  "Okay."

  "Oliver said it was possible but you have to find some dark witches to do it."

  "I'll do whatever you want, Sam."

  He sighed. He knew it would be driving him insane if he could feel anything. He was grateful for a moment that he was numb."

  He got up from the chair, "Okay. Thanks, Ophelia."

  She put the book down and got up from the chair. She walked to the room, almost like following his orders. She turned and walked down the hall in the direction of Hanna's old room.

  He flashed into the kitchen. Giselle was sucking the neck of a man against the counter.

  Sam frowned.

  She pulled away, "Derek, I'd like you to meet Tham. Tham, thith ith Derek."

  "Why are you eating your date?"

  "It's my kitchen. I'll eat whoever I want." she laughed.

  Her blood-stained fangs popped back, leaving her with normal, straight teeth covered in blood.

  "Dude, he has a blood disorder. He used to get bled or leached. Like barf. Anyway Jeeves knew about him because of Marcus. Marcus always had a few of them he kept around."

  "Hamish told you he has a blood disorder."

  The man spoke, "I do. I have hemochromatosis. I have to lose a half-liter of blood every week."

  Sam nodded, "Sounds legit. Nice one, Giselle. No more bags for you then, huh?"

  She smiled her blood grin, "Dude, there are millions of these people. It's like the most common shit wrong with people."

  "How did Hamish find you?"

  The man shrugged, "My doctor. He was a friend of that Marcus guy."

  Sam nodded, "So you are part of the blood kept on tap?"

  "I wasn’t before. Marcus liked girls."

  Giselle looped her arm into the man's, "Come on, I'll get Jeeves to take you home."

  Sam sat at the table. He didn’t know why he was in the kitchen. He couldn’t remember why he had come down there.

  His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket.

  "Hello."

  "Sam my boy, Hanna has told me what you've done. Come to the mansion, right away."

  Sam nodded, "Okay, Roland." He flashed from the chair, before he even pressed end on the call.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ophelia

  The bedroom was dark with candles and a fire lit. The air was always damp on the West Coast. She didn’t like it. The East Coast was damp but at least it was warm. She couldn’t recall why she had listened to Sam. Something about him made her want to smell him and cuddle against him. She wanted to make him happy.

  In the firelight, she caught a glimpse of Oliver. He smiled at her from the reading chair next to the hearth.

  "I was wondering when you were going to come and see me."

  She frowned, "I don't really like the way you creep around in my head."

  He laughed and closed the book in his lap. He tilted his head, "I don’t really creep around. It's no different than talking. You just have the ability to read minds. All the strongest witches do."

  She raised an eyebrow and sat in the chair across from him, "Why can't I hear everyone?"

  "You haven’t hit your power yet. At eighteen you'll—well blossom, so to speak. Everything will come into you."

  "How do you know so much about me?"

  "I've been around for a long t
ime."

  "So you're really old?" She felt her lips twist into a grin.

  He laughed. His laugh made her happy.

  "Tell me why you're here, young lady."

  She shrugged, "I just wanted to see you."

  He leaned forward, his beautiful face softened for a moment, "I wish that were true."

  "It is."

  "Did Tristan come for you?"

  She gulped, "Who?"

  "Your brother."

  She felt her eyes dart to the flames licking at the large stone fireplace, "No."

  "Don’t lie to me, Ophelia." He lifted a leg with a shackle, "I only allow this to stop me from killing everyone in here, because I need you. Don’t make that not be the case."

  Her eyes grew wide. She gulped, "He came to me."

  "Did he tell you about my son?"

  She nodded, "He said he was his friend."

  Oliver nodded, "His best friend. The only friend your brother has ever had. His life has been a lonely one."

  "What did he do?"

  "He fell in love with the siren Jonathan keeps as a slave."

  "That’s disgusting."

  Oliver nodded, "He's never understood how to love anything. The darkness filled him early on in our lives here. He became what he is almost as soon as we got here. He let the shadows and taint fill him up."

