I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series) (33 page)

I linger, shocked by Roman’s appearance. He’s striking, to say the least. His muscularly lean body stands six feet tall, and his elegant demeanor is outlined with a rough edge. His hair is silver, reflecting the light that graces it. His eyes are deep cobalt, holding centuries of knowledge. They sit atop strong, angular cheekbones that accentuate his perfect nose. His jaw, though not pronounced, enhances his god-like looks in a more feminine way. If I didn’t know better, I would guess he’s in his thirties. Roman steps into my foyer with an energy I’ve never perceived before. The hairs all over my body stand straight up like they were rubbed by a giant balloon. Every fiber in me recognizes him as an acquaintance. I descend the remainder of the staircase in awe-struck wonder. Upon reaching the last stair, Roman glides passed Valen towards me. He clutches my hand in his sturdy fingers and kisses the back of it. Tiny electrical pulses stream through my arm, forcing my hand to tense, while tightening around his.

"This must be the beautiful Anna," he states.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I respond, staring into his swirly blue eyes. I retract my hand, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

Valen clears his throat. "Now that the introductions are done, let's get down to business," he interrupts, staring at us unhappily.

"My, my, Valen. I can see what all the fuss is about," Roman replies gingerly. Valen narrows his eyes in response. "Right, then," Roman adds, sensing he just overstepped an invisible boundary.

Valen strides past us, inviting us to follow him into the kitchen. We trail behind like reprimanded toddlers. Martello has four clear glasses sitting on the island with ice cubes and mixers. He's such the bartender. I smile at him, watching his eyes enlarge as they land on Roman.

"Martello, I would like to introduce you to Roman," Valen says.

Martello clears his throat. "It's a pleasure," he says, extending his hand.

Roman accepts, and seeing the expression on Martello's face, I'm sure he felt the electricity too. "What a lovely home," Roman says, facing me.

"Th-thank you," I stammer in nervousness.
Damn it, Anna,
get a hold of yourself
.

"Where should we begin?" Roman asks.

"Right now, we are training out back," Valen answers with his hand on the doorknob. We follow him outside, stopping in the field before the woods. Valen and Roman exchange a few words before he excuses himself. A small part of me is filled with disappointment. I shrug it off, and focus on Roman instead, who is already busy explaining my powers.

“Anna, you must view your powers as an extension of yourself,” he begins. “They're not beings or parts… they are you. They understand you, and feel you."

“I guess that explains my freaky cramps,” I reply with a half-smile.

“Yes, your cramping is a strong indication of your powers. Most witches have one or two little ones throughout the courses of their lives. You seem to be more powerful than anyone ever thought,” he says, contemplating his words.

“That’s what I keep hearing.”

“Open your hand,” he demands, extending his.

I oblige, placing my hand in his. Immediately, a sharp current shoots through me. I gasp, but Roman just smiles. “I want to feel your magic and sense the depth of your prowess.”

He squeezes tighter, causing the electrical impulse to strengthen, until it becomes borderline painful. He drops my hand and sighs. “Well, Anna, you certainly are rather powerful,” he responds, concerned.

I furrow my eyebrows. “That’s a good thing, right?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yes and no. You see, your powers will swiftly develop during training since they’re so dominant. Unfortunately, you possess the powers of a Grand Witch,” he responds.

“A Grand Witch?” Sounds like a lot of responsibility.

“Yes, a Grand Witch. Meaning you are all-encompassing.”

I cock my head sideways like a confused dog.

He shakes his head. “Anna, you're capable of amazing things. A Grand Witch can perform any spell, create strong magic, kill werewolves, and the list goes on. Best of all, there is no limit to your powers. Most witches are confined to one field of expertise, so to speak,” he pauses. “A spell here, a thought-manipulation there… but you… you’re capable of anything!” he adds with a smile. “You can see how your rare qualities make you a very desirable commodity,” he adds gravely.

My legs turn to jelly. Me… Miss Plain Jane… How am I one of the most unique witches in the world? The thought is too farfetched. How can I possibly possess such powers? I can barely avoid walking into walls. “How... how can I be? I don’t understand? My parents and grandparents aren’t witches?”

Roman places his hands on my shoulders and a gentle stream of electricity pulses through me. “This magic skipped many generations in your family, Anna. These powers date back over one hundred centuries ago,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts. “You see, magic is host-specific. It chooses who will carry it, and can because of your strong bloodline. After all, you are a direct descendant of the Great Scholars,” he finishes.

My brain is swimming in a sea of ambiguity. This is so bizarre. “Who?” I ask, glancing at the grass under my feet. Roman releases my shoulders, taking a small step backwards.

“The Great Scholars. They are the noblest and oldest beings functioning under The Highers. They play a very important role in the Treaty, which I’m sure Valen told you about. They are the ancient guardians of a very important book.”

Sounds to me like another parochial school lesson. “What do they have to do with all of this… and the supposed looming war?” I inquire.

“We're not certain, but we have reason to believe Micah and his followers are carrying out Lucifer’s orders to seize the
Book of Imperium
, also known as the
Book of Scholars,
it is one of the most powerful instruments in the supernatural world. The Scholars keep it concealed in an unknown location, protecting it and themselves with numerous magic spells.”

