Something Witchy This Way Comes: A Jolie Wilkins Novel Page 7

  I opened my eyes and smiled. My magic was getting stronger every day. A few months ago it would have taken me way longer to break through one of Mercedes’ wards, and yet that little stunt had taken me all of thirty seconds. Yep, I had definitely come a long way.

  Returning to the business at hand, I inhaled deeply and opened the door with my chin held high. I immediately noticed that Bella was standing at the far end of the living room, her arms crossed against her buxom chest, an irritated expression on her face. I glanced around the room, taking in the comfortable furnishings. For a prisoner, Bella was living the high life.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  I sighed—things with her were never easy. “I’m here to give you an ultimatum, Bella,” I started, not wanting to pick a fight but finding it difficult to keep a level tone. “You can’t remain a prisoner here forever.”

  Her left eyebrow reached for the ceiling as she considered me with straight lips. “I’m listening.”

  I didn’t back down or drop my gaze or the rigid resolve of my shoulders. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer and I also wasn’t here to negotiate. “I want you to take the loyalty oath and become a member of my kingdom. I want you to have your freedom and be an ally, not an enemy.”

  She didn’t say anything right away, but just studied me with her eyebrows knitted in the middle of her face, looking super pissed off. “What’s the alternative?”

  “Permanent exile,” I said immediately. “And in these uncertain times, that wouldn’t be a smart choice for you to make.”

  “What uncertain times?” she repeated, glaring at me as if she desired nothing more than to see the floor open up and swallow me whole.

  But I wasn’t going to be done away with so easily.

  “The Lurkers are becoming an ever-growing menace.”

  “Interesting,” she said with a frown, not appearing to take the threat seriously.

  I was suddenly struck by the notion that Bella knew more than she was letting on. It was there in her eyes and the way her lips curved up at the ends into something that resembled a smile. “Interesting?” I repeated as I eyed her suspiciously.

  “Interesting that the Lurkers don’t appear to be what everyone always thought they were,” she continued. She was acting like she had a plethora of information up her sleeve.

  “What do you mean?” I demanded irritably.

  She shrugged, playing aloof, and even added a yawn. She was pissing me off … royally. “We’ve always believed they were just vampire impostors,” she started, “but they’re much more than that. They are witches, or at the very least, they possess magic.”

  Now this wasn’t exactly new information. I realized that the Lurkers possessed magic when they assaulted me in my dreams, something a vampire could only dream of doing, no pun intended. But how Bella had obtained this information was the million-dollar question. As soon as the thought entered my mind, though, I remembered that she had helped cure me when the Lurkers attacked me in my sleep. It had happened in the virtual reality that was created when Sinjin time-traveled. Was that what she was referring to? If she could remember that, it also meant that she was well aware of the history between Sinjin and me, just as I was well aware of her infatuation with him.

  “How do you know this?” I asked, none too gently.

  “I guess you could say I’ve been in contact with them,” she said, and then shrugged again, as if she hadn’t just dropped an enormous bomb right into my lap.

  “You what?” I insisted, my voice cracking with the effort. And that was when I got angry. “Bella, as your Queen, I demand you tell me everything you know about the Lurkers or I will try you for treason.”

  She smiled at me, a smile that suddenly turned ugly. “I have a few of my own requests before I’ll impart any information. And as to you being my Queen, I haven’t taken that loyalty oath yet in case you’ve forgotten. I owe you no allegiance.”

  I cleared my throat, telling myself to calm down. Getting into a bitch fest wasn’t going to help either of us. “Whether or not you take the oath doesn’t change the fact that I am the Queen of all Underworld creatures. Whether you support me makes no difference.”

  She frowned, but said no more. And I realized that this was my window of opportunity—I needed to try and get information out of her without ruffling her feathers. The more I played offense, the more she’d dig her heels in the mud, and that would get me nowhere. “What are your requests?” I asked.

  “I want my freedom,” she responded quickly.

  I’d figured as much. “Meaning what?”

  “I want the freedom to return to the States and be my own solitary witch.”

  I shook my head. “You must first become a member of this kingdom.”

  She nodded. “I will take your silly oath.”

  I was surprised, but tried not to let it show. She’d always seemed completely opposed to becoming a member of any kingdom, opposed to subjugating herself to anyone else’s rule, especially mine. Why? Because Bella had wanted to be Queen of the Underworld from the beginning. We actually waged war and battled over that exact subject, which was how she became my captive. Obviously, she lost.

  “Then all you’re asking for is to return to your home in California?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  “And you will abide by our rules and laws?” I continued.

  She simply nodded again. That was when it hit me—if she had information on the Lurkers, she might be a useful source. “I will grant your request on one condition …” I started.

  “Which is?” she asked, eyeing me askance.

  “You can have your freedom and return to the U.S. only if you work with us against the Lurkers. I want to know everything you know and any new information you receive.” No, I didn’t imagine Bella would just willingly hand over any new information. What I wanted—and she was well aware of it—was to put a spell on her that would force her to deliver any newly acquired information—whether it be a dream, a vision, whatever.

  She was quiet for a second or two. “Deal.”

