The Witching Craft (The Witches of Redwood Falls 2) Page 6

  "There hasn't been much to go on. Without more information on the item, finding a way to crack the curse won’t be easy."

  Zander swore. If Jack didn't have at least a partial solution after a few days, Zander had a problem.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he spoke quieter. "The counter spell was housed in the Redwood Falls vault, but has since been destroyed."

  "Damn.”

  “And hat was the good news. The spell is tucked into the Curator's mind. But finding a way around the curse is a picnic compared to the minefield we’ll face entering her mind. Keep looking."

  "Why do you need it at all? What's the problem?"

  "Because the wearer will die if the talisman is taken. And she's my mate."

  Silence echoed over the line. "I’m on it."

  Persephone finished in the kitchen, her steps echoing down the hallway.

  He stepped outside, closing the door quietly. "Just find a counter for the separation. Oh, and the talisman will inactivate if taken off. We'll need to bypass that too."

  "I'll see what I can do." His friend didn’t sound hopeful.

  "I owe you."

  "You bet you do." Jack hung up with a laugh.

  Zander put his phone to sleep, praying he’d done the right thing.

  8

  For the tenth time that morning, Persephone smiled for no reason as she worked in her forge. All right, there was a reason. She just couldn't believe it.

  She'd kissed Zander.

  She closed her eyes in delight. His lips, his taste, his body, staggered her. The pure power their connection brought had multiplied exponentially over the last decade. He’d consumed her.

  Why had she touched him? It certainly wasn’t wise. But she couldn’t deny the pull bringing them together. The desire to reach out, to connect, to join with him overwhelmed her. Being with him, his lips on hers, the pleasure, she shivered just thinking about it. All that feeling without linking magick.

  Humming, she secured metalworking tools and shucked her gloves. She’d tinkered more than worked. Glancing at the hunk of gold in the fire, she chuckled. She'd have to start from scratch tomorrow. Her mind was too rosy to concentrate.

  But who cared? She hugged her arms around her waist. She had all the time in the world to craft items. Life blossomed before her. Bright, shiny, beautiful.

  All because of Zander.

  Maybe she'd judged him too harshly. They'd been so young when he left, and back then, she couldn’t see past her own happiness. He’d loved her, but needed more, needed to set his mark on the world. She'd dreamed of accomplishing that together, but she’d been unfair to expect Zander to want the same thing.

  She didn't blame him for leaving. Not anymore. How could she? Her life would be vastly different without the separation. She wouldn’t have honed her craft, purging her hurt, devastation, and anger in the forge. She would’ve been with him, happy, curled up in bed, taking care of babies.

  Living life.

  Her skill would’ve atrophied without the hard hours she’d devoted since his abandonment.

  And the talisman wouldn’t exist without those abilities.

  In a way, Zander’s absence assisted her in fulfilling her destiny.

  Her heart softened. Maybe he deserved a second chance. Heaven knew she’d needed her fair share of them. Why shouldn’t Zander have the same opportunity?

  In the time since his return to Redwood Falls, he’d saved her life and secured the bracelet. Perhaps he’d earned a little trust.

  Celeste would be pissed, warning Persephone to keep her guard in place. And she would, to a point.

  She’d lived alone, shuffling along all these years. She'd attempted to survive, to socialize to the best of her ability. But having experienced life with her mate, nothing compared. Nothing, not friendship nor hobbies, could fill the aching void.

  Zander was her mate. They belonged together.

  Grinning, she burst through the forge’s doors, breathing the mist-scented air in deep. Birds chirped happily in the late morning light. She wanted to sing, too.

  Catching sight of her mailbox, she realized she hadn't checked her mail in almost a week. She bit her lip. Old George was probably annoyed with her. Her ancient mailman complained if she left her mail in the box overnight.

  She'd have an apology handy when she ran into him next.

  Humming again, she ambled around the outside of the house to the sidewalk to gather the mail, too full of thoughts of Zander to remember to check the boundary spell.

  She had about thirty minutes until he picked her up.

