Magical Stew Page 3

  “It is only this past fortnight I have been shown the Goddesses’ wishes. Christian too knows of his place in the fate of Alamonar. But Katarina also is aware of the prophecy, and Rhonal desires that she bear Christian’s child. To this end, she has taken my love prisoner.” Mirabella’s face paled to chalk-white and her lips thinned into a tight line before she said, “We will free him.”

  “We?” Brianna looked from Mason to Mirabella. “You can’t mean me. I don’t know anything about magic.”

  “Mason and I will free Christian. Your part is simple–you have but to give me a few drops of your blood– and remain alive until I have cast the spell.”

  “Remain alive?” Brianna parroted the words.

  Mirabella reached into a pocket of her apron. She pulled out a smooth disc of white hanging from a braided cord. “I have charmed this amulet with wards of protection.”

  “Are you saying this Katarina wants me dead?”

  Mirabella nodded. “She will stop at nothing to rule Alamonar.”

  Brianna went rigid with panic as Mirabella looped the cord over her head. Fear made her knees shake, but she pressed them tightly together and asked, “And if I won’t help you?”

  Mirabella and Mason exchanged a quick look.

  She stared into first one silent, watching face and then the other. There was only their word she was in another world. She was probably in the woods in Mason’s backyard. If she could get away from them, a short hike would take her to the road and then home. Maybe they were part of a weird vampire cult. Fine. Let them have their blood. Then she was out of here. She held out her arm. “You want a few drops,” she emphasized a few, “then take them.”

  It was as if Mason read her mind. “You must not leave this glade,” he said. “Katarina would have you before an hour went by.”

  She surged to her feet. “How do I know any of this is the truth?”

  He stepped in front of her, but did not touch her.

  Brianna went still. “Get out of my way.”

  “I helped to bring you here,” he said. “I won’t let Katarina have you.”

  “Why?” Brianna snapped. “I’ve got enough blood to go around.”

  “She does not require your blood,” Mirabella said, “but she will make sure there is none for my use.”

  Brianna reached out blindly. Hands grabbed her shoulders and settled her back on the cot. “I want to go home,” she said, and knew she sounded childish.

  “And you will go home. I give you my word I will do all I can to protect you,” Mirabella said. “Two days of your life and a few drops of blood. It is all I require of you. There is no other. The child of prophecy must have Sarunos’ blood flowing in his veins and you are the last of his line.”

  “But you said I couldn’t have the child. And if I’m the last of his bloodline…”

  Mirabella held up her hand. “The Goddess has given me the words to prepare a potion. Your blood is vital to it. Once I drink, Sarunos will become part of me. In two sunsets, there will be a solar eclipse. That is when I must prepare and drink the Goddesses’ magik.”

  Brianna licked her lips. “Just who is this Sarunos? And how the hell did I get his blood?”

  “The name Sarunos Malachi means nothing to you?”

  Brianna shook her head, staring out the cottage window. “Was he a god here?”

  “A mortal, but a mortal with strong powers of magik and even stronger beliefs of right and wrong,” Mirabella sighed. “He made enemies, enemies who bargained with Rhonal to achieve their ends. Then, as now, Alamonar’s fate rested upon a scale. The gods of light and dark battled, both evenly matched, and Sarunos was the prophesized child who would tip the balance.

  “Rhonal sent those to tempt Sarunos with power, wealth and, when he reached adulthood, women. But he chose the path of light, tipping the scales to justice and right, and Alamonar prospered.” She paused to smile. “Rhonal was shunned, almost forgotten in time. And does a god exist if it is not worshipped? Rhonal began to doubt his own existence and seethed and fumed, surviving only on his hatred for Sarunos. Continually he whispered his black promises to evil hearts.” Mirabella stared down at Brianna.

  “Rhonal formed a plan to murder Sarunos before he could father a child and continue his line.

