Read Witchful Thinking Online

Authors: H.P. Mallory

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Time travel, #Fiction

Witchful Thinking (7 page)

BOOK: Witchful Thinking
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“And we were careful to collect a piece of clothing from everyone so it will be easier for me to bring them back,” I added, hoping it might seem like I’d been involved in the conversation all along.

In order for me to reanimate the dead, I have to touch something that belonged to the deceased—either a piece of clothing or something that was in some way connected to the person. Up until now, I had actually only ever reanimated two people. My first was Bella’s father, Jack, and that had been a mere accident.

When Bella and Rand were on significantly better terms than they are now, she hired Rand to solve the mystery of who killed her father back in Chicago in 1922. So Rand began searching for a witch powerful enough to help him cast a spell that would re-create the scene of Bella’s father’s death. That’s how he found me.

After he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, we flew to Chicago, to what had once been Bella’s father’s home. In conducting the spell, I managed not only to find out who had murdered him—his wife—but to reanimate him.

Later, I found out that Bella, upon finding her father alive again, had promptly killed him … Yeah, that had been my first hint that she was a complete nut job. Once she knew about my secret talent, she became desperate to control and possess my abilities and would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. She had even kidnapped me; if not for Sinjin, who betrayed her and helped me escape, who knows where I’d be now?

The only other person I’d reanimated was Trent, my werewolf ex. And sometimes I doubt that decision. Well, I shouldn’t say that because it isn’t nice, but what I can say is that he turned out to be a player in every sense of the word. Although his antics never broke my heart—which firmly belonged to Rand—I wouldn’t say I was fond of the werewolf … at all.

Are you all right, Jolie?
Rand’s voice penetrated my thoughts.

I glanced up in surprise to find him looking at Odran, clearly in the midst of another conversation. I’ve never understood how he could multi-task so well.

Yeah, I’m fine, why?

It looked as if Varick was upsetting you. Perhaps you’d care to sit beside me?

When he looked over at me, I just shook my head and offered him a sincere smile.
I’m okay. Thanks for looking out for me, though
.

He nodded but didn’t smile. His gaze was piercing, as if he were reading my mind with just the intensity of his stare.

I would prefer to have you beside me
.

I arched a brow, trying to decide if he was flirting with me.
And why is that?

I do not care for vampires, and besides …
His voice trailed off, probably because he was trying to pay attention to whatever Odran was saying.

Besides, what?
I prompted.

I quite like the way you smell
.

I laughed and shook my head as I stood up and walked around the long table, taking the empty seat beside him. I noticed a few people staring at me, probably wondering why I’d suddenly burst out laughing when no one was talking to me, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. If Rand wanted to smell me, who was I to stop him? Rand didn’t take any notice of me when I settled in next to him, continuing his role of chairing the meeting.

“And what do you propose we do with Bella?” he asked.

Bella was currently being restrained in one of the guest rooms at Pelham Manor. Mathilda and Mercedes had cast a spell that kept her imprisoned, and Rand kept two guards stationed outside her door twenty-four/seven. Overkill anyone?

Before I knew it, the feel of Rand’s hand was warm on my thigh. At first he just laid it there, but after a few seconds he began stroking, stopping at my knee and then coming back up.

Ah, so you were really after a cheap thrill?
I thought. Although my tone might have sounded level and in control, my heart was pounding through my ears.

His chuckle pealed through my mind.
I hadn’t intended to touch you but I can’t stop myself
.

Why do I have a feeling this was your plan all along?

Would you prefer I stop?

Hell, no, I didn’t want him to stop.

No
.

Then stop complaining
.

I’m not complaining
.

A wide smile overcame him even though he was looking at Trent, whose conversation had something to do with Bella. When Trent saw Rand’s bizarre expression, he stopped talking and turned to face Odran, confusion etched in his eyes.

Pay attention to the conversation
. I grasped Rand’s hand, which was still massaging my thigh.
You’re scaring everyone around the table
.

I’m having difficulty focusing on anything but your body
.

