Toil And Trouble, A Paranormal Romance (Jolie Wilkins) Page 6

  “I can move again,” I announced.

  Rand nodded and didn’t seem overly excited by the admission. “It’s Sinjin’s saliva. It must not only have healed the wolf’s bite but the rest of you as well.”

  “It’s that strong?” I asked, wondering why I hadn’t just swallowed a tankard full of that instead of the fairy potion. Okay, gross, I know, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  “Yes.”

  I suddenly remembered the wolf and glanced toward the dead human heaped in the corner. “Do you know who he is?”

  Rand shook his head. “No, but I do know he’s one of Bella’s.”

  “He was?” I almost choked. “But how did he get through the fairy nets and all your soldiers?”

  “Inside job,” Rand said with a sigh. “This is her way of saying she’s agreed to our war.”

  FOUR

  So while it wasn’t exactly a great situation—having the werewolf attack me and all, I actually felt better than I had for the past week, courtesy of Sinjin’s … spit. Even though the attack was only a few hours old, I had now regained full use of my entire body. Although, I wasn’t one hundred percent back to normal because I still felt incredibly tired. It had taken a lot of magic to heal the bite the wolf had taken out of my shoulder and whenever I use magic, it exhausts me.

  Exhausted or not, I was still livid over Rand insisting I wasn’t allowed to fight in the war, especially when I was the reason for the whole stupid thing. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want me to fight because I was female. At least a third of his recruits were women! But I still had a few tricks up my sleeve where the war was concerned and what Rand didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him.

  But planning my strategy would have to wait. What currently occupied my mind was the fact that I’d nearly been turned into a wolf. And even though I’d dated a were and hadn’t held his canine antics against him, that didn’t mean I was ready to join him. What terrified me even more than the prospect of becoming furry was the realization that the war was no longer far off or abstract—it was now a definite.

  Word of the attack had quickly spread throughout the legion, invigorating everyone with a renewed determination to prevail. Since the werewolf that attacked me had been one of ours, Rand had ordered every soldier to take a blood oath that involved an incantation whereby if anyone attempted to deceive us again, their blood would boil and they’d be cooked from the inside out.

  Swearing in all the creatures had taken the entire day and was well into the night. Some of us were spared the duty because the fairies and Rand’s coven had taken over the responsibility.

  “Our legion will meet at the Clava Cairns,” Rand announced to the group gathered around his dining table. The group consisted of Odran, Nigel, Sinjin, John, Trent, and Mathis, Rand’s second witch in command. Christa was usually present during all of our meetings but tonight she was dozing on the couch.

  Mathis wasn’t bad looking but he wasn’t really my type. There was just something about him that droned … bland. He was from Michigan and had mousey brown hair and dark brown eyes with an overall nondescript appearance. But in the sphere of witchcraft, he was pretty darn talented; otherwise, Rand wouldn’t have selected him as second in command.

  “What’s the Clava Cairns?” I asked and leaned into the dark brown leather chair, admiring both Sinjin’s and Rand’s faces in the yellowish glow of the chandelier lights. Rand’s dining room was like something out of a castle. The walls were stone but covered with floor-length tapestries he’d collected from around the world. The mahogany table was large enough to easily accommodate our group and the orange glow of a fire burning in the hearth gave the feel of a true English manor home. It was just missing an Irish wolfhound or failing that, Lizzie Bennett.

  “Clava Cairns is an ancient Scootish burial ground, lass,” Odran said.

  “They are a series of stone circles,” Rand added. “We will assemble at the Cairn surrounded by the eleven standing stones. Once there, we’ll march to Culloden to meet Bella’s forces.”

  Clava Cairns was just down the road from Culloden Battlefield. Why Rand didn’t just meet Bella and her army at the battlefield was beyond me. But I wasn’t well versed in the art of war or in waging it, apparently.

  “And when are you going to send the declaration?” Trent asked, an angry red cold sore bubbling his upper lip. I tried not to focus on it, not wanting to be rude but it was next to impossible. It was the biggest cold sore I’d ever seen. In fact, it looked as if his lip was in the process of spawning another human.