My brain throbs to protest the information overload. “What does Imperium mean? And what’s in it that makes it so important?”

“Imperium is Latin for absolute power. Whoever possesses the book will have power over every being in the supernatural world, good and bad. They're recipes for powerful spells, long lost secrets, and guides for destruction. Lucifer has been looking for it for centuries, and was unable to figure out where it was hidden until now.”

My attention catches his last sentence. “What do you mean until now?”

“You're the reason he seeks the book. He believes you are a Grand Witch. So, in a matter of time, he'll know you're capable of visual clairvoyance. That alone will motivate him to kidnap you, regardless of the Treaty's rules,” Roman says, looking discouraged.

“Visual clairvoyance?”

He sighs with frustration. “The dreams you’ve had of Janie, not to mention my favorite… the one where you blasted Micah… is called vision magic. Your visual clairvoyance allows you to do that."

How does he know about it?

He grins. “Valen brought me up to speed.”

“I thought I was dreaming,” I reply anxiously. It wasn't a typical dream, but I also didn't think it occurred in real time.

“In a sense, it was. Normally, visual clairvoyance only allows you to see through another supernatural's eyes, to see and feel their perceptions,” he pauses. "In your vision, you were in the room
with
the others, but not
in
a person or demon, shall we say... and that's rarely, if ever, heard of."

In life, there are moments when the random collection of assorted puzzle pieces snap together flawlessly. The
aha
moment… after clearing the muddled thoughts of debris, when confusion is shoved away, and then, Poof! The fog clears and the fat truth is standing there, hands on its hips, with an
I-told-you-so
glare. This is one of those times. Micah's threats were intended to prod me to use my powers so he could test my capabilities. Now, thanks to my carelessness, he has all the information he needs. I handed him everything on a silver platter. How could I be so naïve? “Let me make sure I grasp this. Since I can ‘see’ through a person’s eyes,” I say, placing the word
see
in air quotes, “Micah thinks I can find out where this book is?”

“That's exactly what we believe,” Roman responds solemnly.

By
we
I assume he's referring to Valen. Funny, Valen forgot to mention any of this to me. Why am I left in the dark when I’m the one everyone's after? I store this nugget of information in the back of my mind to ponder at a later time. “Why now? I mean, they must have known I was a Grand Witch or whatever for years,” I inquire.

“Yes, we all heard about you, but the truth is, no one believed it. Micah took it upon himself to investigate these rumors, purely out of curiosity. He watched you for months, assessing your powers. He's quite strong, Anna. He felt you… he felt your magic,” Roman says, his dark blue eyes mirroring the night sky.

Damn Micah. Everything seems to come back to him. “I thought he was only a warlock like you?”

Roman laughs arrogantly. “Only a warlock, Anna? He's the Prince of Darkness. He may not be the ruler, but he’s anxious to change that. He is self-serving and shields his intentions. Lucifer trusts him and keeps a blind eye wherever he is concerned.”

“This is ridiculous,” I reply, exasperated.

“I agree, my dear,” Roman responds. “But regardless, we must do what is necessary to keep you and the book safe. That’s why Valen asked for my help.”

Valen must really trust him. “You and Valen must be close friends.”

“The term friend is excessively cozy. We respect one another and he helped me out of a bind years ago, so I owe him. Luckily, I don’t mind helping him in this case. Protecting a beautiful woman is my specialty,” he adds in a seductive voice.

I tear my gaze from him. My cheeks grow hot from his compliment. My attraction to Roman is anything but primal. Maybe it’s because we are both magical, if that makes sense. Of course, his extremely good looks help. “I… thanks,” I mutter. 

Roman walks towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders, sending a gentle current of magic through my skin. “Anna, we have a lot to do.”

I nod in agreement. “Roman, what’s that electrical thing you do whenever you touch me?”

He smiles widely, exposing his flawless, snowy-white teeth. “Since our bodies represent magic, you and I have a natural attraction. Our magic recognizes one another.”

“Does that happen with all witches?”

“Sometimes, but not every witch is attracted to another,” he says, winking.

He turns his back to me, walking closer to the tree line. The muscles in his expansive shoulders dip and curve, chasing the moonlight. I quickly banish the thought of what his body might look like underneath his shirt.

“So, what should we start with?”

Roman swings around. A red, glowing ball floats inches off his palm. I study it, trying to figure out exactly what I'm looking at.

“Stop this from hitting you,” is all he says before chucking it at me.

I have no idea what to do, so I duck. It scrapes the top of my shoulder, and burns my skin. “Ouch!” I yell, glaring at him.

He snickers as another ball materializes in his palm, this time a deep blue color, like his eyes. I don’t know what to do. I raise my arms and point my palms at him, hoping the bright, white light will materialize. Nothing happens. He throws the ball and it hits me squarely in the stomach, tossing me backwards. I hit the ground like a boulder, squirming in excruciating pain. I ignore the intense pain, but can only roll onto my knees. Instinctively, my hands steady my weight as they press into the moist ground and support me on all fours. My stomach reflexively heaves from getting the wind knocked out of it. Roman's arm is draped over the top of my shoulders in a split second.