Blood of the White Witch (6 page)

“Who was it?” I asked, after he placed the
receiver down.

“It was your dad,” he replied, and he
scooted the phone back toward the rear of the dresser. “He says he
hopes we’re having a good time together. He also said our contact
will meet us in the morning at a restaurant called Crannog at the
Waterfront, in Fort Williams at ten o’clock. He said the man’s name
is Brian.”

“How will we know him?” I asked.

“He said he’d be waiting for us outside the
front door.”

“Sounds cold,” I said thinking of the brisk
weather we had been having since our arrival in Scotland. “We’d
better dress warm in case we have to wait on him.”

He nodded his head, before changing the
subject back to the previous topic.

“How did you enjoy your evening though,
really?” he asked, wrapping his arms around me.

“It was wonderful, thank you,” I replied
with a smile. “Did you have a good time?”

“Of course.” he answered. “At least I did
when I wasn’t frustrated with every other man in the room. But then
again, any time I’m with you constitutes a good time.”

“I can think of a few times when we’ve been
together that don’t make it very high on my list of good times,” I
reminded him, and several memories of the past flashed through my
head.

“Let’s not think about those anymore. We’ll
just make new happy memories, okay?” he suggested, bending to kiss
my lips.

I was just getting warmed up with his kiss
when he pulled back, staring at me with a puzzled look on his
face.

“What is it?” I asked a little
concerned.

He looked me over for a moment, as if
weighing his words before he spoke them.

“I don’t know. It’s just that I always
thought when I’d finally be able to be with you in the physical
sense, it would ease some of the desire, the ever-constant drive I
have to be with you.”

“And now that we’re together that way?” I
asked him, truly curious about his answer.

“It’s a million times worse.” He laughed,
seeming pretty amazed at his own statement. “I hope you don’t think
I’m crazy, Portia, but I just can’t get enough of you. You drive me
to complete distraction.”

“Well, if I’m being honest, then I must
admit I’m enjoying your affections greatly,” I replied as I wound
my arms around his neck. “And if it helps you at all, I feel the
exactly the same way.”

“Do you?” he asked, holding me tight in his
iron grip. “Because you seem to be controlling it a lot better than
I am.”

“Not really. I just enjoy watching you be
the aggressor in this relationship. You do it so well.” I smiled
seductively at him and could actually feel the wave of passion as
it rolled off him, lighting us both on fire.

“Now that’s a role I can definitely handle,”
he said. He suddenly scooped me off my feet and carried me over to
the bed.

He tossed me unceremoniously onto the soft
surface, before reaching down to my feet and removing my black
strapped heels, kicking his own shoes off at the same time, and
then coming to lie next to me.

I reached over to grab his necktie, working
it loose until I could pull it over his head. Then I began working
on the buttons on his shirt as he searched out the side zipper of
my dress.

“I love you,” he said, and he placed a kiss
against my exposed collarbone.

“I love you, too,” I whispered back, and I
slipped my hands into his shirt, pushing it back over his muscular
shoulders. The two of us spent the rest of the night wrapped
together creating our own blissful haven.

The morning did indeed turn out to be very
cool as we stood bundled up, in front of the restaurant, waiting to
meet Brian, our contact. We were a little bit early though, so
Vance currently had me tucked up against a nook in the wall,
shielding me with his body from a bone-chilling breeze.

“I wish this place were open so you could go
inside,” he said with a concerned look, and he wrapped his arms
around me in a giant bear hug, laying his head down against mine.
“I don’t want you to get sick.”

He would occasionally reach down to pull my
hands up to his mouth where he would blow long puffs of his warm
breath onto them, after which he would rub them briskly between
both of his warm hands, which he would heat slightly with his magic
for my benefit.

“I’m fine, really,” I said with a smile,
loving every second of his careful treatment of me, watching his
hands as they heated mine. “How do you always know how to do stuff
like that?” I asked, looking up into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he replied, meeting my
glance with a bit of a confused look.

“I mean how do you know how to use your
magic? Everyone is always telling me how gifted I am and that my
powers are so strong for how new they are, but the fact of the
matter is I have no idea what I’m doing or how to use them even.
You respond so naturally to things, like you know exactly what your
powers can and can’t be used for.”

He chuckled slightly.

“Portia, you do have an unnatural ability to
control your powers when you use them, but no one expects you to
know what you’re doing or to even feel comfortable with them at
this level. My powers manifested at the age of five. I’ve had years
to learn to manage and master them effectively. It’ll probably take
the same amount of time for you to come into your own as well.
Don’t sweat it. Just take your time, play around with your powers,
and feel out what you can do. You’ve reacted to situations as a
normal human being your whole life. It’s going to take time to
change that mentality.”

“You just make everything look so easy.” I
smiled at him. “How are things for you now that you’ve assimilated
more powers?” I asked, referring to the powers he had taken from
his father during their fight to the death.

He sighed heavily.

