Charmed and Dangerous: An Appalachian Magic Novel (Appalachian Magic Series Book 1) (23 page)

T
he smell
of bacon and coffee floated through the air, helping to dispel some of the heavy gloom.

Callie carried a plate of food to where Grandma Jo sat.

“Breakfast is ready.” She tried to put a small note of cheerfulness in her voice. Her heart ached for Mom too, but she had to be strong for Grandma Jo. Her grandmother was always the steady one, but now it was her turn.

“I’m not hungry,” she said, staring out the window.

“Please. You haven’t eaten in days. You need your strength.”

“No,” Grandma Jo said flatly.

Time for a different tactic. “I won’t eat unless you do.”

Her grandmother tried to smile. “Playing a guilt trip on me?”

“Whatever it takes.” She set up a tray, and they ate in silence.

Grandma Jo leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “Thanks. I feel better now.”

“You look exhausted. We didn’t get much sleep between talking to the police and making the . . . you know, arrangements.” Her throat tightened.

Grandma Jo closed her eyes. “I’ll try to take a nap.”

She gathered the dirty dishes and worked up the courage to ask Grandma Jo what had been eating at her heart. “I hate to bring this up, but . . . why did Mom die right after my father? I mean, it’s weird.”

Grandma Jo opened her eyes. “People sometimes literally die from broken hearts.”

“But they’d been apart for years.”

“I don’t think Ginnie ever stopped loving him.”

“Even if that’s true, dying of a broken heart seems like it would at least take a few days.”

“The coroner ruled it heart failure. That’s all I can tell you.”

There was more to it, but now wasn’t the time to push.

Grandma Jo rubbed her eyes. “While I sleep, why don’t you run over and see James? Bring him back with you if he’s up to it. You might need his moral support when everyone starts dropping by.”

“If you’re sure—”

“Go on. I’ll wash the dishes later.”

Callie kissed her cheek. “I won’t stay too long.”

A
s she feared
, Carter answered the door. She squared her shoulders. “I’d like to see James if he’s awake.”

“Come on in.” He opened the door wider.

She followed him inside and sat on the sofa.

“Sorry about your mother.” He sat across from her in a leather recliner. “It hurts to lose family, and you’re awfully young.”

Was that a dig? One of his many objections in the past had been that she was too young, unlike the perfect Theodora.

“Thank you,” she said with cautious politeness. She refused to talk about Mom. He probably thought the only good witch was a dead witch.

Carter sighed. “Look, I haven’t socialized with witches since …” His voice trailed off. “A long time. And I shouldn’t have tried to get James back with Theodora.” He flushed, looking as uncomfortable as she felt. “James gave me hell about that.”

“Good.” The word slipped out before she could filter her response. “I mean . . . forget it.”

He let out a sigh in relief. “I promise no more interference.”

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. And he had been good to James when he first became immortal and needed to learn their ways.

“I haven’t heard any news. Was anybody killed when you drove out my dad’s coven?”

“A few.” He shrugged indifferently. “Once immortals engage in a fight one-on-one, there’s usually no stopping until one dies.”

“James told me that’s changing.”

“If you can learn to tame the animalistic instinct to kill and conquer.”

She wondered if she needed taming. “What about female immortals? Do they have death matches like men?”

“Not the few I’ve met. They do have an immediate, irrational dislike for one another though.” Carter stood. “Go and see James. I was fixin’ to go into town.”

She also stood. “Thanks for your help that night.”

“In a way, it was invigorating. I hadn’t battled for centuries.” He waved and headed out. “James is in his room,” he called over his shoulder.

There was something more than a little bloodthirsty about immortals. She had a lot to learn.

She climbed the spiral staircase with growing anticipation. At the door to his room, she rapped softly. She put her ear to the door but heard nothing, so she turned the knob and stuck her head in.

“James?” she whispered. If he was sleeping, she didn’t want to startle him. Callie entered and stepped noiselessly into the dark, quiet room.