  She grinned, wondering how they’d behave with each other after last night. After that kiss.

  She opened the mailbox door and magic jolted up her arm, transferring through her body. She screamed before power traveled to her lips, freezing her in place. Her mind reeled, panicked.

  She had to get loose, get back inside.

  Her stomach dropped. The boundary… it’d been tampered with.

  A man advanced from the trees. Fear washed over her. Without movement or the ability to speak, she couldn’t protect herself.

  His blue eyes flashed in triumph. "I'm sorry to have to do this."

  You don't have to! Her mind screamed, but she couldn't force words from her mouth.

  He leaned against her mailbox, his body loose, easy. He chuckled. "I was starting to worry your mail would pile up indefinitely."

  He softly chanted a spell, and the ice in her veins thawed, replaced by an equally restrictive mystical netting. Her limbs relaxed to her sides with relief, but she couldn’t control them. "Come. We don't want to linger. Zander would have my ass if he found me here."

  That’s exactly what she wanted. If only she could speak, delay him from taking her. Fighting against the net, she managed to twitch an eye. Useless.

  His hands curled, drawing her forward like a puppet. His doll to command. No matter how hard she thrashed against his hold, her body involuntarily stepped toward his uncloaked car and climbed in.

  Revving the engine, he sped off. She as his prisoner.

  He adjusted his mirror before glancing at her. "I'll let you talk if you promise not to scream or cast." She nodded, before he added, "If I hear even a whiff of a spell, I'll muzzle you in a blink."

  She swallowed hard. Any thoughts of enchanting her way out of this mess vanished. She’d bide her time, gaining more freedom before making her move.

  The force around her mouth loosened, and she opened her lips, gulping in air. She'd been able to breathe through her nose just fine, but not being able to open her mouth exacerbated the need.

  "Who are you?" If she could talk, she’d interrogate him, pump him for information that might assist her escape. She would get out of this.

  "I’m Jack. Another freelancer like Zander."

  Her heart stopped. "You keep talking about Zander. I assume you know him?"

  "Sure." His fingers tapped against the wheel like they were on a Sunday drive. "We've worked together on a lot of things in the past."

  "You’re friends?"

  He shrugged. "You could say that."

  "Then why are you doing this? Zander will be furious."

  He grinned at her. "Yeah. He'll be pissed as hell when his mate turns up missing."

  Her mouth fell open. He’s a monster. "So you know we’re mated? How could you do this?"

  "Easy. The money. A client hired me to capture the talisman. Fortunately, Zander told me about the curse, that the talisman will deactivate if removed. That little tidbit saved my ass. My client wasn't happy to take you on, but he acknowledges it's the only way to have the talisman in his possession until it’s safely removed."

  Her stomach clenched. It wasn’t true. He wouldn’t do something like that. "Zander?" She choked on his name. "Zander told you about it?"

  Sympathetic eyes met hers. "Don't be too hard on him. He was concerned about your welfare. He wanted a way to deactivate the spell to ensure your safety before someone stole it. He
knew it was only a matter of time until that happened. Fortunately for you, I knew about the curse. Now you’ll live."

  Zander had jeopardized everything. How could he do that?

  Tears gathered in her eyes. She'd trusted him, fooled herself into thinking he'd changed, into believing what they had was special, unbreakable. She was the idiot here.

  The hold around her arm loosened and she quickly wiped her tears, grateful Jack remained silent.

  Zander betrayed her. Again. She wanted to yell, to curse him, but couldn't. In truth, she could only blame herself. She'd let him in. She'd trusted him. Even Celeste warned her against it. But her heart hadn't listened. She'd let the enemy in. And now the bracelet was in danger.

  "Where are we going?" She finally asked when the invisible net closed around her arm again.

  "My client's fortress. You'll be kept there until a counter spell is found."

  "And then what? I'll be killed?"

  His hands tightened on the wheel. Maybe he wasn't as bad as she first thought. Maybe there was still a way to appeal to him, to persuade him to reconsider. "You don't have to do this, you know. You can just let me go."