  “I await Bella’s declaration and will respond accordingly,” Rand answered.

  “What’s the declaration?” I asked.

  “It’s a letter regarding our proposal of terms should we defeat her,” Rand said. “It’s a way of informing Bella what’s in store for her if she loses.”

  “Poppet, it is another attempt to allow Bella to politely step down from waging war against us,” Sinjin finished.

  I smiled at him, feeling a warmth toward him I never had before. I was sure it had everything to do with the fact that he’d basically saved my life. But what I couldn’t decide was whether it was a feeling naturally born out of gratitude or a left over reaction to Sinjin’s saliva.

  “Then she will send a declaration letter to us also?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Rand answered.

  “Do you think Bella will fight according to the rules?” I continued.

  Mathis nodded. “The wolf attack was a sign of her agreement to our invitation since it came within the allotted time period.”

  “Yeah, never mind the fact that she almost killed me!” I countered.

  Rand was about to respond but was interrupted by the entrance of someone I didn’t recognize. He stood in the doorway and hesitated momentarily before striding in. A breeze suddenly blazed through the otherwise still room and the feeling of energy poured over my skin. I could only imagine it was in response to the stranger. He must have been powerful. He was nearly as tall as Odran and thin with a definite elegance about him. His hair was as orange as a sunset and his flawless skin whiter than seemed possible—almost translucent in its paleness. He wasn’t necessarily attractive or unattractive. Like the ancient fairies, his sense of presence was such that it didn’t occur to me to categorize him. He had no aura which could only mean one thing … vampire.

  “Varick,” Rand nodded.

  Sinjin had already stood and solemnly bowed to his boss. He offered a seat to Varick who dismissed it with a wave of his hand. Sinjin remained standing. Subservient was not a role I’d ever seen Sinjin play and it didn’t suit him.

  “Rand, it has been far too long,” Varick said in a voice the dialect of which didn’t pay homage to any country. He made no motion to approach Rand which seemed to suit the warlock just fine.

  “Thank you for joining us,” Rand said stiffly.

  “Yes, I apologize for my tardiness. I had to meet with two of my … informants regarding Bella.”

  And here I thought he was just fashionably late.

  “And I’ve brought one of the informants back with me,” Varick added.

  “Pardon?” Rand surged to his feet, his anger palpable. The entire room was as eerily quiet as a murder scene.

  Sinjin’s eyes glowed red. “Who?”

  “Grimsley,” Varick said with a smile and turned back to the doorway.

  I had already met the warlock Grimsley Jones at a recruiting party Rand had thrown to gain support for our side. At the time Grimsley had allied himself with Ryder and Ryder’s ingénue, the half witch-half vampire, Gwynn. The fact that Grimsley turned out to be an informant was a surprise to all, as we’d assumed he was allied with the opposition.

  “Grimsley?” Rand repeated. “Where the bloody hell is he?”

  Varick merely chuckled and lifted his skeletal hand, beckoning toward the door with two pointed fingers. Grimsley appeared in the doorway and took a few steps forward, smiling insipidly. His attention then
returned to Rand and he bowed his head, probably realizing he had to give us a damned good reason as to why he was standing in Rand’s entryway.

  Disgust crawled over me. I didn’t trust him one bit.

  “When I learned of Bella’s intent to sick the wolf on your witch, I came as quickly as I could to alert you,” Grimsley said and then inhaled deeply. “I hope I am not too late.”

  Not too late? He was way too late. If not for Sinjin, I’d be outside howling at the moon by now.

  “You came very close to being too late,” Sinjin snapped.

  Grimsley glanced at me and smiled apologetically. “Jolie, are you alright?”

  “Yeah, no thanks to you,” I said, returning my attention to Varick who was busy inspecting his fingernails in a great show of indifference.

  “Again, I apologize for not being more prompt,” Grimsley said and offered Rand his weathered, old hand. “Rand, it is good to see you again.”

