Something Witchy This Way Comes: A Jolie Wilkins Novel (16 page)

And what did her lunacy mean? Had the Lurkers completely zapped Bella of her intelligence? Was this the way they meant to torture our kind? To drive us to insanity, despondency? And speaking of our kind, how could I, in good conscience, lead the Underworld as their Queen when I was keeping such an extraordinary secret from them? How could I lead my people, when I was nothing more than a charlatan, and maybe worse, their enemy?

You can’t, Jolie
, I answered myself, feeling my
stomach drop at the prospect.
It wouldn’t be right and you know it
.

So what am I supposed to do?

I gulped as I realized the only avenue left to me.
You have to tell someone. You can’t keep this bottled up inside you any longer—especially now that Bella knows the truth. If you don’t tell someone, it will get out—one way or another
.

“My Queen?” Klaasje’s voice broke through the chaos of my thoughts and was accompanied by a timid knock on the door.

I turned from the view—I had been watching the playful breeze dancing sensuously with the heather, tossing it this way and that, filling the air with small purple flowers in the fading moonlight. “Come in,” I said softly, feeling exhausted to my very core.

She smiled in greeting as she opened the door and closed it behind her again. She dropped into her customary curtsy, which seemed over-the-top polite, since she was wearing her long black hair pulled back into a ponytail and was dressed in blue jeans and a red sweatshirt that said
WATCH IT; I BITE
. The deference she displayed suddenly bothered me incredibly because I felt unworthy of it. I was now convinced my heritage could be traced back to the Lurkers. I shook my head. “Please don’t do that,” I said, and rubbed my hand against my temples, willing the headache behind my eyes to abate. As soon as it disappeared, I exhaled with relief and faced my chief guardian.

Klaasje didn’t say anything, she just nodded, smiling slightly, and then approached me. “Rand wanted me to check in on you,” she said at last, and I could
tell by the expression on her face that Rand wasn’t the only one who was worried about me.

“I’m sure I look like crap,” I said with an apologetic and halfhearted smile.

She shook her head. “You just look tired.”

I smiled at her as I exhaled deeply, wishing I could release all my stress into the air with it. “You can tell Rand I’m fine,” I answered. He had spent the evening helping to organize the mass migration of Underworld creatures to Kinloch Kirk. It was the first evening I’d spent solo in over a week, and while I cherished my alone time since it was so scarce, I had to admit that I missed him.

“Are you feeling well?” Klaasje asked, and glanced at my stomach in a worried way.

“The sickness comes and goes,” I replied, as even now I could taste the bitterness of nausea churning in my stomach. I had perfected the art of magicking it away, and it vanished almost before I consciously noticed it.

“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know,” she said. Then, at the prospect of an uncomfortable silence, she turned on her toes, starting for the door again.

“Klaasje,” I said, stopping her. She turned to face me again, her beautiful blue eyes vibrant with curiosity. And I was suddenly so grateful to have her in my life, so appreciative that she and I had become friends. Because truly, I didn’t have a lot of friends. Of course, there was Christa, but aside from her … I didn’t really consider Mercedes my friend. She was just too super human for me to relate to, and Mathilda was like a motherly old woman. Really, the only other
person whom I counted as a friend had been Sinjin …

“Yes?” she asked, and pushed her hands into her jeans pockets, looking more like a college student than a powerful vampire.

I cleared my throat, not sure how to phrase my question, but then decided to come out with it. “Have you … have you heard from Sinjin?”

She immediately colored and dropped her gaze to the floor, which meant she had. “I am not allowed to communicate with him, as you well know,” she said softly. “None of us are.”

Yes, those were the rules when it came to the exile of a member of the Underworld, but I also wasn’t dumb enough to believe that she’d been following them. They were friends, and since they’d both taken on the role of my guardian, they’d become that much closer. I knew it had broken Klaasje’s heart when I was forced to send Sinjin away—almost as much as it broke mine.

“I just … I just want to make sure he’s okay, that he’s safe.” I paused and waited for her response, but she didn’t say anything, just sighed deeply and studied me. “Please, Klaasje, tell me the truth.”

“This isn’t some sort of test?” she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

I shook my head—offended that she would even infer such a thing—but given the fact that I was the Queen, I guess I couldn’t fault her for it. “Of course it isn’t a test. I’m asking you as my friend.”

She seemed to light up when I called her my friend, but stayed silent for a few more seconds as the conflict about whether to tell me played out on her expressive
face. Finally, she smiled. “I haven’t heard from him recently,” she started. “But he did contact me, maybe a week or so ago, and he was doing fine … then.”

Sinjin was safe
. I closed my eyes and felt an incredible sense of relief purging much of the stress from my body. I could breathe a little easier.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about Sinjin if I were you,” Klaasje continued, apparently sensing that her answer had pleased me inordinately. “He’s one of the oldest of our kind, my Queen—”

“Please, call me Jolie,” I interrupted, hating the distance “my Queen” put between us.

She smiled slightly and nodded. “Jolie. Sinjin could pretty much outwit anyone and everyone. There’s a reason he’s been around for so long.” She took a deep breath. “So don’t trouble yourself anymore on his account.”

I smiled and nodded, taking mild satisfaction in her words. “Where is he?” I asked.

“Where is Sinjin Sinclair?” Klaasje responded with a laugh as she shook her head in apparent amusement. “Isn’t that the ultimate question? Last I heard, he was living in the Swiss Alps, but I’m certain he’s moved on since then. Sinjin never struck me as the type of person who wanted to stay in one place.” Then she glanced up at me and cocked a brow. “Unless, of course, you were part of the equation.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, studying her intently.

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Sinjin seemed okay with sticking around when he was your guardian. I never witnessed any of the wanderlust that usually
drives him to roam. He just seemed … content somehow.”