A shudder vibrated through me at his words, and the errant thought that Mercedes might be overhearing us crossed my mind. But I honestly didn’t even care. Instead my entire body was tuned to Rand’s hand as it began to inch its way back up my thigh. He squeezed me gently and I nearly jumped out of my seat.

“Aye, we shouldna allow ’er ta live,” Odran said, nodding in agreement with Trent’s last comment—which, by the sound of it, had something to do with killing Bella. For all I cared, they could have been talking about aliens abducting Bella. No, my only interest was the current program titled “Jolie Is Finally Getting Some Action.”

“I don’t think we should kill her,” Rand argued. I was surprised he was still paying attention.

“She will never be our ally,” Varick announced.

“But is that any reason to kill her?” Rand countered.

“I don’t think we should kill her either,” I concurred in a voice that sounded breathy and hurried. No one glanced at me, though, so I figured the secret that Rand’s hand was now at the North Pole was still mine to keep.

“This can be resolved at a later date,” Mercedes interrupted. “For now, I believe we should concentrate on rebuilding our army.”

Rand nodded and began drumming the fingers of his other hand against the wood table. I noticed that his hand had relaxed and was no longer massaging or squeezing my leg. He was fully focused on the conversation. Bummer, but it had been fun while it lasted.

“Once the ledger of names is confirmed, we can begin
bringing our dead soldiers back,” Rand said, offering me a smile.

Mercedes nodded and turned to me. “I will assist you.”

Ah, yes, I had momentarily forgotten about the little fact that Mercedes could reanimate the dead—a talent she’d demonstrated when she so artfully brought me back to life. Between the two of us, I hoped the task would be expedited. Even though I hadn’t seen the tally, I had a feeling there were many creatures in need of our … abilities. And it wasn’t like bringing back the dead was easy. It took intense concentration and it sometimes didn’t work on the first, second, or even third attempt. So depending on how many dead there were, Mercedes and I were about to be very busy.

“We must rebuild the legion quickly,” Mercedes continued, as if she’d been reading my mind. “Jolie’s role as Queen will soon require her complete attention.”

I could see Rand’s lips tighten. “As far as I understand it, Jolie hasn’t decided if she wants to be Queen.”

“It is her fate,” Mercedes said simply, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were just as piercingly defiant.

“I believe the prophetess, Rand,” Mathilda said in her bell-like cadence. “The child is gifted, you have known that from the beginning.”

Rand nodded. “Yes, Jolie is gifted, and yes, I trust her entirely, but that’s not to say I believe in fate. No, I believe in the freedom of choice. As Jolie’s protector, I insist she be given the right to choose.”

“If it is ordained,” Odran started, “it cannoot be denied.”

Rand stood up and slapped his palms loudly on the table before him, leaning forward. “This is another subject that won’t be resolved today.” He paused for a moment or two and then added, “I think we’ve discussed enough.”

At Rand’s less-than-subtle indication that the meeting was over, everyone stood and started for the door.

“Jolie, can you stay for a minute?” Rand asked me. As I turned around to face him, he smiled encouragingly, as if to say it would be a pleasant conversation. Hmm, half of me had been hoping I was in trouble—I could use a good old-fashioned spanking over his knees.

I nodded, resuming my place at the table. “Am I in trouble?” I asked with a smile.

He returned it. “It depends. Do you want to be in trouble?”

So he was still flirting with me. That was a good sign. “What’s my punishment?”

He chuckled and shook his head, dropping the charade. Instead he approached me and set both his hands on my shoulders, massaging them with his strong fingers. “I wanted to talk to you about when you traveled back to 1878.”

I nodded and felt my stomach rise up into my throat. I was suddenly suffused with panic. It was at that moment that I decided what Rand didn’t know about us bonding wouldn’t hurt him. We weren’t bonded now and that was all that mattered. It was better not to rehash the past, better not to tell him I was the reason for his brush with death.

“Where should I start?” I asked with trepidation in my voice.

He stopped massaging my shoulders and took the seat next to me, reaching for my left hand. He looked it over, no doubt taking in the fact that I was still wearing his mother’s ring. “You said I gave this ring to you?”