  Rand accepted his hand and bared a hesitant smile. Was he really falling for this crap?

  “I’m pleased to have you on our side, Grimsley.” Hmm, guess so.

  “I wanted to alert you that I was on your side earlier, but couldn’t risk it. I had to maintain the illusion that I was with Bella.”

  “But your coven …” Mathis started.

  “My coven remains within Bella’s ranks,” Grimsley replied. “They have orders to stay there until the battle begins, then they will turn on her.”

  Jolie. It was Rand’s voice in my head. I don’t trust him. Can you do a Liar’s Circle?

  Thank God I wasn’t the only dubious one. The Liar’s Circle was a spell Rand had taught me—a quick charm that allowed the charmer to test whether or not someone had honest intentions. Sort of like a lie detector test.

  Yes.

  I watched as Rand continued to chat with Grimsley, eager to keep the old man’s attention away from the fact that we were charming him.

  I glanced down at my shoes and pretending to retie my shoelaces, closed my eyes, imagining a circle of bright white light surrounding Grimsley. I repeated the words in my head several times: Grimsley Jones, are you sincere? Then I awaited the answer. A bluish light began to usurp the white glow of my circle and that could only mean one thing.

  He’s telling the truth.

  So I’d have to eat humble pie. I double knotted my shoelaces and sat up in time to see Rand smiling at me before he returned his attention to Grimsley.

  “How many witches are still with Bella?” Rand asked.

  “Thirty,” Grimsley responded.

  Rand nodded. “I am very pleased to hear that. We need all the help we can get.”

  “Boot ye ‘ave anoother informant still within Bella’s ranks?” Odran asked Varick. “Oother than the witches?”

  Varick didn’t even bother looking up from his nails. “Yes.”

  “This is good news,” Rand said with a grin.

  “We witches are few and far between so we must stick together,” Grimsley said.

  Nothing was closer to the truth. While there was a plethora of werewolves and vampires, the procreation of both not necessitating pregnancy, the same couldn’t be said for witches. Our breed was slowly dying because females had a difficult time carrying to term. It was a subject I tried never to dwell on—I really had hoped for the large family with a white picket fence.

  “Bella and her army are preparing in Arizona, as you know,” Varick continued. “She received your war summons and should have already sent her response?”

  “You could say that,” I grumbled.

  Grimsley nodded. “That would be the werewolf visit, I suppose?”

  “Yes,” Rand said as I frowned.

  Sinjin looped a tendril of my hair between his thumb and forefinger, massaging the tress as if it were silk. “Without the wolf, we never would have had our moment,” he whispered.

  Varick suddenly brought his attention to Sinjin and his lips twitched slightly. “Is there something I should know regarding you both?”

  If Rand had laser vision, he could have burned a hole through Sinjin’s hand—the one now casually resting on the small of my back.

  “There is nothing between them,” Rand said furtively.

  Varick nodded but his attention remained focused on Sinjin—it was almost as if the situation amused him, that of a warlock who couldn’t possibly get any more uptight and a vampire that seemed to thrive on his ability to make the warlock uptight. I couldn’t say it didn’t amuse me too.

  “Her army outnumbers ours,” Varick continued, glancing back at his dagger shaped fingernails.

  “I predicted it would,” Rand said.

  “But I believe we can still be victorious,” Varick continued before addressing Odran. “Without the fairies, we would not stand a chance.”

  “Aye,” Odran nodded.

  “But they have demons,” Trent remarked.

  Varick studied Trent with narrowed eyes for a second or two and then exhaled deeply, as if he smelled something offensive and wanted only to extricate the foul air. He ignored Trent and returned to Rand. “Yes, she does have the support of the demons, but they are not as powerful as the fairies.”

  “They are noot,” Odran agreed. “We can destroy any demon.”

  Rand nodded but said nothing to Odran, and turned his attention back to Grimsley. “What are your plans, Grimsley?” he asked, offering Grimsley a seat. The old man lowered himself so awkwardly, I worried he’d collapse before touching down. Witches could postpone their aging—slowing it to a mere crawl. So for Grimsley to appear as old as he did, he had to have been around for centuries.