He was sprawled in bed fast asleep. She tiptoed over and stopped at the edge of the four-poster bed. He’d never looked sexier. He lay on his right side, sporting a two-day beard stubble. His dark brown hair was disheveled against the white pillow. Her gaze drifted down to his bare chest, and she stared, mesmerized, at the rippling muscles and the curling tendrils of chest hair. Her eyes roamed farther, down to where the sheet met the hard plane of his hips and abs. Her heart beat faster.

She knelt on the floor beside him, face even with his. Callie touched his cheek and stroked the new growth of hair on his face.

The response wasn’t what she expected. In a mere two seconds he awoke, reaching for a weapon. He turned to his left and pulled out a sword concealed under the sheets. Jumping to his feet, he crouched on the bed in a fighting stance, sword raised above his head with both hands.

And he was naked.

“What the—? Callie, what are you doing here?” His expression changed from astonishment to embarrassment. He snatched the sheet and tied it around his waist.

“You look like a Roman nobleman wrapped in a toga.” And then she couldn’t help it. She laughed so hard, tears ran down her cheeks. For the first time in days, her sorrow lifted. Just as quickly, the laughter died, and she cried for real.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. His warmth and strength comforted her as she inhaled his familiar soap and leather scent. The amber slightly stung her neck.

“Carter told me she died. A heart attack. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“So the coroner ruled, but I’m not so sure.

James held her at arm’s length. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind. I really don’t want to talk about it right now.” She’d been holding in the grief since the solstice, partly from shock and partly to be strong for Grandma Jo. Finally, it felt safe to let go.

He could have held her for two minutes or two hours, but eventually she pushed out of his embrace. “I’m better now.”

James pulled her back to him and delivered a long, slow kiss that wiped out every thought except her body’s need to be joined with his. She sank into the mattress, and he sank with her, his weight pressing down on top of her body. Anticipation fevered her brain. This wouldn’t be like the clumsy, quick sex with old what’s-his-name who had dumped her for another. This was James. A man she loved and adored.

A sexy man.

He shifted his body to her side and caressed her breasts. She groaned and arched against him. With practiced hands, he unsnapped her bra from behind. His lips found her hard nipples, and he suckled them through the soft cotton fabric.

Dear. Freaking. Goddess.

Quickly, Callie shucked off jeans and panties and then lifted the shirt and bra over her head. He watched her with dark, smoldering eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he ground out huskily.

She returned to his side, naked skin against naked skin. His erection pressed into the apex of her thighs, hard and insistent.

She did this to him. Talk about power—no spell could compare to the pride she felt in knowing her effect on his body.

His fingers explored her folds and then entered. She rocked against him, her passion mounting.

“Now,” she groaned. “I want you now. Seems I’ve waited forever.”

“You’ve no idea,” he said, partly chuckling, partly moaning. “I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you on Lavender Mountain.”

Callie raised her hips, pressing her core against his erection. “Stop talking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And he was in her. Filling and stretching her. And it still wasn’t enough. She arched her back and rocked against him, meeting his thrusts. Until at last . . . at last . . . her body found its more-than-satisfactory release.

James lay beside her stroking her hair, and she felt suddenly shy.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He raised a brow. “For making love to the most gorgeous woman ever? I should be thanking you.”

She giggled. “Not that. Well, sort of. What I mean is . . .” Her face heated. “I’ve never, you know . . . had one of
those
before.”

“An orgasm?”

She nodded and buried her head in his chest. Why did she have to admit that? He’d probably had so many over the last hundred years that this was nothing special to him.

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting her chin with a finger. “It won’t be the last.”

The tender amusement in his eyes dispelled her shyness. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

He abruptly sat up and smacked his forehead. “I’m such an ass. Here you are upset about your mom, and all I want to do is make love.” He walked to a dresser and pulled out underwear and a pair of jeans.

“Don’t be hard on yourself. I was enjoying myself too, you know.” Quickly, she dressed in the clothes she’d thrown on the floor.

James’s jaw was tight when he walked back and took her hand mid-stride, not even pausing as he led her out of the bedroom. He continued his brisk pace all the way to the den as she struggled to keep up.