  He blew out a breath. "Nice try. I've contracted with the client, and there's no going back. Don't worry." He nodded to her. "I'll do everything in my power to keep you alive. It's the least I can do for Zander. I owe him."

  Her mouth snapped shut. And she thought Jack wasn't all bad? Did the man have no conscious at all?

  He turned on classical music, cranking the knob low. "You should rest while you can. It's a long drive, and I doubt you'll get much sleep once we arrive."

  She gaped at him. Was he completely insane? Rest? After she'd been kidnapped? Like this was some sort of vacation and she needed to pass the time?

  She jerked her freed head toward the window, uncaring that her body couldn’t follow.

  No, there'd be no sleep for her. The only thing she controlled was her mind. And she'd have to get herself out of this mess.

  Alone.

  * * *

  Zander whistled as he pulled up to Persephone's house, not a care in the world. Damn, he was happy in general. They'd made huge progress yesterday, and having her back in his life empowered him. How soon her could kiss her again?

  He grinned, parking the car. He couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms.

  Rounding the car, he brushed against the mailbox. He’d bring in the mail for her. It was a matey thing to do. And he was all about fulfilling his matey duties.

  He opened the mailbox door and a residual shock shot his arm. Realization dawned as blood drained from his face.

  "Persephone!" He slammed the box closed, running to her house. Banging on the door, he screamed, "Seph!" He yelled loud enough she'd hear him in her forge, but she didn't answer.

  Returning to the mailbox, he examined the lingering magic. The paralytic spell was potent. And fast acting. She didn’t have a chance to fight it off.

  Who’d done this?

  Banking on a long shot, he cast an identifying spell. He'd worked with hundreds of other Magicks, and he prayed the mystical fingerprint was tied to someone he knew. Otherwise, it was much like DNA not found in a database.

  The spell ended, unmasking Seph’s kidnapper.

  Jack.

  He swore.

  Zander should have known. Netting was Jack's MO. Why wage a battle with spells when laying a trap and capturing his target proved easier?

  Jack would pay for this.

  Ripping his phone out of his pocket, he dialed.

  "Zander, what can I do for you?"

  He jumped in his car, cradling the phone. "You bloody well know what you can do. You can bring my mate back. Now."

  "Can't do that. I have a contract." Guilt tinged his friend’s cheerful tone.

  Zander couldn’t care less how his former friend felt. Only Persephone mattered. "I swear I'll kill you. Put her on the phone."

  "You know I won’t hurt her." Jack spat.

  "I don't know you at all. The person I knew would never do this."

  Jack snorted. "You would've done the same not long ago. She's changed you."

  Zander gritted his teeth as he drove out of town, heading to Jack's place. As much as Zander loathed to admit it, there was a grain of truth in Jack’s words. "She my mate."

  "And you'll have her back as soon as the talisman is removed," Jack assured him, but Zander knew that once he turned her over to his client, he'd have very little say in how they treated her.

  To get her back, he’d have to appeal to Jack. Trade something. "You and I both know that might not happen. Bring her back and I'll give you whatever you want."

  Jack was silent, and Zander knew, tempted. The objects in his personal vault would tempt even the most self-restrained Magick.

  "I can't. Voltaire wants her."

  Breath clogged his lungs. "Voltaire?" he asked hoarsely. "You can't be serious. You'd let the talisman fall into his hands? What the hell were you thinking? The balance will be destroyed."

  "Not my problem."

  "Make it your problem," Zander snapped. "You have no idea how bad it’ll be."

  "As much as I'm enjoying out little chat, I have to go. I give you my word she won't be harmed."

  "Sorry if I don't trust your word, friend," he sneered.

  Zander heard Jack shrug.

  "Your choice."

  Zander swore when the line went dead. He redialed, but Jack already turned off his phone. “Damn it!”

  Gripping the wheel, he chanted a location spell. He’d find Jack wherever he was.

  He’d never be free of him.

  9

  Persephone woke slowly, groaning as the room spun. Pressing her palms against her head, she hoped it would stop.