  As soon as Grimsley took his seat, Trent, Odran, and Varick also sat down. Rand and Sinjin remained standing. I occupied the only armchair in the corner of the room, offering the best vantage point.

  “I must return to Bella to avoid suspicion,” Grimsley said. “But I plan to return in just a few days.”

  “Isn’t it a little too late for that?” Trent asked. “Doesn’t she already suspect you’re in cahoots with us?”

  Grimsley shook his head and sighed, glancing down at the table. He took a deep breath and studied the men around him. “No, Bella believes I am en route, with more werewolves.”

  “And when you show up empty handed?” John asked.

  “I had hoped not to show up empty handed,” Grimsley countered.

  “I would be happy to lend you some of my wolves,” Trent said. “I would go myself, but I narrowly escaped Bella’s clutches a few months ago so she’d probably sense something was up.”

  Grimsley nodded. “Very well. Thank you for your generous offer.”

  “How many do you need?” Trent continued.

  “Twenty would suffice,” Grimsley answered. I had to subdue my worry about offering up our men to Grimsley. My distrust was silly. The Liar’s Circle was never wrong.

  Trent asked Rand, “Can you cast some sort of truth spell on him? I want to make sure he isn’t playing us.”

  Rand nodded. “He raises a good point, Grimsley. I hope you understand?”

  “Yes, of course. I think it perfectly acceptable and will succumb to whatever spells or incantations you need to convince yourselves I am on your side.”

  Unbeknownst to him, he already had.

  ~

  Later that night, I had insomnia. It seemed my schedule was adapting to that of everyone else—sleep by day and battle by night. I tossed from side to side and saw the green light of the alarm clock glaring at me. Not exactly comforting.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes, wishing I could vacate thoughts of the impending war and what it would mean to my future, to all of our futures. I gasped as the shape of a man met my eyes. He was dimly glowing like a weak light bulb and I could see right through him. It took me a second or two to recognize the resident ghost of Pelham Manor. He was a ghost I knew well and an old friend—the original master of Pelham Manor, William Pelham.

  Pelham! I could only communicate with him through though
ts. You scared the crap out of me!

  He grinned boyishly. I’d missed his ethereally handsome face. Pelham had died of cholera at age thirty-one but in his ghostly shape, he’d retained his vibrant light brown hair and rich brown eyes.

  I am pleased to see you are unscathed.

  It took me a minute to realize he was referring to the wolf-mauling. You were there?

  Yes, I am the one who alerted the vampire. I knew there was nothing I could do to save you. I was looking for Rand but came across the vampire first.

  Thank you, I thought and offered him a warm smile. How have you been?

  Quite lonely, actually.

  I didn’t know what to say to that so I changed the subject. I suppose you already know we’re going to war with Bella?

  Yes, of course. I am nothing if not an eavesdropper, as you well know.

  Yeah, poor ghost; not like he had much going on just being stuck in the house with only the home’s inhabitants for company.

  I snuggled down into my duvet and was silently thankful for the company. So you already know that Rand won’t let me fight?

  Yes, I think it for the best. You are not a soldier.

  I shook my head, trying to suppress the disappointment coursing through me. Ugh, I don’t need to hear it from you too. There are plenty of other females fighting and I’ve got just as much ability as any of them, if not more.

  Pelham crossed his long ghostly legs at the ankles and leaned against one of the canopy banisters, actually sinking into the dark cherry wood.

  Yes, but those females are werewolves and vampires. They are not like you.

  I nearly choked on my irritation. I’m a good witch.

  No one is arguing that. You are just too important, Jolie. Your gift needs to be protected.

  I shook my head. My gift is nothing without Rand. I need him to help me bring the dead back to life. If my gift is so important, he shouldn’t be allowed to fight either.

  He is the leader, so he must. Besides, when the war is over, you will be extremely busy with resuscitating the dead.

  I faced him with a question in my eyes. What do you mean?