Amethyst Flame (The Flame Series Book 2) (7 page)

“I won’t pretend I’m not in trouble. Loghry is behind this attack.”

“Seriously? The wizard who owns all those sex clubs in Elegance? Oh-h-h-h, wait a minute. It’s retribution for the girls you and that witch rescued, isn’t it?”

“Yes. He abducted the triplets again, then tortured and killed them. So, yeah, this was personal.”

Lily got very quiet, then finally asked in a voice full of despair. “Are we going to see you again?”

She’d asked the question of the night. “Hell if I know. But I’m not going down without a fight, which is why I need to talk to Brannick. I need his help, and I need you to keep this on the down low. Can you do that or will this get you in trouble with Easton?”

Silence followed for a few difficult seconds. When Lily spoke, he heard granite in her voice. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Easton is a pig. Just tell me what you need me to do. I’ll come to you, if that will help. I’ll walk out of this building right now and to hell with the calls that come in. There are only a handful of you men on the right side of things and Vaughn, I tell you this with all sincerity, I’d lay down my life for you. So, I mean it when I say
ask anything of me.
”

His throat grew tight, and he had to take a minute before he could answer her. He swallowed hard a couple of times. “Tell you what. Go ahead and contact Brannick directly. Tell him I need weapons, a couple of AR-15s and ammo for my Glock. Have him take a duffel to the safe house in central Crescent. He’ll know the one I mean. I’m not sure when I can get there to retrieve it, but I’ll call you back in a few to check on timing.”

“You got it. Shit, Easton just walked in.”

He heard the clicking sound of the disconnect and didn’t attempt to call back. Lily knew what she had to do, both to contact Brannick and to keep herself safe as well as to deal with Easton.

The chief of Crescent Border Patrol was in deep with the cartels that supported Loghry. Any suspect move on Lily’s part could get her killed.

But how the hell were he and Emma supposed to bust into Loghry’s mansion when security was known to be the best in Five Bridges?

~ ~ ~

Emma loved her spellroom. It overlooked her garden at the northwest side of her property, and whenever she was in the space, her owl would fly to the very old Indian laurel that shaded her French doors. She often threw them wide when she was mixing a brew in her cauldron, which she did now. She called to Stormy and he fluffed his wings in response.

When she’d first become an
alter
witch, she’d felt compelled to create what for every witch or warlock was a very private, personal space. She’d visited a number of spellrooms and from her response to each, she designed the best layout for her own spellcasting and brewmaking equipment.

She hadn’t been so opposed to exploring her craft in the early days. It was only a few weeks later that she’d made the decision to permanently limit her spellcasting powers. She’d learned to her horror that many powerful witches belonged to dark covens that routinely slaughtered other species, especially vampires.

On the west wall of her room was a hutch she’d had fitted out with several shelves. Glass canisters, each bearing black labels and gold calligraphy, contained dozens of dried herbs, seeds and pods, as well as mushrooms, leaves, roots, and flowers. Her housekeeper kept the room immaculate, but from the time Emma had filled each container, she hadn’t used but a handful of the contents in seven years. A spell kept them all from deteriorating.

She lit the gas flame beneath her cauldron and added a cup of purified water and a bay leaf. She had one goal, to see as much of the future as she could so that she and Vaughn could plan accordingly. Bay always increased a sense that the future was only a thought away.

Once the water was releasing steam, she moved to stand in front of her canisters. She repeated the words of a spell meant to invoke prescience. As she touched each canister, she pulled the ones forward that spoke to her.

She lined up the canisters and from each withdrew the amount that called to her. One by one, she ground them up in her marble mortar using a matching pestle, then added them to her cast iron, brew pot.

As soon as the recipe was complete, Toby hurried into her spellroom and rubbed around her ankles. The presence of her cat told her she was on the right path.

With the water boiling and the fragrant steam rising, she felt the room grow even more focused, more centered.