I nodded, not wanting to focus on old memories for fear that they would depress me. Instead, I focused on the fact that Sinjin was safe, and found myself beaming. It was the best news I’d heard all week. “Thank you. I was … really worried about him.” I paused for a few seconds before something else occurred to me. “Please continue to keep in touch with him.”

Klaasje nodded, and I could tell there was something more on her mind, but she seemed hesitant to say anything.

“What?” I asked with a little laugh, encouraging her to continue. “I want us to be friends, Klaasje,” I said finally. “And since we’re friends, whatever you say to me will be held in the strictest confidence.”

She smiled at me in return. “I would like that.” Then she inhaled deeply, and though it seemed like she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the conversation we were having, continued anyway. “I don’t pretend to know what situation existed between you and Sinjin, but obviously, it went awry,” she said. Then she took another deep breath, apparently weighing her next words. “And he would probably kill me for telling you this …” But her voice trailed off as if she were having a tough time getting the words out.

“Yes?” I asked, wanting her—no, needing her—to continue.

“I think you did the impossible where that vampire’s concerned,” she finished. Then she shook her head in what appeared to be wonder. The smile on her lips somehow hinted at her past on the great plains of 1875 Texas, taming not only the men around
her but the raw wilderness of the land. She emanated the bravery and strength of character that only come through hard experience. I felt like dubbing her “Klaasje Oakley.”

But then I focused on what she was saying and scrunched my eyebrows in the middle, completely at a loss. “Did the impossible? What do you mean?”

She nodded, as if realizing she wasn’t making any sense. “I just never thought Sinjin had it in him to fall in love with someone.”

I frowned and shook my head, not believing a word of it, not wanting to believe a word of it. Why? Because it was a complication I didn’t need to add to my life at the moment. “So you’re saying you think he was in love with me?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m convinced of it.”

I laughed in a strange, sad sort of way. “Why would you think that? Sinjin is not capable of love.” Then I eyed her with a frown. “Self-confessed.”

She shook her head, her face a mask of certainty. “That’s what he wants everyone to believe, but I don’t.” She wrapped her arms around her chest and studied me for another few seconds. “And I would chance to say that you don’t either.”

But I ignored her last comment. “Why don’t you believe it?”

“Because he reversed time in order to make you fall in love with him, and that seems pretty desperate to me.”

So it was true, then? Sinjin’s prime motivation had been to manipulate me into loving him rather than just protecting me?
I asked myself.

Well, it’s true as far as Klaasje knows
, came the response.
I mean, helloooo, it’s not like Sinjin is standing here, telling you this
.

Thinking I had a good point, I faced Klaasje again. “Sinjin insisted he did it to protect me from the Lurker threat.”

Klaasje nodded. “Yes, that was true too—of course he took his position as protector to the Queen personally and wanted to ensure your safety—but ensuring your safety and putting the moves on you are two totally different things.”

I laughed at her choice of words but I firmly decided that I was past the point of caring what Sinjin’s reasons were for doing what he’d done. As far as I was concerned, what was done was done and we both were moving on—we
had
both moved on. All that mattered was that Sinjin was safe; and according to Klaasje, he was. End of story. “Well, whatever his reasoning, I’m happy to hear that he’s okay as far as you know.”

She nodded. “Hopefully, he’s keeping a low profile.”

I laughed at that thought, although I wasn’t sure why. We sat companionably for a moment, and then I said, “I always cared for Sinjin, and it depresses me that things ended up the way they did.” I sighed as I thought about it. “I miss his friendship.”

Klaasje nodded. “I think you did him the ultimate favor.”

“How is that?”

She smiled. “You taught him that he’s capable of loving.”

I was sleeping.

I knew it and yet couldn’t wake up. It was almost as if something inside me refused to release me from the dream’s hold.

Opening my eyes, I felt something wet and itchy against my cheek and pushed up on my elbows, noticing grass below me. It was wet with morning dew and I could feel the heat of the sunlight against my back, warming me with its glorious rays. I yawned and sat up, picking off pieces of grass and flowers from my face and body.

I realized I was wearing a dress I’d never seen before—long, white, and gauzy, with an Empire waist. My hair fell around my shoulders in large sausage curls, and when I looked down at my feet, I noticed that they were bare. Feeling immediately anxious, mainly because I had no clue where I was, why I’d been asleep, and why I was dressed like this, I stood up and checked out my surroundings.

I was on the top of a mountain—more like a mountainous ledge. Behind me, I noticed a tree line of giant pines, and beyond that, nothing but darkly verdant forest. I’d been sleeping on top of a steep cliff, hundreds of feet above a canyon, with nothing but sharp, craggy rocks beneath me. I felt a cool breeze massage my legs, and the skirt of my dress sashayed around my naked skin, tickling me with its satiny hem.

I blinked and suddenly found a man standing right in front me. His hair was as white as newly fallen snow and incredibly long. It fell all the way to the ground, looking as soft as rabbit’s fur with a slight wave to it. I tore my attention away from the man’s hair and took in his face, which was hard to concentrate
on, given his incredibly full and long beard. It was of the same hue and texture as his hair, though it wasn’t quite as long—it only reached his knees. He wasn’t a tall man, but neither was he short. He was old, though—I could tell as much from the deeply set wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, not to mention the way he limped when he walked—like he had bad knees.

“We meet again,” the old man said.

And I recognized his voice as the one that had belonged to the sea in my last dream, in which he’d announced that I was one of his kind, that I was a Lurker.

“I refuse to believe that I’m one of you,” I said in a loud voice, the sound echoing through the canyon below me until it seemed like the mountains were screaming at me. “I’m not a Lurker.”