  What had happened?

  She slit open her eyes, gritting teeth as lights from a chandelier blinded her. A chandelier?

  Where was she?

  Slowly, she tilted her head, opening her eyes a little wider at the plush bedroom she occupied. Satin rustled beneath her as she shifted on the bed, testing her limbs.

  Body intact. Good.

  Pieces of the day jumbled through her mind, warping, puzzling together until she remembered Jack.

  And being kidnapped.

  She jerked off the bed, moaning as her head throbbed.

  "I would take it easy if I were you."

  Whirling toward a wingback chair, she glared at her assailant. "And I think you should keep your opinions to yourself," she spat. "What did you do to me?"

  Jack clucked. "Nothing that won't wear off soon. I couldn't have you fighting me when we arrived. Plus, I don't want you to know exactly where here is."

  "Why?"

  "Knowledge is power. It'd be that much easier to escape,” he snapped his fingers, “if you knew the location of the fortress, the exits, the guards." He nodded at the talisman. "You have more power right now than I want to tangle with."

  If only she could use it. Did Zander leave out that essential tidbit?

  Her heart clenched. How could he do this to her? How could he betray her? Was he truly that selfish to put his desire for the talisman above all else? “How long was I asleep?”

  “Most of the car ride.” Jack rose from his chair. "Come. Now that you're awake, he'll want to see you."

  "Who?"

  "Voltaire."

  She hissed. "You brought me to Voltaire? Are you insane?"

  Circumstances couldn’t be worse. The bracelet’s power was dangerous in anyone’s hands, but in Voltaire's, it'd be catastrophic. He was ruthless, evil, using anything and anyone to further his plans regardless of the consequences. He didn’t care about balance or truth or what was right. Only one thing mattered.

  Power.

  She shivered.

  Jack stretched. "Hey, he's the one with money. I just do what he says."

  She wanted to lash out and strike him for his idiocy. No one could be that dense. "So, you work for him? You're one of his lackeys?
"

  His eyes narrowed.

  Maybe poking the nest wasn't such a good idea. Then again, he’d make mistakes if riled. It was worth a shot.

  "I don't work for anyone but myself. Like Zander, I freelance."

  She pushed herself off the bed, forcing the spell’s lingering effects from her limbs. "You're nothing like Zander."

  “Uh huh.” He smiled politely. "Let's go."

  Jerking her shirt in place, she forced one foot in front of the other. The exertion regained more feeling in her legs.

  In the hallway, she scanned her surroundings, searching for exits, guards, escape routes. The exact things Jack knew she’d note.

  Persian rugs, expensive art, and rich colors dominated the mansion. A beautiful shell for the monster who lived within.

  "Through there." Zack pointed to opened double doors, motioning for her to enter first.

  With a deep breath, she notched her chin up and stepped through the door.

  A suave man with slicked back blond hair dabbed the corner of his lips before standing and offering her a chair next to him. "Ah, you're awake. Come. Come and eat."

  No way she wanted to sit with the villain, but at her hesitation, darkness filled his eyes. Picking her battles was a priority. This wasn’t the time to take a stand. She needed to eat, to keep strong. He’d have his way... this time.

  "Thank you." She accepted his help into the chair.

  Jack didn't sit at the table. Instead, he hovered in the shadows of the room, ready, waiting for an order from his client. As much as Zander’s betrayal hurt, he was nothing like Jack. Zander wouldn’t have tossed her to the wolves.

  "I hope you like lamb." Voltaire's napkin sailed to his side before settling in his lap. "It's one of Cook's best dishes."

  It didn't matter if he served her the finest cuisine in the world. She'd choke on it. "I do."

  "Excellent." He signaled a servant waiting along the wall. Moments later, a fragrant, steaming plate settled in front of her.

  Unable to wait, she jumped to the point. "What do you want from me, Voltaire? Why am I here?"

  She already knew why, of course. It was the same reason why she’d fended off attacks for several weeks. Voltaire wanted what they all wanted.