  “Lilith was Sarunos’ love. They married and ruled Alamonar with wisdom. But she did not conceive, and at night, as she dreamed, Rhonal whispered lies into her heart. Lilith’s handmaiden, Evangeline, fell beneath the dark god’s influence. She told Lilith of a witch-woman whose spells would make her womb fertile, and late one eve, Evangeline led Lilith from the palace.” Mirabella moved away, her back to Brianna.

  “The witch-woman, in truth Rhonal himself, told Lilith her barren condition was not her fault, but her husband’s. He gave her a potion to awaken her husband’s seed. The next eve, Lilith offered her husband a goblet of wine–in the morning, he lay dead.”

  “Oh, my God,” Brianna said. “But then how…?”

  “That is the irony – Lilith was already with child. Knowing the truth too late, she fled the castle.” Mirabella touched Brianna’s shoulder. ”My great-great grandfather’s grandfather sent her into your world to hide, and Sarunos’ line continued.

  “On into me,” Brianna said, still not sure she believed any of it.

  Mirabella nodded. “You are the last. Rhonal’s hate has festered and now, with the coming of the prophesied child, it has burst.”

  Mason put his hand on Brianna’s arm. “You won’t be safe in either world until the child’s conceived.”

  Brianna raised her head. “And he’d kill me to stop you from using my blood?”

  “Rhonal will not kill you–the other god and Goddesses will not permit it, but they will not stay the hearts and hands of those who obey his wishes,” Mirabella said.

  “When I agreed to help Mirabella, I did not know it was you, but I swore I would protect the last of Sarunos’ bloodline,” Mason’s lips thinned, “and this time I will. You must trust me.”

  This time? What did he mean? And there was something else. He’d said it right before she’d passed out. What was it? But it wouldn’t come to her, and she pushed the thought away. She just couldn’t handle anything more right now. “Trust you? Now why would I do that? I’ll keep myself safe, thank you very much.”

  His jaw tensed, but he turned away in silence.

  “Will you help?” Mirabella said, her eyes pleading as she moved to stand near the cot.

  Brianna closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them and said. “I have to. If I want my life back.”

  “I am sorry, but such is the truth of it,” Mirabella said. “With a night’s rest, I could return you, but you will remain in danger for the rest of your life. And if you have children of your own, they too will be in danger from Rhonal. Without Sarunos’ blood, the Child of Prophecy will lead Alamonar into darkness. An evil that will spread…”

  “I get it,” Brianna said. “I said I’d stay.”

  “Thank you. All of Alamonar is in your debt.” Mirabella turned and walked toward the cottage door.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Brianna asked.

  “I must fast and commune with the Goddess.”

  “But what do I do?” Brianna didn’t want the other woman to leave her here, alone with Mason.

  “Heed Mason’s words. He will keep you safe.”

  Brianna glared at Mason, and she heard Mirabella sigh. “Child, when I saw who you were and that this time you were a woman of mature years and not a mere girl, I rejoiced. Do not prove my relief wrong. Listen to Mason’s words. He knows what we face and has my complete trust. You are of the most importance to me. Do you think I would take a chance with your fate? I will return soon.” Mirabella walked out the cottage door, closing it behind her.

  In the brush, well away from the warded cottage, a fox watched the sorceress leave. Its yellow eyes turned once again to the door and its ears flicked forward. Should he stay and watch, or return
to his mistress with news the one had arrived?

  The cottage door remained closed.

  With a flick of his tail, he turned and darted into the darkness of the trees.

  Chapter Four

  The hearth’s flickering flames danced restlessly on the pile of logs.

  Katarina gloried in the waves of warmth that caressed her naked form. She lifted her hands and combed her fingers through her flowing mane of curls. Today, she had chosen a molten scarlet hue for her tresses, much the same color as the blood she yearned to watch flow from Mirabella’s scrawny neck. The vibrant strands were like silk twining around her fingers. She could have tamed them into a subdued braid with a single word, but instead enjoyed the softness of their kiss upon her bare shoulders and hips.

