I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series) (31 page)

I’m positively not in the mood to hear about is his prior sexcapades with other women. I slink under my covers, crouching away from our shared intimate moment.

“Anna, I can’t risk hurting you,” he says, looking at me with apprehension.

“Why, because you need me? Or because you care?”

“Both,” he replies point blank.

Well, isn’t this fanfriggintastic?! What do I say to that? An uncomfortable stillness fills the room. Valen seems to be struggling between his desires and the harsh reality of his nature. I want to protest and eliminate his concerns, but I remain tightlipped. He’s a grown man capable of making up his own mind. I won’t be responsible for his regrets. I roll on my side, with my back to him. Ever perceptive, he gathers his composure and walks out of my bedroom. Seconds later, I hear my front door slam. Curious, I climb from my bed and rush to the window. Sliding the drapes, I peek outside. His car is still parked in my driveway. I scan the lawn for him, but the night cloaks everything in black. Minutes later, I hear a long, dreadful howl. He must be burning off some wolfy steam… lucky dog. I block him from my mind and refuse to spend anymore time dwelling on my shitty circumstances.
You
two can never be together, Anna
. Yawning, I lie in bed after willing my mind to find Janie in the channels of my dreams.

***

A fluttering in my heart seizes my breath. I’m in Micah’s chambers again. The sweet smell of lavender and vanilla tingle in my nose. I scour the room hesitantly, hoping he’s not here. I know it’s a dream, but it doesn’t make it any less unnerving. A shadow climbs the wall as a figure approaches in the hallway. Janie enters the room, unaware I’m standing directly in front of her. She stops before a long, marble table. Sliding her hand in the velvet pouch swinging from her shoulder, she pulls out various bottles of all shapes and sizes. The sound of liquid sloshing is the only racket in the otherwise quiet room. Methodically, she arranges them into a straight line, organizing them by height.

“Janie,” I whisper. I creep towards her, meticulously aware of my surroundings. “Janie,” I murmur in her ear. She shows no indication of hearing or seeing me. I lightly graze her shoulder, watching as she rubs the spot that I touched. Is this a dream? Suddenly, her behavior shifts from detached to edgy and her hands tremble uncontrollably. Footsteps echo through the hallway, bouncing off the curved ceiling. Fear fills Janie’s glossy brown eyes as she watches the ominous shadows grow. Micah walks through the threshold, followed by a figure that remains under the cover of shadows.

“Ah, Janie, how are you?” Micah inquires. He walks over to her, unraveling her fingers, which are tightly fastened around a long necked bottle. Janie doesn’t respond. “The spell must be wearing off.” He looks at her trembling hands. “By the looks of it, your body is beginning the withdrawal stage... how sad," he continues, pouting his lips in a demeaning gesture.

Micah snaps his fingers at the man, motioning for him. I inhale sharply as Shane appears from the shadows. Suddenly, everything makes sense: Martello’s warning, my intuition, and the strange haze that he used to capture me pops into my mind. He looks at Janie, flashing his oily smile.

“Sallas, take her to the cells. I have no use for her now. Let her see what real pain feels like,” Micah says, grinning.

Shane’s real name is Sallas? Figures he would lie to me.

“What…? What do you mean?” she questions in a tiny voice.

Micah snaps around, narrowing his eyes at her. “What’s so puzzling? Your services are no longer needed. Your sister knows you’re here, and soon she will come to me.”

“No! You leave her alone!”

In a flash, Micah's hand grasps Janie's throat, lifting her in the air. Her feet dangle three feet off the ground. Ferociously, she scrapes his arms in a weak attempt at freedom. Unexpected power builds inside me, clearing my mind. My hands automatically thrust out in front of me, to prepare for its release. Waves of light burst from my palms, crashing into Micah, and knocking him off his feet. I look down at my hands in amazement before realizing this isn’t a dream. Janie falls to the floor, gasping for breath. Micah’s astounded expression is priceless. He stands up swiftly, canvassing the room in lightning speed, while searching every nook and cranny. I smirk at my small victory.

He looks down at Janie, lying on the floor. “It seems as though your sister is more powerful than I thought,” he says in disgust.

A satisfying smile rests in the corner of Janie’s mouth. Micah nods as Sallas grips her shoulders and forces her onto her feet. He pushes her towards the hallway, making a hasty exit.

“My dear Anna,” his velvet voice says, “soon, my love, soon.”

***

I wake up, beaming. Sunlight pours through my window, splashing its golden glow all over my floor. I jump in the shower, excited to start the day. I toss on a pink tank top and workout pants. I lace my sneakers and grab the
Book of Worlds
before rushing downstairs. The smell of bacon welcomes me as I pad into the kitchen. Martello's at the stove, flipping strips of bacon and stirring a pan of potatoes. The sizzle and aroma of a home-cooked meal instantly comfort me.

"Girl, it's about time you woke up," Martello says, eyeing me suspiciously.

"What time is it?"

"Eleven."

"I guess I needed more sleep," I reply guiltily.

"Well, go on then, sit down," he says, pointing the spatula at the table.

My eyes follow it, straight into Valen's gaze. I walk over and take the furthest seat from him. "Good morning," I say with fake enthusiasm. He nods in response. The tension between us is overpowering.