  Ophelia crossed her arms, "What's your excuse for being evil?"

  His eyes grew dark, "I disagree with our rules. I always saw what Lorri was doing as subjective. She is biased. Dorian has lain with human women. Just because he never reproduced, Lorri never killed him."

  "He has a child. Ari is his."

  Oliver's eyes flashed, "You lie."

  She shook her head, "He never knew."

  "Well then, you can see the hypocrisy for yourself."

  Ophelia shrugged, "I guess. What's it like where Jonathan lives?"

  Oliver nodded and put his hands behind his head. "So do you want me to draw a map or will you remember the things I tell you?" He looked smug.

  She glanced at him, "What?"

  He laughed. His navy dress shirt and dress pants made him look proper and professional. The loafers were the icing on the businessman apparel. The tattoo climbing from the collar of his neckline and out of the rolled up sleeve made her wonder what else there was to him. His blue eyes sparkled in the orange glow. She noticed he was wearing different clothes, "You go home to change?"

  He laughed, "No I just popped over to my apartment and grabbed a shower."

  "You're vain."

  He grinned.

  Her heart fluttered, "You're like Sam, aren’t you? You're making me attracted to you."

  His lip turned up into a lopsided grin, "You're attracted to me?"

  She felt a blush wash over her, "No, I mean you're making me feel things."

  He leaned forward, brushing his fingers along her fingers, "What are you feeling, Ophelia?"

  She shivered, watching his long fingers trace lines along hers.

  "I-I-I don't know. You all make me so confused."

  He pushed his fingers interlaced with her, "I can make you feel things no one else could. I think you're meant for me."

  She looked up from their hands to see his face inches from hers. His warm breath fell upon her lips. She licked them and backed away slowly, "You're messing with me." She remembered the feeling of Jake touching her. She liked it. She liked being touched and held. She liked the thoughts that had burst into her mind when he touched her.

  She swallowed hard.

  Oliver leaned in closer. His size made her feel like a child, "Close your eyes. Blank your mind. Just listen to the fire. Let me in."

  The smell of him wafted into her nose making her heart flutter. She looked at his face. She trusted him. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she did. She closed her eyes. He kept his distance but maintained the contact of their hands. She felt her breath grow ragged as the warm flicker of the fire created flashes in her mind. She listened to the fire cracking the logs. The warmth felt unbearable.

  He massaged his thumb in the palm of her hand, making a flash shoot into her mind. His arms encompassed her. His body wrapped entirely around her. She never struggled. She had no control over the vision. Her body was his to control. The vision was his. His lips brushed along her throat, making sweat start to form along her brow. His hands pulled at her clothes, touching the soft skin beneath. She was amazed at the hardness of his body against the softness of hers. His lips met hers, but before she could feel the kiss, the flash stopped. She breathed through her mouth waiting for the moment to come back. She felt like she was blindfolded. She bit her lower lip waiting for him to continue, but nothing else happened. She opened one eye to see a wide grin spread across his lips, "I take it you liked my imagery?"

  She stood up from the chair, feeling exposed and humiliated. She pulled her hand from his and ran from the room. His laugh echoed in the walls of the massive room.

  She ran into the sitting room to see Aimee and Ari with their heads pressed against each other, "You two can fucking work him over for the details! He's not as stupid as you think he is. He knows we want the map." She turned and ran to her room.

  She closed the door, trying to ignore the shake of her hands. She put a hand to her face, feeling the flush and warmth. She sighed and climbed onto her bed. She lay back, fighting the image of him lying on the bed with her. She realized as she heard his footsteps in her room, the image had been her bed and not his.

