The Witch's Dream - A Love Letter to Paranormal Romance (Black Swan 2) (24 page)

"I told you it's..."

She interrupted and finished the sentence. "...none of my business. I know what you said. Consider it my last request if you need to."

"You know that putting it like that is cheating."

She rolled her shoulder in a way that accentuated her femininity. "Didn't you say witches have no honor?"

Okay. So she was charming. He had to give her that.

He sighed as he surrendered. "Short version only."

"Fine."

He opened his mouth and then stopped, looked around, raked a hand through his hair and finally said: "Wow. I guess this is even harder than I thought." He glanced at Litha who waited patiently, still as a statue looking elegant and at home seated at the best table in the joint.

"Kay, Ram, and I had just lost our teammate. We were in debriefing when Elora materialized in the air and landed at our feet. She was so injured we didn't even know what she was; looked more like ground meat than anything. Sol didn't want us to touch it. Ram said we should kill it. But I saw this thing reach out to me and I..."

Storm's voice broke a little. She felt a pinch of empathy and was starting to be sorry she'd pushed this, but he composed himself quickly and went on.

"I decided to try to save whatever it was regardless of consequences." He looked up at Litha." I had to disobey a direct order to do it. Kay had to help lift. Later on we found out she weighs as much as I do." Litha's eyes widened. "Yeah. She was designed for another dimension. The trip to this one tore her up so badly... well, nobody really thought she could survive it, and she was in recovery for months.

"Kay and Ram went home on three months' grief leave. I stayed because I guess I felt responsible for the thing that turned out to be Elora. I spent every day with her, visiting, letting her know somebody was on her side, watching her turn into a person, a..." His gaze darted to Litha. "... person.

"As you know, she turned out to be a miracle: strong, fast, brave. She fought her way into B Team and took the place Lan left vacant as Ram's partner. Even though I tried to stop it and kicked up a fuss, I agreed she deserved to be there.

"To wind it up, I asked her to marry me. She chose Ram. We just came from their handfasting a few days ago. And..." He blew out a breath and gave her a rueful smile, "...they're expecting."

Litha didn't have to be a genius to figure out that there were a lot more painful details to be read between the lines. She searched her heart for something to say, but nothing felt right so she said nothing.

Finally, he said, "Now I have a question for you."

She looked into his eyes. "Alright. I guess anything you want to ask is fair."

He smirked. "So now we're talking fair?"

"Ladies' choice."

That earned her a genuine laugh and lines smoothed away from his forehead. "Funny, Litha."

She thought it might be the first time she'd heard him say her name and she loved the way it rumbled over his baritone.

He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a photo that was faded and ragged around the edges and set it down on the table face up. It was a picture of the villa she had recreated a hundred times from memory. He watched her carefully.

She frowned trying to figure out what this meant. "That's my vineyard. Well, I mean... you know what I mean."

"I do. Because that's the same thing I would have said."

Litha jerked her gaze up to Storm trying to grasp his meaning. She shook her head, still frowning. "I don't..."

"I took this picture the year
I
was sixteen.
I
found this place when
I
was out driving all by myself. I borrowed my older brother's Polaroid and went back to take this photo the next chance I got. I've been putting back money to buy this place ever since then - planning to walk up to the front door someday and ask the owner what they'll take for it."

Litha stared at him for a few beats. "That's a pretty big coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidence."

"Synchronicity?"

He shook his head.

"Serendipity?"

He stared quietly.

All of a sudden she smiled as brightly as if someone had switched on a high beam spot. "How about destiny?"

Storm looked incredulous. "You aren't serious."

Litha nodded looking very self-satisfied. "Well, it looks like you've got a decision to make. You can either get into a bidding war with me or we can pool our resources and live there together. You and me. There." She looked down and pointed to the photo on the table. "In our villa."

"
Our
villa?" Storm was still gaping. "What part of 'not interested in a relationship' don't you understand?"

She looked at him completely seriously and said, "The part with the 'not' in it." Then she smiled like she'd just won the lottery and he felt the rest of the ice that had formed around his heart fracture.

Was that what he wanted? A woman who was relentless? He didn't know the answer to that, but maybe, just maybe, he should stop putting all his energy into being an asshole and find out. She wasn't undecided about what she wanted. She had no doubt that it was... him. And who wouldn't be flattered to be somebody's end game? Especially when that somebody was the enchantress sitting on the other side of the dinner table.

"When was the last time you took 'no' for an answer, Litha?" he asked quietly.

"I do. Often. It's just that nothing else has ever been this... big."

As Storm sat drowning in the hope he saw in the depths of those deep green eyes, he realized he hadn't fought for Elora. It never even crossed his mind.

The return trip to the apartment was faster because it was too cold to stroll. Litha closed the bedroom window and searched for more blankets. She went to sleep happy, thinking about the bizarre turn of events. How unexpected it was to discover that she and Storm had settled on the exact same dream, in the exact same way, at the exact same time in their lives - that they had grown up so close to each other without their paths ever crossing. Until now.

Then there was also the fact that she seemed to be wearing him down. Elora Laiken had broken his heart, but maybe not so badly that she couldn't put it back together.

What she needed to do now though was put aside girlish day dreams and concentrate on getting Kay's future back. Nothing would make Storm happier.

The next morning she found him in the kitchen with food. While she'd been sleeping he'd rounded up juice, fruit, and bread that he had toasted. It was still early, but the noise was starting to pick up outside as crowds were overrunning the city.