  Without turning, she knew exactly when Vulpine arrived. Closing her eyes, she felt his lust overflow, and her nipples tightened in response. Perhaps this eve she would shape-change into a vixen and couple with him beneath the stars. A smile curved her lips, but was quickly erased before she faced him.

  He shifted back into human form and dropped to his knees before her. She stared for a moment at his bowed head. With his broad shoulders and narrow hips, he was easy enough on the eyes. His fingers were long and slim and knew how to pleasure a woman’s body. A pity he was not the one she craved. “Vulpine, rise.”

  “Mistress.”

  She let his gaze devour her face a moment before lifting an eyebrow in warning.

  “The blood heir of Sarunos is here,” Vulpine said, lowering his eyes again.

  “Male or female?”

  “Female.”

  Damnation. A man would have been more pleasant to subdue. She waited in silence for him to continue.

  “Brianna, she is called. There is another, a man. I feel a power within him, but it is blocked.”

  Katarina waved a hand in dismissal. “Then he is not a threat to me. It is the woman I want.”

  She whirled to walk back to the fireplace and stared into the flames. “Mirabella has made her last mistake. She thinks she does as her vapid earth Goddess wills, but it is Rhonal’s path she walks. What now? What does my god want from me?”

  “The dark god, he you serve….”

  Katarina spun to face him and his words trailed away. “I serve no one.” Her icy tone emphasized the word ‘serve.’ “We have an alliance that profits both. I give to him this woman who has the blood of Sarunos in her veins, and he will give to me the Child of Prophecy. With the infant comes Christian and all of Alamonar.”

  “Mistress, please, a question?” Vulpine didn’t raise his eyes.

  She nodded her head, willing to indulge him a moment longer.

  “Why does the dark god wish the heir of the ancients?”

  Katarina shrugged. “All I have been told is those with the blood of Sarunos must die. And this, Brianna, is the last. Enough questions. Help me dress. It is time for a visit to my guest.” She watched his face flush and smiled. “What gown will it be this day? Perhaps the forest green? Or the sky blue? Which will bring Christian to his knees before me?”

  Katarina knew it enraged Vulpine to help in her plan of Christian’s seduction. She watched his eyes narrow to slits. He despised her games and urged her to force an appeasement elixir between the man’s lips, and then order him to lie with her. Perhaps he was right. But no, she wanted Christian to love her of his free will, and he would. How could he not? No man refused her.

  Katarina turned from him and moved to a freestanding wardrobe. She whispered an incantation and felt her hair rise from her body. It separated into three plaits and deftly braided itself into one long rope. When she felt its weight fall softly to graze her waist she turned, satisfaction soothed her as she saw the yearning upon Vulpine’s face. She smiled and lifted her hands above her head in a languid stretch. Yes, Christian would come to her; it was only a matter of time. The smile faded. But time was against her. She would give her reluctant lover-to-be one more day. Then they would lay together, one way or the other.

  Katarina reached into the wardrobe and pulled a sky-blue gown free. She lifted it above her head and let its softness flow down her body. The translucent gown teased with beckoning shadows. The neckline dipped into a deep V that just covered her peach-hued nipples. She took a step forward and a slit in the skirt, all the way to her waistline, opened and showed a flash of bare skin.

  Vulpine groaned thickly, his need apparent.

  With a satisfied smile, she turned her back to him. “Do my laces.” She heard him move to her, felt his fingers caress the middle of her back before he drew the first laces together. A fire ignited in her lower stomach. She thrust her buttocks back against him and found the evidence of his desire. Vulpine’s hands stilled and, with a throaty laugh, she dipped her knees and then straightened, rubbing herself against his length.

  His breath came harshly, and she felt his hands slide into the sides of the gown. His fingers slipped along her skin, traveling upward. She waited until they reached the curves of her breasts, and then pulled away. “The laces,” she said coldly. “My guest awaits.”

  His fingers hesitated for a moment, trembled, and then returned to her back and the lacing of her gown. “Mistress,” he breathed; his strained word warm upon the back of her neck.

  Yes, tonight she would reward him with a frolic among the trees.