“You’re not throwing me out of the house, are you?”

He laughed. “No, but if you stayed naked in my bed, I’d never let you leave.” He seemed his usual, controlled self again. “How long have I been out of it?”

“Two days.”

“I haven’t missed your mom’s funeral then.” His face registered relief. “I want to help you get through it; I know how hard it is to lose a parent. Ginnie was a remarkable woman.”

She put a hand to her throat. “Can’t, I can’t . . . please . . . I want to escape from it all a couple of hours before I have to go home again and be strong for Grandma Jo.”

He hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “I understand, baby. I’ve been through it. Many times.” He pasted a determined smile on his sharp features. “I’m starving, haven’t eaten a real meal since . . . well, you know. Dad woke me for a few minutes at a time to make me drink water. Now I need protein, like a big, thick steak.”

“Take a shower and shave, and I’ll fix you something. You’re still recovering. I don’t want you overdoing it.” She opened the refrigerator and rummaged. Staying busy kept her mind from reliving the image of Mom’s lifeless body.

“Great. Maybe I’ll feel more human after a long shower.” He opened the freezer, removed a package of frozen meat, and put it in the microwave. “I’ll set it to defrost. The pots and pans are over here.” As he started to leave, he tripped and grabbed the kitchen counter to steady himself.

“I knew it. You’re still weak. Lie down on the couch while I cook. I don’t want you drowning in the shower.”

He faced her, his face set and hard again.

“Didn’t mean to insult your male ego,” she said. “Anyone would be tired after—”

“I remember something else.” His eyes darkened. “Ginnie wasn’t the only one who died. After I killed Connors, I went to you. You weren’t breathing. I tried to find your pulse, but …”

She went to where he leaned against the counter, one hand gripping it tightly, the other balled in a fist at his side.

“I’m okay now.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you. Guess this is it.” She took a deep breath. “I found out during my initiation. I’m immortal.”

“What?” His mouth dropped open. “But . . . I don’t get it. I know immediately when I’m in the presence of another immortal. We have a primal, highly sensitive antenna when it comes to spotting another of our kind. How could I not know you were one? Dad couldn’t tell it either.” His eyes narrowed. “Neither did Connors.”

“But it’s true. I died, but I came back.” She imagined many things in this moment but not that James wouldn’t believe her.

“Callie, I understand. I wasn’t going to ask right now, what with your mom . . . well, you know, the timing isn’t the best. I was going to wait.”

“Wait for what?” Her heart pounded. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I’m trying to tell you I love you. I don’t care if you’re mortal and a witch on top of that. I only want to be with you.”

She opened her mouth, but no words came. She wanted to throttle him for thinking she lied about being immortal. As if she made it up to snag him. But . . . he wanted her anyway, even thinking she would one day die and turn against him for not growing old with her.

The amber pendant on her throat vibrated, filling her with a low-level tingle of awareness, something it had never done before. The amber became warmer, uncomfortably warmer, and she raised a hand to touch it.

He grabbed her arm and stopped her. “That thing is actually
glowing
. Does it hurt?”

She shook her head, as surprised as he.

James carefully touched it with one finger and then quickly drew it back as if burned. “You always wear this, don’t you?” he asked, eyes glued to the pendant.

“Always. Mom gave it to me when I was twelve. She said it was for my protection and to never be without it.”

“Protection from what?”

She shrugged. “Everything I guess. Especially my dad.”

“Take it off.” James tore his gaze from the amber to her face. “I believe I know why your mother gave you this.”

She undid the clasp and held the warm, glowing charm in her hands.

“Set it on the counter, away from you.”

She laid it carefully on the granite countertop and faced James.

He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before in his life.

“What is it?” she asked anxiously. “I don’t feel any different. Why are you—?”

“You really are immortal,” he said in wonder.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, but—”

He lifted her in the air and spun her around. “I love you, Callie. I knew the minute we met you were special. I just didn’t know
how
special.”