I nodded while fingering the band, then slid it off my finger. I probably shouldn’t be wearing it—not when things were still at an impasse between us, or at the very least undecided. “Do you want it back?”

He wrapped his fingers around mine and pushed the
ring back onto my finger. “No,” he said, curling my fingers back into my palm. “If anyone should wear it, it’s you.” I didn’t even have time to digest that statement before he was off on another. “And if I gave it to you, it belongs to you now.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling heat in my cheeks.

“What was it like traveling to the past and meeting Pelham and me? And Christine?”

Besides Mercedes, Christine had been my only friend.

“It was surreal. At first the only people who were nice to me were Mercedes, Pelham, and Christine.”

“And how about me?”

I regarded him with a frown but couldn’t keep my smile to myself. “You were less than nice.
Rude, argumentative, and surly
might be a better description.”

He chuckled deeply. “But of course, in true Jolie Wilkins fashion, you must have won me over.”

I nodded and sighed as I thought about it. I remembered winning him over, remembered how amazing it had felt when we finally admitted our feelings for each other. And how incredible he had felt inside me.

“Yes, I did finally win you over, but it wasn’t an easy feat,” I said with a laugh that sounded sad even to my ears. “It took a spell from Mathilda for the old you to have the same feelings you have for me today.”

He nodded and glanced down at the table before returning his chocolate-brown eyes to me. “Ah, so I fell in love with you, did I?”

Even though I was surprised by his admission, I just nodded because it was the truth. The old Rand had fallen in love with me and it wasn’t a false love, spurred on by the convenience of Mathilda’s spell—every thought, every feeling Rand bore toward me was genuine, real, based on his feelings for me in the here and now. It was the new Rand that I had to be sure about now. I reached for his face, trailing the soft skin of his temples down to
the roughness of his cheek, where the beginnings of a shadow were starting. “Are you in love with me, Rand?”

“Yes, very much so,” he answered without hesitation. “But my love for you isn’t why I asked you to stay behind. I need to know what happened in 1878, Jolie. Why did I give you my mother’s ring? What were the circumstances?”

“Rand—” I swallowed down a huge lump of nervousness. Something that felt like angst began to well in my gut and before I could even fathom what I was doing, I was already doing it. I stared into Rand’s eyes and felt the words swirling through my head, felt the chant ricochet through me, recognizing the duplicity in my actions but seemingly unable to do anything about it.

I can’t discuss the facts of 1878 with you, Rand. Focus on another topic—ask me about any other subject in the forefront of your mind
.

It hadn’t even occurred to me that maybe Rand, being the powerful warlock he was, would be immune to my magic, and luckily for me it didn’t appear that he was. Instead his eyes took on the same dreamy expression I’d witnessed whenever I used witchcraft to influence someone.

“Do you intend to become Queen?” he interrupted. I felt my entire body deflate with relief, even as guilt started eating me from the feet up. The relief was a mere respite, though, because the subject of whether or not I intended to become Queen was about as welcome as the bonding conversation.

“I don’t want to deter you, Jolie, but I want to ensure this is what you want and that you aren’t just acting as Mercedes’ puppet.”

“I …” I didn’t know what to say.

“Mercedes is very demanding, and I want to make certain someone is looking out for your best interests,” Rand finished.

And that was Rand to a T. He was always looking out for my best interests, making sure I was taken care of—that I was safe.

“I don’t know what I’ll do,” I said finally, looking down at my hands where his mother’s ring sparkled up at me. I almost felt like I should take it off again—offer it back to him. Because the truth of the matter was that I had no right to wear it.

He nodded. “I want you to make the decision for yourself—not because Mercedes is breathing down your neck or because you feel like you owe it to the creatures of the Underworld. On the other hand, don’t deny yourself the title if it’s what you truly want.”

I glanced up at him, pushing all of the worried thoughts from my mind. “And if the throne was what I wanted, would you support me?”

Rand dropped his gaze and chewed his lip. “You know my thoughts on the subject, Jolie. I cannot abide by any form of monarchy.”

“I know,” I was quick to respond.

Rand’s smile was unexpected and secretive. “Have I ever told you why?”

BOOK: Witchful Thinking
3.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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