  Chapter Five

  Mason watched Brianna wander the room. Her restless gaze lighted upon everything but him. When he could take no more, he moved to block her path. “Are you ready to listen?”

  She frowned at him a moment before nodding.

  “I’m a witch in our world.” He watched her face for her reaction. Otherwise, he would have missed her quick suppression of fear. It didn’t surprise him. “Brianna, do you believe in reincarnation?”

  She did not answer right away, just stared beyond his shoulder. “What does that have to do with right now?”

  “This is my fifth life,” Mason said. “And in each I have been born a witch.” But you know this, he silently added. You have been apart of each of them.

  Brianna frowned. “You remember living before, clearly?” He could see her obvious confusion.

  “You don’t?”

  “I didn’t say I believed in such stuff.”

  “But you do.” It wasn’t a question. Whether she admitted it or not, some part of her believed.

  “I’ve had dreams. Bits and pieces are clear,” she said with a shrug.

  He was surprised at her words. Even now, her strength pulsed between them. As she’d lain on the cot, he’d stared into her face and remembered their previous times together. Did he dare tell her? “Have you opened yourself up to the past?”

  “What’s the point?” She gave him a hard look. “Did you know of Sarunos Malachi?

  He nodded. “Yes. I’ve known Mirabella and Alamonar from before. She required my help.”

  “And mine?” She rubbed her upper arms.

  “You’re cold.”

  Her lips curved into a slight smile. “I’m not sure what I am.”

  His own long yawn caught him by surprise.

  “Have you slept at all?” she said.

  His answer was a short shake of his head. She pointed to the cot. “Go ahead.”

  “I have to watch…”

  “I promise to be a good girl.” When he still hesitated, she added. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

  His face flushed. “I never thought you were.”

  “Then show a little trust.” She held his gaze until he looked away.

  “Fine.” He moved to the cot. “I am a light sleeper. If anything…and I mean anything seems odd, wake me.”

  “I’ll scream loud enough to drag Sarunos himself from his grave, moldy bones and all.”

  Stretched out upon the cot, he looked at her. “Do not remove the amulet.” He turned his back to her.

  “Is it okay if I go outside?”

  When he did not answer, Brianna crossed to the cot
and looked down at him. Most of the tense lines had left his face. With a small smile, she drew a soft quilt up the length his body. Her fingers grazed his hip and he moaned softly. At the sound, embers sprang into existence in her lower stomach. She stepped back and stared down at him. Whoa. It had been awhile, but she knew a sexual ping when she felt it. What gives? He wasn’t her type. She liked her men with a little more bulk, and he looked underfed.

  Mason’s hair had escaped its band and lay in a black curtain against his shoulder. She watched the rise and fall of his chest for a moment before reaching out to touch a strand. It was warm from his body and soft beneath her fingers. His lips parted and released a soft snore. Brianna drew her hand back with a smile. He had a wonderful mouth, sensual, but not feminine, and she’d found herself watching his lips whenever he spoke. But it was his eyes, the clear blue of a cloudless summer sky that blazed his feelings. He’d never make a good poker player.

  She moved her gaze over him. He’d spent some time outdoors, his bronze skin told her so and he had to have some Native American blood flowing through him with that hair and chiseled cheekbones. Her fingers hesitated above his lips, and a memory floated through her mind of him trembling at her touch, his eyes darkening to sapphire-blue. They’d been together before, he a witch like he’d said, and she a warrior priestess.

  With a soft groan, Mason turned onto his back and she saw the hard outline of his arousal tenting the black robe he wore. Was he dreaming about her? The thought made her breath quicken. If she went to him…? Her nipples hardened and the embers of heat in her stomach flared into full flame, flowed downward and pooled between her thighs. The cottage seemed to be stifling and growing smaller by the second.

  “My God, I need a cold shower,” she whispered. “What the hell. He didn’t say I couldn’t go out, just to be careful.”

  Outside, she lifted her burning cheeks to a cool wind. ‘Do you believe in reincarnation?’ Mason had asked.