Witch (Cursed book 4) Read online

Roland nodded, he looked broken. "A long time ago. She loved me back."

  "Fae are a hard one to avoid for us."

  Roland laughed bitterly, "I made it pretty easy for her." He cut off his laugh with a sigh, "I loved her so much. I swore I would protect her forever. She met the doctor and that was it for me."

  "Why didn’t you leave?"

  Roland's dark eyes looked stricken, "I had already made a bond with her. I would feel her. I would love her. I would serve her."

  Sam felt his face twist, "She let you?"

  He nodded slowly, "She did."

  "That's sick."

  Roland sipped his drink, "Perhaps, but it was the way things were done. The doctor and I suffered together. Both stricken with the same illness, us and Marcus."

  "Is that why she had the match broken, to remove the effects on you all?"

  Roland's face crumpled painfully, "She almost killed me that day. I was the only one blood bonded to her. The pain was unbearable. She broke all the bonds. The doctor never knew but Marcus did. She acted so well that she was in love with the doctor, that Marcus believed that she had broken the match, and rematched with the doctor. She did it to spare him, he truly was the only human. I was Fae and Marcus was vampire. Her pity for us was not great. Her pity for the doctor and wanting a normal life drove her to the decision."

  "Then when she couldn't love her own child, she took her life?"

  Roland's eyes flashed with anger, "Young man, you will never repeat that story. If Hanna knew…"

  Sam shook his head. "She will never hear it from my lips."

  Roland looked broken, "When the young miss came into our lives everything got better. But the act grew too stressful on her. In the moment of her death, I saw her for the weak thing she was. I let Marcus believe that she did it to stop him and his lust for her. With no match she was almost impossible to be around. The bracelet calmed it but never took it from her. The day she did it was the worst day of my life." His old eyes filled with tears.

  Sam had no pity or remorse, though he wished he did.

  "The best day was when Miss Hanna came home to live here. I see all the best things of her mother and father inside of her." He looked up at Sam, "You must fix what you have done to her. It hurts Sam. It hurts so much."

  Sam nodded, "I will try Roland."

  "You will keep my secret?"

  Sam nodded.

  "Take Ophelia to Alabama. There is a region called Lillian. It is named for a black witch. Ophelia can find them. Be careful. No matter what, trust no one and if it gets dangerous, flash the pair of you out of there."

  "Should I bring Hanna?"

  Roland shook his head, "She will be sacrificed for the things inside of her. Marcus used her blood for all sorts of unsavory things for a reason. It contains things that can be used for very bad acts."

  Sam stood up from the chair, "I'm sorry for your losses, Roland."

  Roland smiled a sad grin, "I know you are incapable of sorrow, my son. You are incapable of all feelings. But thank you for the sentiment."

  Sam smiled, "I wish I could take it back. I wish I was able."

  "Can Ari change the fate?"

  Sam shook his head, "Too risky. Ophelia is such a major piece of all of the puzzles, that if we don’t tread carefully with her, the world is at stake."

  "Understood. Safe travels, my son."

  Sam put his hand out for the old man to take.

  "Let me know when you’ve had enough."

  Roland chuckled, "Oh, not yet. I have an arrangment with Miss Aimee."

  Sam smiled, "Fair enough."

  Sam flashed back to the mansion. He was sleepy and feeling lost in the story. Sirens really were the worst of the magic world. He wished he had never laid eyes on Hanna. He knew his heart would argue if it had a voice.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ophelia

  She woke feeling cramped and sweaty. She looked down at her clothes and sneakers. She had fallen asleep still dressed. She kicked her shoes off and slid her jeans down. She pulled her t-shirt off and savored the night air on her sweaty, naked skin.

  "I was going to do that, but I did promise nothing creepy."

  She sat up, covering herself. Oliver sat in the chair next to the window.

  "You're really here?"

  "Yes, and I really just saw you in your skivvies."

  She pulled the quilt up and covered up, "You need to go back to your room."