  I wasn’t sure why, but I hadn’t thought it would be so easy to win her over. But any joy in that thought was tempered when I remembered that Bella had admitted she was in contact with the Lurkers. This was information I wanted and needed. “So spill the beans,” I said. “How have you been in contact with the Lurkers and what do you know?”

  She glanced out the window and seemed to be stalling for time, making whatever she had to say that much more suspenseful. She was like an actress—well-trained in the art of duplicity and disguise.

  “I received information by way of a vision from someone who called himself the Supreme Elder of the Lurkers,” she said.

  I took a deep breath, feeling my heart beginning to pound louder. “Go on.”

  Her lips tightened and her eyes went a bit wide. Bella was scared—I could read it in her gaze. “He said his kind will attack us. They are preparing now.”

  “They’ve already attacked us,” I said absentmindedly, recalling the disappearance of the twenty vampires. Then it occurred to me that I probably shouldn’t reveal anything to her.

  She scoffed at me, waving her hand in my face as if I were an idiot. “This will be a battle, a war between our kind and theirs. The attacks they’ve waged against us so far are no more than child’s play.”

  “And the Lurker elder told you this?” I demanded suspiciously.

  “Word for word,” she answered simply.

  “When will this battle take place?” I insisted. “And where?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  It was about as useful as the information Mercedes had collected through her Lurker task force. It seemed we had lots of tidbits of news; in a vast puzzle where our pieces were so small and inconsequential, we couldn’t even tell what the puzzle depicted.

  “They are in the process of preparing now,” Bella repeated. “It is just a matte
r of time before all hell breaks loose.”

  “How did you get this information?” I asked. “Was it a vision from your own mind or do you believe it was sent to you? Did the Lurkers actually contact you?”

  She frowned. “Yes, they definitely contacted me.”

  “Maybe they’re just trying to throw you off or make us believe something that isn’t true.” And then something else occurred to me. “Or maybe you’re just making this up.”

  She glanced over at me in surprise, and moments later her look of shock gave way to anger. “I will gladly subject myself to a Liar’s Circle,” she said. A Liar’s Circle was a spell that allowed the charmer to test whether or not someone had pure intentions. It was considered the best trial to decide if a witch was genuine. I closed my eyes and imagined a circle of bright white light surrounding her, then repeated the words in my head several times: Bella Sawyer, are you sincere? A bluish light began to usurp the white glow of my circle, which meant Bella was telling the truth. She had been contacted by the Lurkers, or at the very least, she’d channeled a vision of them.

  “Mercedes needs to hear this,” I said. “Everyone does.”

  “I wasn’t finished,” she said, and frowned at me again.

  I glanced at her in surprise. “Go on.”

  “They want you,” she finished.

  “What?” I asked, swallowing hard.

  She shrugged like the news wasn’t a big deal, like it was no sweat off her back. Yeah, ’cause all the sweat was on mine. “The elder said it was the Queen they were after.” She glanced at her fingernails, appeared to carefully inspect them for the next few seconds, then looked up at me. “You should do us all a favor and turn yourself over to them.”

  I decided to ignore that last bit. My mind was entirely stuck on the Lurkers wanting me. Was that the reason I’d been the only one to receive that strange dream of the battlefield and the unattended throne? Probably so. I glanced at Bella again, wondering if she knew more. “Why were they after me?”

  She shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

  I felt sick to my stomach just explaining everything Bella had told me to Rand and Mercedes. I didn’t know what it meant that the Lurkers wanted me in particular. I mean, I guess it made sense to bring down the Queen first, as the figurehead of the Underworld, but still, that didn’t make hearing the news any easier to swallow.

  “We need to speak with Bella,” Rand said as he paced back toward me from the far end of the living room.

  “You are certain she is telling the truth?” Mercedes asked me, worry evident not only in her tone, but also the strained look in her eyes.

  I merely nodded. “I did a Liar’s Circle on her, so I know she was.”

  “We still need to talk to her,” Rand continued, now starting for the opposite side of the room. He pushed his hands into his pockets and stopped pacing for a few seconds, glancing at me even though I knew he was wholly focused on his thoughts. I could see it in his eyes.

  “She’ll tell you the same thing she told me,” I said. “She doesn’t know why they want me or what they’re after, Rand.”

  Mercedes nodded, but it seemed she was lost in her own thoughts, looking right through me. “I do not like this one bit,” she finally admitted. “I can feel magic stirring—something in the air,” she continued. Rand stopped pacing again and faced her at the same time I did. Mercedes nodded and strode to the window, the moonlight bathing her in its milky glow.

  “What magic?” I asked.

  She didn’t turn to face me. “Magic that I don’t recognize … magic that is not born of our own.”

  “The Lurkers, then?” Rand asked, running a hand through his hair. “You must be detecting their magic.”

  I felt myself stand up automatically from where I’d been sitting on the couch. Rand wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in. He glanced down at me and I was suddenly suffocated with feelings of protectiveness.

  Everything is going to be okay. I heard his voice in my head.

  I said nothing, just nodded at him and smiled, wondering if he could feel my doubt through our bond.