She bent over the cauldron and closed her eyes. Using both hands, she wafted the steam toward her and let the essence of the brew flow through her nostrils and into her lungs. A faint dizziness assailed her mind.

She repeated the process several times.

When the entire room was filled with magic, she turned the flame off. She set a glass measuring cup on the small filling platform, and with a pair of oven mitts and taking great care, she tipped the cauldron to release the brew.

When the measuring cup held the liquid, she filled her sink with an inch of tepid water and settled the cup in the basin to cool the boiled liquid.

While she waited for the potion to become drinkable, she gathered bay infused candles and arranged seven of them in an arc at the head of her purple velvet
chaise-longue
.

She changed out the tepid water, adding back a much cooler temperature. She did this several times very gradually until the brew was drinkable.

Pouring the potion into a red ceramic cup, she held it with both hands then moved to the French doors.

She called to her owl. “Stormy, come in please. I need you with me.” She stepped aside to make room for him through the doorway.

The owl dipped off the branch and once clear of the leaves flapped his broad wings a few times then glided through the open doors to a perch in the center of the room. Stormy created a layer of protection for Emma as she slowly imbibed the potion designed to enhance her ability to see the future.

When the red cup was empty, she slid it beneath the
chaise-longue
. She stretched out and allowed the brew to work within her mind. After a few minutes, she set about casting her spell, invoking words she’d written years ago, calling the future to her.

She waited.

But nothing happened.

She could feel the spell all around her and inside her. But the power she’d experienced in the Graveyard seemed to hover at a significant distance.

Spreading out her arms, she once more opened herself up to her power.

But again, it was as though she was stunted in some way she didn’t yet understand.

She sat up and instinctively knew everything should have worked. She glanced at Toby who eyed her with what she thought was a rather skeptical expression.

She shifted her gaze to Stormy. “What do you have to say?” The owl rose up once and flapped his wings, then twisted midair to face away from her toward the door leading into the hallway.

When Toby trotted toward the door as well, she knew her familiars were trying to tell her something.

She rose to her feet and followed in Toby’s wake.

He went straight to Vaughn, who now sat in the front living room, ensconced in the large, dark leather chair she’d bought for Max when he’d first moved in. He held his phone in one hand, checking emails, a heavy frown on his brow.

For some reason, images of making love with him in the dressing room flowed through her mind. Her entire body tingled at the memory and her eyes burned with sudden affection.

He looked great in Max’s t-shirt and jeans. He was also barefoot, which made her smile. Even sitting down, he looked like a warrior, shoulders broad and the snug dark gray t-shirt conformed to thick pecs. He had strong cheekbones that angled to an equally strong jawline. His nose had a slightly hawkish appearance.

He looked up at her. “Hey.”

His steely gray eyes melted her. For a moment, she couldn’t remember why she’d even come in here. At least, not until Toby jumped up on the arm of the chair. Vaughn’s hand went to the cat’s back, and he pet him absently all the way down to his tail.

Vaughn’s eyes narrowed. “Everything okay?”

On some level, she knew she was behaving oddly since she hadn’t said a word. But it might have been the spell keeping her off-balance.

She could feel the brew working in her now as it hadn’t in the spellroom. Images began moving through her mind like a carousel, spinning round and round, similar to her experience in the Graveyard. Though she knew the future was right there, she couldn’t access the snapshots.

She took a step toward Vaughn, then another. The carousel began to slow and a couple of the images, this time of a pine forest, appeared very clearly. But nothing more.

“Emma?”

She lifted a finger. “Give me a sec.”

She took a few more steps in Vaughn’s direction and the spell tightened. More images fell into place. “I think I need you,” she said.

A soft smile touched his lips. “You do?”

She didn’t mistake the look of pure affection on his face. She realized her words had a second meaning. But rather than respond, she pondered the question.

Did she need him?

God, yes. To talk to her on the phone, to ease her, to sex her up, to make her time in Five Bridges bearable, and to help her feel safe when she was nothing but vulnerable because an evil wizard wanted her dead.