  He shook his head and stood from the chair. In the silver moonlight his form filled the window. She watched as he unbuttoned a few of the buttons on his shirt and then pulled it up over his head. She felt the breath get sucked out of her chest. His tattoos were beautiful. The one that went up his neck partway was a blade, the hilt of it rested on his heart. His stomach had one on the side of it that dipped into his pants on his hip. It was a dark shape with a word running down the side of it. His right arm had one that wrapped around his shoulder and ran down his arm to his forearm. She looked at it, trying to see it in the moonlight but couldn’t. He dropped the shirt to the floor. She pulled at the blankets. He looked twenty-two but she couldn’t get past the feeling he was old.

  He knelt on the bed. He bit his lower lip. She couldn’t help but stare at it.

  "What are you thinking?"

  She pushed her thoughts at him. He grinned, "You think I'm old."

  She laughed.

  He sat on the bed, looking dangerous, like a boy her father would have warned her about.

  "Can you imagine what you'll feel like in one hundred years, Ophelia?"

  She shook her head, "Dead. I guess."

  "But you'll live forever. Humans age but they don’t feel different. Ask any of them—physically they feel the age but mentally they feel as they did when they were twenty."

  "But you have always been."

  He shook his head, "Not so. I had a birth. It just wasn’t like yours. I was born in the night sky. I've always been made of magic. I'm not so different from you."

  He took her hand and placed it on the hilt of the sword where his heart beat. It was lazy, compared to the rapid beat of her own.

  "My heart beats."

  She left her hand over his heartbeat, but instead of laying it there, she traced the tattoo. He closed his eyes. She leaned into him, letting the covers fall. She climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  He opened his eyes. She pressed her hands on his chest, feeling the heat pour from his skin.

  "Why do I feel this way with you?"

  His arms wrapped around her back, "Every soul has its mate. You are mine."

  "How long have you known?"

  "The minute you uncloaked yourself. I sent a friend to check on you."

  She pushed back, "The wolf who tried to eat me?"

  He shook his head, "No, what wolf?"

  She watched his face, "The one who tried to eat me but was thinking disgusting things about me. His mind was easy to read."

  Oliver grabbed her shoulders, "What wolf? What did he think?"

  She shook her head, "He kept saying he liked witches. He was excited I was a witch. I'm not repeating the rest. It was sick."

  Oliver sighed, "Jon."

  "Who?"

  "Have they told you about Aleks yet?"

  She nodded, "Yeah Ari told me. Sad story."

  Oliver held her tightly, "Did they tell you everything?"

  She shrugged, "I don’t know. They told me about his dad being a cursed shape shifter werewolf who, oh my God. You think it's him?"

  Oliver nodded.

  "Why?"

  "Because of what you are. Jon killed a girl, before her powers had hit. She was a typical witch; her powers never hit when she was young. Her father was a very important man. He was from the pure lines of the Fae. His mother was the daughter of Lillith who married the elf."

  "You know this sounds like Lord of the Rings."

  "You know the guy who wrote Lord of the Rings knew about us all."

  Sh
e rolled her eyes, "Figures."

  "Anyway, the daughter who stayed with the elves, Marianne, she gave birth to twin boys. Henry and Ethan. Henry never married but Ethan married a witch. She gave birth to a girl. The girl was Ethan's life. He taught her everything he knew about the earth and magic. He loved her more than anything. Being such a close part of Lillith and part witch, she attracted attention. She was beautiful. Jon watched her, a lot. He waited for his chance. He captured her and did unspeakable things to her. Then he murdered her."

  "That’s horrid."

  "It was. When Aleks, who was thirteen at the time, found his father in the woods with the dead girl, he took her body and hid it and covered up the murder. He never told anyone what he'd done. Ethan looked everywhere for his daughter. Finally, he traded his goodness to the taint. He used dark magic to find out the truth of the matter. Destroyed by the fact she was dead and so badly used, he lost his mind. Instead of killing Jon, he cursed him. Ethan assumed the townspeople had known about what had happened and helped Jon cover it up. Ethan made him into a monster that would kill all of their daughters. He would destroy all of their lives and never be able to be killed. He then cursed the young boy who had helped cover it up, to clean up after his father every day of his life. He made it so Aleks was an immortal who would rise when killed and forever find his joy in life, feeding off the pain and misery his father's acts created."