Storm could see that Litha had her game face on. She was ready and it showed in her tension and her serious expression. She had her bag with her.

"You're taking the bag?"

"It has things I might need. I won't know until I get there." She looked down at it and back up. "Also, once I find the place, I want you to get away from me. Magick can be... unpredictable. I'll feel better if I know you're not too close." He just looked at her without committing one way or the other. "Say yes."

"Yes."

"Are you telling the truth?" His eyes flared with that twinkle she was starting to understand translated to amusement. "You
are
lying."

"I'm not lying. Exactly. But you do know that when I was assigned to escort you, they didn't mean come along and be your travel guide unless it gets a little dicey and then save myself. They meant be your protector. You've got your job. I've got mine."

"That's all well and good except there's a mitigating factor."

"Okay," he said cautiously. "Speak."

"Your take on doing your job may compromise my job if part of my focus is distracted because of my feelings for you."

He seemed to consider that while he blinked at her. "Let's just see how it goes. I don't want to compromise your concentration."

Truthfully, he was torn between telling her to do all possible to get Trina back for Kay, and pulling her back from the mission. Even having that thought was so not Storm.

She nibbled at a corner of the toast he insisted she eat then Storm picked up her bag and followed her downstairs.

"Do we need a taxi?"

"Don't know yet." She took her necklace off over her head, pulled the housing free, and held the pendulum out from her body far enough to read the direction it pulled. She began to follow. It was harder than usual with so many people in the streets and so many bodies passing close by. Storm was trying to run interference and keep people away from her.

The good news was that the further they got away from the square, the less crowded it was. They found themselves back at the cathedral near where they'd had dinner. The pendulum pulled down a narrow side street that was completely shaded from the morning sun. A cheer rose from the square, but it didn't faze Litha. Years of practice had perfected her concentration so that not even Palio races would keep her from a goal.

She stopped half way down the block. The pendulum thunked against the solid wall of a thirteenth century palazzo. Litha looked up and around. Overhead a gargoyle stretched out from the cathedral roof as if it was guarding the spot. Or pointing to it.

She put the housing back on her pendulum.

"Well," she said, shrugging, "this is it."

Storm raked his gaze up and down the stone wall, up and down the alley, and looked dubious. "Litha, there's nothing here."

She pulled on her earlobe and shook her head. "I know that's what it looks like. But that's why they pay me the big bucks, right?"

"You get big bucks?"

"No, gorgeous. I was totally joking."

He glanced around again, feeling inexplicably nervous. "Let's go. There's nothing here."

"Seriously, Storm. Here's what I need you to do. Go wait at the corner." He looked toward the end of the alley like he was considering it. "Wait! Kiss me first."

He turned back to Litha, his eyes going to her mouth and resting there for a beat before looking into her eyes. "Did you just call me gorgeous?"

Her lips parted. He hated to encourage her, but he'd seen a lot of strange shit in the years since he'd been an active Black Swan knight. There was always a chance something might happen, and if he refused, he knew he would regret it. After all, it was just a meaningless kiss.

Putting his hands on either side of her waist, he gathered the material of her dress into his fists. He pressed her back into the wall with his body, intending to give her the kiss he'd been subconsciously obsessing about ever since the night she walked into his dream in her pretty, white nightgown and palmed his cock like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Here. Let me do that
.

As he pressed her back, he felt a momentary heat when their bodies came together. Then she was gone. Instead of holding handfuls of luscious, tempting witch, his knuckles were shoved against solid stone.

It took a few seconds for his mind to catch up with events. Then he yelled her name. "Litha!"

He pressed his hands over every square inch of the wall. Then he did it again. Over and over again. There was nothing there but cold stone.

He couldn't afford to be disheartened. Maybe she needed him. Maybe there was some hidden key. He told himself he had to keep trying because it was his job as her escort. She was his responsibility and he would feel just as panic-stricken no matter who he'd been charged to protect. He started over and did it again and again. And again. Finally, he rested his back against the wall and sank down to the ground. He sat there without moving for the rest of the day until after dark.

He saw the crowds disburse and grow thin. And still he sat there not really knowing what to do, not wanting to leave, but having nothing to act upon.
Nothing to be done. That's a new one.

He was sure that if Litha came back she could find her way to the apartment. It wasn't far. He got to his feet slowly, picked up her bag, and trudged away feeling very tired and very alone. He stopped at the end of the alley and stood there for some time, giving her one last chance to get her curvy ass out of that wall and explain herself.

When he closed the apartment door, he dropped the bag, sat on the couch, and called Simon with a report saying he would not be leaving until Litha returned. Simon agreed to leave it like that for the time being and hung up.

Storm sat there for a while staring straight ahead, still stunned even after all the hours that had passed. He'd been over it in his mind a hundred times. Then his eyes fell on the leather bag where he'd dropped it on the floor. He pulled it toward him and unzipped it.

There were a few clothes on top that he moved aside. Then he came to a thin, delicate and very feminine, white, cotton nightgown with lace edging and little pearl buttons. He pulled it out and, without thinking or assessing motive, gathered it in both hands and buried his face in it so he could drag in her scent. Rain.

After a while he lowered the gown, but didn't set it aside. He left it curled in his lap while he went through the tools in the bottom of the bag: a tone chime, an athame, some herbs, various crystals, and a notebook that looked like a journal. He pulled out the notebook and opened it. It seemed to be a diary of sorts; a record that was a combination of personal thoughts or experiences and documentation of magickal undertakings.