  She opened her eyes to him walking across the room. He knelt at her bed and scooped her into his arms. He slid her across the bed. His fingers were everywhere at once. She pushed his hands from her face and instantly they were sliding through her hair and pulling at her t-shirt. His mouth slid along her neck creating a fire inside of her. She gasped at him, but before she could speak, his lips were on hers. They parted hers. His tongue licked at her lips. He sucked her bottom lip. She pushed his face back, but his hands slid her shirt up exposing her light-blue bra. He slid a thumb across her nipple under the padding. She trembled with fear and excitement.

  "You laughed at me." she spoke into the dark-blond hair of his bent head.

  He looked up from her throat, "I was laughing with you."

  She raised an eyebrow, "I wasn’t laughing and you're old and friends with my evil dad."

  His English accent grew thicker, "I've changed, love."

  She shook her head, "No, you haven’t. You're trying to seduce me. I'm a seventeen-year-old girl."

  He laughed, "It's true." He looked up through his lashes, "Is it working?"

  She swallowed hard, "No." Her voice was a squeak. He laughed. He flashed from on top of her to beside her. She nearly tumbled forward, but he pulled her to the other side of the bed.

  "Okay, we can talk then if you prefer."

  She frowned, "How old are you?"

  He pressed his swollen lips against her cheek, "Old. I don’t have a number. There was no time when I was born. I was a star and then I was a man."

  "Did you watch over the earth?"

  He nodded, kissing her neckline and dragging his tongue over her collarbone.

  "You're bad at talking." She shoved him away.

  He pulled her in tighter, "If I'd known you existed, I would have watched you every day. I would be a star again in a heartbeat to spend every moment watching you."

  She started to giggle, "You're intense. We met like days ago."

  He shook his head, "I think I always knew I would meet you. Maybe not you, as in Jonathan's daughter, but you as you are. If we were peasants in towns across the world, I would have found my way to you."

  He kissed the end of her nose. She watched his face, trying to find a flaw to focus on, but he was perfect.

  "Sleep." He pulled her into him.

  She laughed, "I can't sleep with you here. What if you do something creepy to me in my sleep."

  He looked offended, "You honestly believe me capable of that? If I do creepy things
to you, I want you to be awake for it."

  "That’s creepy, just saying that is creepy."

  "Well, aren’t you glad you're awake then?"

  "No, I wish I was sleeping and this was all a dream."

  "You feel it when you're with me, don’t you? You feel that we are meant to be together?"

  She laughed again, "This is so fucked. I need to find my ruby slippers so I can click my heels, and then go home and graduate, and go to college like a normal girl."

  "Well, if this were Oz, I think I would be a wizard to your Dorothy. I would force you to stay with me forever and never go home."

  She smiled, feeling sleep taking her, "No, you would be the Tin Man. You wouldn’t have known you had a heart, all along." Her eyes got heavy and she fell asleep, feeling his lips against her forehead and his warm breath in her hair.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sam

  Roland looked older and more worn.

  "You can fix it, but you have to go to the dark witches."

  Sam nodded, "I know. I just don’t know where they are."

  Roland rubbed his forehead. He sat in the comfy, worn chair in the den that looked out of place, compared to the niceties everywhere. He brought his glass of scotch and ice up to his lips and sipped at it for a moment. Sam watched him silently.

  "Lydia was raised by dark witches. She grew up in the South. They had been teaching her to be a dark witch, when Annabelle and her grandmother stole her, and raised her in the light. A lot of the dark witches live in the South. It's the reason Lydia came to the west Coast. They were trying to escape the hunters, the dark hunters."

  Sam didn’t know the story of Lydia at all. She never shared details.

  "How do you know this?"

  Roland smiled, "I come from a very dark and powerful family. I grew up in England, but a couple hundred years ago I came to the New World. I met Lydia then."

  Sam frowned, "What are you?"

  "Fae. I'm a Were."

  Sam raised an eyebrow, "Why can't we smell it on you?"

  "I don’t shift, ever. It's why I'm aging so rapidly. I never let the magic touch me."

  "You loved Hanna's mom, didn’t you?"