  Ophelia shivered, "That’s sick. Why didn’t he just kill him?"

  Oliver looked down, "The darkness is strong and when you let it get hold of you, it makes your choices for you. More chaos comes from the decision made to create a monster instead."

  "Where is Ethan now? Maybe he can fix Jon."

  Oliver pulled the blankets off the bed and wrapped them around her, "No, he died. Henry killed him."

  She snuggled into his chest feeling all of the sexual energy gone, "He killed his own brother?"

  "Yes. He took his power. He had to. Ethan had become dark. The darkness ate him up and nothing of the kind shaman was left."

  "That’s a sad story.” she yawned.

  He lifted her up and laid her down on the bed. He lay next to her and wrapped himself around her, "No sadder than the others. Each of the Roses has a story that can parallel it."

  She closed her eyes and savored the heat coming off of him, "But Aleks died, never killing his father or redeeming himself."

  "Yes, but at least his curse was lifted."

  "How?"

  "Henry."

  "Henry the brother?"

  Oliver nodded against her head, "Dorian went to Henry and swore to him that he would kill Aleks' father and end the pain caused. He also swore something he will never be able to give."

  She tilted her head up, "What?"

  "That he would get Lillith to bless the remains of his niece and save her soul. The victims of Aleks' dad are haunted. When Ethan made the curse upon Jon, he never realized his daughter’s spirit walked the earth still. He cursed his own child to a lifetime in the in between."

  "Aimee's mom."

  Oliver nodded, "There are hundreds of them. A lot of them are witches who have yet to reach their age of power. He loves witches."

  She shook her head, trying to fight the memory of his muzzle trying to leap through the door at Jake.

  "I will convince my mom to save them all."

  Oliver kissed the top of her head, "Uh huh." She tried not to notice the patronizing tone he took as she drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sam

  Seeing her wrapped up in his arms, made him notice the emptiness. He should have been angry that she was sleeping with the fallen. He wondered if she was using her body to trick the angel into giving away the secrets of the frozen fortress.

  He cleared his throat.

  Ophelia looked up and fixed the blankets. She blushed, looking up at the half-naked man in her bed.

  "I'll wait for you in the kitchen."

  She nodded.

  He left the room, missing the feeling of being uncomfortable.

  Giselle was staring out the window in the hallway. She looked classically beautiful, leaning against the massive window, hiding from the light.

  "You can go out. The sun won't burn you."

  She hissed at him, "Says the boy who has never been burned by the sun."

  He rolled his eyes, "How's the kingdom going?"

  Despair crossed her face, "Not great. I wish Marcus was back. I hate this. Yesterday I had to kill a little boy. He was like three-hundred-years old and he was this little brat. Anyway, he murdered three little girls. Drained them completely."

  Sam nodded, "Yeah, doesn’t sound great."

  She shook her head, "I miss Lydia's. I miss Annabelle. She used to give these baths."

  Sam held a hand up, "I know, I know."

  She sighed, "I just want to go home. I don’t like it here. Jeeves is sassy too."

  Sam rolled his eyes, "Giselle, his name is Hamish for the millionth time. No wonder he's saucy."

  She turned her back on the curtain and waved, "Peace out, bitch. I'm going to bed."

  He shook his head, turned and walked to the kitchen.

  Ophelia came running in, pulling her shirt on over a tank top.

  "What's up?"

  "We need to go to Alabama."

  She frowned, "What? Why?" She grabbed a bag of marshmallows and started eating them.

  "That’s disgusting."

  She stuck her tongue out, "Anyway."

  He looked out the doorway to the massive kitchen and spoke in a hushed tone, "We need to go find the black witches of the South. They live in some place called Lillian.”