"I had an interesting dream," I announce, determined to avoid the elephant in the room. I’ll have to start charging it rent, seeing as it's such a frequent visitor.

"Oh yeah, what about?" Martello asks.

Valen's eyes fix on me. I pull my thoughts away, eagerly reiterating my contact with Janie. I explain Shane's presence, Janie’s spell detox, and how I blasted Micah with my light energy thingy.

"Well, girl, get down with your bad self," Martello says, pouring thick bacon grease over the potatoes and coating them in a tasty sheen. My stomach growls in anticipation.

I look at Valen, whose eyes reveal nothing. He clears his throat.

"We should start your training. Your powers are beginning to surface and we need to strengthen them before your birthday," he states impassively.

"Why is it important to do it before my birthday?"

"The nature of supernatural magic dictates an individual’s powers will be sealed on their thirtieth birthday. Whatever strength your power has become by then will remain unchanged."

"But that's only one month away!" I cry.

"Looks like you better gets started," Martello cuts in.

"Not to worry. I enlisted the help of the best warlock in the Netherworld," Valen replies.

Martello stops whisking his eggs and swings around. "An’ when was you plannin’ on tellin’ us?" he inquires, staring at Valen with a cocked eyebrow.

"When he arrived. He's been detained by business, but he should be here tomorrow night."

Martello exhales in frustration. "We’d appreciate it if you could let us know when you decides to bring more supernatural freaks into our
lives." Looking at me, he adds, "No offense, honey."

"None taken," I chuckle.

Martello turns his back and pours the scrambled egg batter into the hot pan. He's right. Valen should have shared his plans with us, especially me. I attempt to hide the fact I'm bothered.

"Who is he?" I ask.

"His name is Roman. He's over two hundred years old and the most powerful witch I've ever met."

"Wait, I thought you said he was a warlock?"

"A warlock is a male witch," he responds.

"Oh," I say, confused. "Is he trustworthy?"

"Do you think I would allow anyone around you who wasn't?" he asks sternly.

I sink in my chair. I know he's right, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. "I guess not," I reply awkwardly. 

Martello strolls over to the table and deposits his breakfast masterpiece in the center of it. Reaching over, I fill my plate with bacon, scrambled eggs and bacon-greased potatoes. I scoop a big forkful of fluffy eggs and plop them in my mouth, slowly moving onto the red-skinned potatoes, coated in bacon fat, which are indescribably delicious. I lick my lips, ridding them of the oily lip gloss. Martello sits and joins in, dramatically oohing and ahhing. He's not shy when it comes to self-praise. I steal a quick look at Valen, whose plate remains empty. Sipping his coffee, he appears lost in thought.

I swallow the last piece of potato. "So, I was hoping to start training today," I announce.

"We can start reviewing the
Book of Worlds
," Valen responds.

"Actually, I was thinking something more along the lines of defense moves. Like physical training or boot camp," I respond with a small grin.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Valen counters.

I stare at Valen. "Why not? I need to learn how to protect myself without magic. When Micah came yesterday, I couldn’t do anything."

"Girl, don't forget you was in pain," Martello says, pointing his fork at me.

I drop my napkin on my plate. "I understand that, but even if I weren't, I couldn't have done anything."

"Anna, who will train you? I would have to find someone I trust, who is good enough to teach you all the vital skills, which might be a problem on such short notice."

"You can train me." The words blurt out before I have a chance to stop them.

"That's not a good idea," he responds in a low voice.

"Why? You've been around for a long time so it's safe to say you know what you're doing; and for the most part, we all trust you," I counter, trying not to sound desperate. I continue to stare, pleading with him through my eyes. So much for that, he won't even look at me. His detached antics are wearing on my nerves. "Listen, Valen, I don't care what your qualms are about training me. Either you do it, or I'll find someone with or without your approval," I demand forcibly. If he won't listen to reason, maybe he'll respond to threats.

His jaw tightens as he taps his finger on his mug. "Fine," he finally growls before excusing himself from the table. "Meet me outside in twenty minutes," he orders before slamming the kitchen door.

Martello shakes his head. "He's in a bad way," he snickers.

"Why is that funny?" I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Honey, that boy cares about you somethin’ fierce."

"Yeah, I can tell," I respond sarcastically.

"Girl, trust me. I know when a man is interested. You should sees the way he looks at you," he trails off.

I cock my head. "And how's that?"

"Like there's no one else in the room."

My cheeks flush at his observation. My heart instantly forgets the meaning of better judgment. It never fails. When I finally begin to feel like I stashed my feelings and vulnerability safely out of sight, they find a way back to me – unwelcomed, of course. The way I care for Valen is unchartered territory and it scares me. My new life is a whirlwind of crazy discoveries, drama and complications. I can't imagine muddling it further with my emotions and his indecisiveness. I sigh. "Martello, from now on, Valen and I are business only," I say, standing up.

"Mmm-hmm. Whatever you says."

"Business," I retort, pointing my finger while realizing I'm trying to convince myself more than him. I clean up the breakfast dishes and head out back to meet Valen. He's staring into the woods, clearly unhappy about having to interact with me.