  “I can feel them stirring and I believe they will act soon,” Mercedes said, turning to face us. “I can’t get a grasp on anything more.”

  “Then you must have received the same vision Bella did,” I said, my voice sounding hollow.

  “Perhaps,” Mercedes answered, then sighed in frustration. And frustration on the face of the prophetess definitely didn’t give me a good feeling.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked.

  She glanced at me and frowned. “I do not know.”

  The next day I found myself sitting on the sofa in Christa and John’s living room. The house, which was a modest brick two-story, was in the neighboring town of Coldingham, Scotland, a mere ten minutes from Kinloch Kirk. With everything that had been going on recently, I just needed a mental break, some time to focus on something other than the Lurkers, Sinjin, and Bella. And my best friend would provide me with just the hiatus I needed.

  As I took a sip of my iced tea, Christa shifted from her position on the floor and rolled onto her stomach, propping herself on her elbows. With her legs in the air, she flipped through Bride magazine quickly as she sang in time with Coldplay’s “Clocks.” I looked around her, at the multitude of wedding books and magazines strewn about like the entrails of some beast.

  We were in the midst of discussing wedding colors and invitations. Luckily, the wedding invitations had pretty much been decided on, so all I had to do now was sit through an endless display of four-inch squares of various fabrics in an array of colors. With all the swatches scattered around me, I looked like I’d been sewn into a patchwork quilt. But endless questions on wedding colors aside, I was so grateful to have Christa in my life. She had been by my side through all the ups and downs and the trials and tribulations of my transformation from Girl-Next-Door Jolie to Queen of the Underworld Jolie.

  “I like the celadon green, I think,” I said, pointing to the third scrap of fabric she held in her hand, next to a bubble-gum pink and a tangerine orange. Celadon green I could handle. Irritating bright pink and fluorescent orange? Not so much. In fact, I couldn’t help but grimace.

  She glanced at the green scrap and held it up to a silver one, clasped in her other hand, studying them both with a razor-sharp intensity. “You think they go together?” she asked, not bothering to look up at me.

  “I think the green goes way better with silver than orange or super-annoying-pink does,” I answered with a smile as I started collecting the remaining swatches that littered the floor like a butchered rainbow. I figured she’d narrowed the color choices down to green, silver, orange, and pink.

  “Well, I’ve got to have some pink. You know it’s my favorite color,” Christa protested as she held up the pink with the green. It actually wasn’t as off-putting as I’d imagined it would be. ’Course, at this point I was pretty much over the whole thing. I mean, you can only look at color pairings for so long before you start to lose your mind. And we’d been at this for well over two hours.

  “Whatever you want, Chris,” I said with a smile. “It is your wedding.”

  “Well, you are the maid of honor,” she argued with me. “So I do want your input.” She smiled broadly at me, kicking her feet back and forth like a restless kid.

  “I’m happy with whatever makes you happy … but if you force me to wear anything fluorescent orange, I will kill you,” I finished, and pointed with distaste at the orange swatch that was now crumpled on the ground in front of her.

  She laughed, and something suddenly occurred to me. Christa had been in my store with me the day Rand first walked through the door two years ago, and she’d also been there when Sinjin did the same, after he went back in time to mess with my past. That mystery hadn’t yet been put to bed—the mystery of which reality was the true one, the real one. Well, now it was time to find out the answer.

  “Okay, I promise not to put you in th
e orange,” she said, smiling up at me as she reached for her Martha Stewart Weddings book. She opened the first page, humming as she skimmed it, and moved on to the next. Reaching for her stack of Post-it notes, she started marking pages that apparently deserved a second look.

  “Chris …” I hesitated, knowing my question was going to sound odd, but I couldn’t think of any other way to ask it, so I figured a direct approach was best. “Do you remember the first day Rand walked into my store in L.A.?”

  She eyed me before nodding, then dropped her attention back to the book. She was marking off a page with a picture of a butterfly bouquet—butterfly bouquet, as in no flowers, just butterflies on the ends of what looked like nearly imperceptible wire surrounded by a cloud of tulle. It was cute. “Yeah, ’course I do. I remember how we both freaked out about his English accent and how hot he was. Who knew he’d end up being so stuffy?”

  I raised my eyebrows at her and then laughed, imagining how offended Rand would be to hear her talk about him like that, although she sort of had a point. Sometimes he could be stuffy, but I assumed that was from his austere English upbringing. I must admit that I still loved him for it, all six-feet-two inches of Rand Balfour stuffiness.

  I gulped as I considered my next question. “And do you remember the day we met Sinjin?”

  She turned to the next page and inhaled quickly once her eyes feasted on a picture of a table setting completely in celadon green, including the floral arrangements, which appeared to be green roses. And, yup, the accents were in silver. “Wow, Jules, look at this.” She studied it for a minute or two, cocking her head to the right and then the left. “You know, you’re right; this color combination really looks pretty.”

  I glanced at it and smiled, but my thoughts weren’t on table arrangements. “Yeah, really pretty.” I cleared my throat, eager to get an answer to my question, if only to understand how her brain had processed something so implausible. “Do you remember Sinjin walking into the store, Chris?”