  She shrugged, "I'll do anything you want, Sam."

  He hated his effect on her. He nodded and put a hand out. She touched it and suddenly they were standing in the yard of a small white house.

  He sighed when she saw them standing in the yard, looking puzzled.

  Beth frowned, "Sam?"

  He took a step forward, "Aunt Beth."

  She hugged him tight, her hand shook slightly.

  "Did you find her, sweetie?"

  "No. Jonathan has her still but the children are safe. Lydia and Annabelle are spoiling them rotten."

  She looked past him at Ophelia. He felt her stiffen.

  "Why would you bring her here?"

  Ophelia looked around, "You know the dark witches?"

  Sam held his aunt’s arms, "This is Ophelia. She is..."

  "We know who she is Sam. Why would you bring her here?"

  He sighed, "She's done a spell on me and I wanted to know if any of you knew how to reverse it."

  Beth felt him with her hands, she squeezed his arm. She looked back at the others starting to come out in the front yard from the other houses surrounding them.

  "What have you done?"

  Sam shook his head, "I made a mistake."

  Beth looked at her, "You have the stain of magic on you. A protection guard spell. Who did it?"

  Ophelia looked confused, "I don’t know. I didn’t know I was a witch until like two weeks ago."

  "Sam, her magic hasn’t come in yet. Why would she have done magic on you, if she has limited magic?"

  He sighed, "She broke my match for me."

  Gasps filled the air around them. Some of the women ran back into their houses. The others held crystals and spoke in hushed tones. Ophelia's face flushed. She looked embarrassed and confused.

  "I asked her to do it."

  An old woman he didn’t recognize stepped forward, "I know how, but it won’t be worth it to you."

  He frowned, "Why?"

  "You'll be enslaved to her. The only fixing it makes you her blood-bond slave."

  He thought about Roland and the pain and anguish, and shook his head, "There is nothing else?"

  "Not unless you go to the black witches. Even then, the only fixing it might end up with you matched with the witch who does the spell."

  He looked back at Ophelia.
Was feeling love worth feeling it for a girl who didn’t love him back, but was fixated on him because of his siren call?

  "Okay. Well thanks. We have to go."

  He watched as the other witches looked in awe. The older witch he didn’t know spoke to her, "Have you met the others?"

  Ophelia shook her head, "What others?"

  "Your sisters?"

  Ophelia paled, "I have."

  "I don’t envy you, child."

  Ophelia frowned, "Yeah, it sounds like an awful lot. I have to kill my brother and my mother, and then my sisters will give me their power. Only then, can I help defeat my father and free the world from the evil. I feel like Frodo."

  A younger witch snickered. Sam smiled at her reference. Aimee had forced the three movies on him a while back. He remembered the feeling of liking them.

  Ophelia glanced at him. He nodded, "We have to go. She can't be out and about without attracting her father's attention."

  Beth squeezed his hands, "I miss you son. Come home more often."

  He hugged Beth, "I will." He wanted to feel the warmth of her. He wanted to enjoy the relief of coming home. But his heart was empty.

  He took Ophelia's hand. She squeezed it. He squeezed back. He looked deeply into Beth's dark-brown eyes and smiled weakly.

  The muggy heat of Alabama hit fast and hard.

  He felt the tension of the black magic in the air.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ophelia

  The feeling of nausea and disgust filled her as they took their first steps.

  "It's hot. It's too hot here. I feel something not good, Sam."

  He nodded. She couldn’t help but love him in a messed-up stalker sort of way. She blushed watching him walk.

  "Stay close. I need to be able to flash us instantly."

  She watched his lips move when he talked. They were perfect.

  "I think we need to go this way." He pointed to a road.

  She felt her stomach tighten. She wished Oliver were with her. She felt safe with him, unless he was wearing a dress shirt or anything that let the smallest slip of his tattoos hang out.

  "You okay?"

  She blushed and smiled at Sam, "Sorry."

  He put a hand out, "I need to flash us forward. Probably smart for us to hold hands anyway. Easier for me to flash us home."