After a moment, she returned his smile. “I wish things were different. So much.”

He nodded slowly. “Me, too. But I’m guessing you have something on your mind other than our relationship.”

Back to reality.

“I’m sensing you’re needed in my spellroom. I know it doesn’t make sense, at least it doesn’t to me, but I think you might be able to help me access the future.”

He was on his feet and moving in her direction before she’d finished her thought. Her throat grew tight all over again. She’d spoken a handful of words about what she needed and he was right there for her, ready to help.

How was she
not
supposed to fall in love with him?

Her heart warmed all over again as he drew close. She liked so much about Vaughn already, but his willingness to support her witchness meant a great deal. She knew how much he hated and feared her kind. The dark covens routinely trapped vampires with their spells, then killed them.

Yet here was Vaughn, trusting her and supporting her.

The moment he drew within three feet of her, the carousel moving within her mind stopped and the future was right there. She felt dizzy and would have fallen, but he caught her arms with his hands and held her upright.

“What’s wrong?”

How could she explain? “Nothing. When you touched me, I finally had access to the future. I just don’t know why you’re having this kind of effect on me.”

“Are you saying you couldn’t do it on your own?”

“That’s right. Earlier, when I put all the ingredients into a potion for getting a look into the future, very little happened, not even when I opened myself up to my witch power. But when I came out here, the power increased incrementally each time I got closer to you. In fact, both Stormy and Toby encouraged me in your direction. For whatever reason, Vaughn, you’re connected to my abilities. Will you join me in my spellroom?”

He’d never looked more serious. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

~ ~ ~

Every vampire part of Vaughn resisted Emma’s request. Power vibrated in the air around her with more of those small bursts of electricity, though she didn’t seem to notice. And the closer he drew to her spellroom, the stronger the instinct rose to get away from her witchness.

When he reached the threshold, his feet refused to budge. He even looked down at them.

Emma turned back in his direction, her gaze sliding to his feet as well. “What’s wrong? Why are you still standing in the hall?”

“I’m a vampire, remember? My instincts tell me I’m walking into hell.”

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She took a deep breath. “Remember when you bit me?”

Why was she asking that? “Yes. Of course.”

“You held me in thrall. You could have killed me. But I trusted you. Right now, I need you to trust me that I would never hurt you.”

He shook his head, fists on hips. “This isn’t personal, Em.”

His gaze fell to her hands, to the tips of her index and middle fingers. One touch to the temple of his forehead or to the base of his neck, a single jolt of power, and he’d be dead.

When he didn’t move, she drew close and planted her hands on his arms. “I need you in here. I can’t do this without you, and believe me, if there was any other way, I’d do it.”

Her touch sang with energy, but instead of recoiling, a strong sensation filled his chest. It felt strangely like a bond he already had with her, though amplified when her witchy power began to rise. After a moment, he realized something else was in play as well. He was experiencing not just Emma’s witch energy but her determination to do some good. The shift in focus away from her killing potential to what drove her right now, shoved his instincts into the background.

“Vaughn, all I care about is taking Loghry down.”

His lips curved. “I love that about you.” Without thinking, he moved inside her spellroom, then responded to a different kind of instinct and took her in his arms.

He kissed her hard, letting her know how much he respected her. She uttered a small cry as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He could feel she was on her tip-toes. She wasn’t short for a woman, probably five-ten, but he was damn tall at six-six.

When her lips parted, he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue inside. She responded with a moan and pressed her body up against his. She glided her hips back and forth in an effort to feel his arousal. He helped her out by moving one of his hands, grabbing her bottom and pressing her up against him.

He drew back just enough to meet her gaze. “Is that what you want?”

She nodded with a series of quick, hungry jerks of her head. “Vaughn, this is crazy, the way I feel about you. And if we had time—”

“I know. But I’ll make you a promise that if we survive the night, I’ll take you to bed and I will be thorough.”