“That’s the perfect example of what I’m
trying to tell you. I have powers that I’m not even aware of. At
some point in my life I may discover them and learn how to properly
use them to the point that they’ll begin to feel comfortable to me.
It really is a trial and error process, and not having any
knowledge of the people my dad performed a demon kiss on, I really
don’t know what kind of magic is there.” He laughed a little then.
“See, we’re kind of in the same boat.”

“True,” I replied seeing his point. “But
you’re already very accomplished in your magic. What if I never
reach the level that people expect of me? I don’t want to be a
disappointment.”

He lifted my hands to his lips then and
kissed them.

“You’ll never be a disappointment to anyone,
baby,” he said. “Just keep doing what you’re doing and try to
figure things out for yourself. If it’ll help you feel any better,
maybe we can find some time to work on our magic together,” he
suggested.

“I think I’d like that,” I replied with a
smile, and he kissed me lightly on the lips.

After several long minutes of standing there
together, we noticed a black car pull up alongside the restaurant.
A young man, who looked to be in his early twenties, stepped out
and began to walk over to us.

“Mr. and Mrs. Mangum?” he asked while he
approached.

“Yes,” Vance replied, turning to stand in
front of me.

“I’m Brian Fitzgerald,” he said, extending
his hand politely.

Vance reached out and shook it.

“Vance,” he replied with a nod before
turning to me. “And this is my wife, Portia.”

I laughed internally at the notable emphasis
he put on the “my wife” part. The Alpha male in him was obviously
racing to the surface. He was definitely more determined to put his
stamp on me of late.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said with a
smile. I reached out and shook his hand also.

“Likewise,” he replied with a bright smile,
his green eyes flashing as his sandy hair ruffled gently in the
breeze.

He was a nice looking man, I thought to
myself, only to feel the tiniest surge of jealousy run through
Vance’s head as he picked up on that particular thought. I squeezed
his hand in reassurance. No one in the world would ever be better
looking to me than Vance.

“I spoke with your father then?” Brian
asked, and he looked at me with a congenial expression.

“Yes.” I nodded.

“He was inquiring about some information
that would lead you to find your family,” he said, turning to
Vance. “I’m happy to say that I have that information right here
for you.”

He reached a gloved hand into his pocket,
pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to Vance.

“The Cummings family is much respected
around here,” he added. “I’m pleased to meet another relative of
theirs. They’re great people.”

“Really?” Vance replied, quirking an eyebrow
up at him.

I knew he was more than a little confused.
We were expecting that his grandparents were possibly holding his
mother prisoner and not to be of a good sort of people.

“Yes. Their humanitarian work is quite well
known through out the area,” Brian continued, still smiling. “In
fact, I took the liberty of contacting them and letting them know
that you were inquiring about them. They were thrilled to hear of
your arrival and extended the invitation for me to drive you to
their place, if you so desire. They seemed very excited to meet
you.”

Vance turned back to look at me in question,
surprise written clearly on his features.

“What do you think?” he asked me, and I
could hear the caution threaded through his voice.

“I’ll do whatever you think is appropriate,”
I replied, not really knowing what I thought about the situation
but happy he valued my opinion on the matter enough to consult
it.

Vance turned back to Brian.

“I’m sorry about the hesitation,” he
explained. “This wasn’t exactly the news we were expecting.”

“No worries,” Brian responded with a grin,
in his thick Scottish accent. “I’d be happy to take you there and
even wait for you if you’d like.”

Vance looked at me once more, before making
a decision. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head while
he tried to quickly weigh out the pros and cons in this turn of
events. He finally turned back toward Brian.

“Very well, we accept your kind offer,” he
agreed, and I had to admit I was a little surprised to hear it.

“Wonderful,” Brian said, gesturing toward
his waiting sedan. “Shall we?”

Vance notified our driver that he could head
back to the castle without us, then he took my hand, and we
followed Brian over to his vehicle. Both of us climbed into the
back seat together, while Brian entered the front.

“How far away is this place?” Vance
asked.

“Just a few miles over River Lochy and
toward Torcastle,” he replied. “We should be there in about thirty
minutes. It’s a beautiful drive through the countryside to your
grandparents’ estate. I think you’ll really enjoy it.”

“They live on an estate?” I asked more than
a little intrigued to learn about the place we were heading to.

“Yes. It’s a beautiful old manor house, made
from granite. Douglas and Fiona have always taken special care to
see that the grounds are kept immaculate, and the out buildings are
maintained in perfect condition.”

“Douglas and Fiona?” I asked in confusion at
the unfamiliar names he mentioned.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking back
at us through the rearview mirror as he drove. “I assumed that you
might know their names. Douglas and Fiona Cummings are your
grandparents,” he said looking specifically at Vance. “They’re
truly wonderful people.”

I looked over at Vance who had turned my
direction and was now arching an eyebrow at me. I could see that he
wasn’t entirely comfortable with this situation as doubt filled his
gaze.

“How do you know them? If you don’t mind my
asking,” he said, determined to probe a little deeper.

Brian laughed lightly.

“My mother heads up one of the local
charities in the area. Fiona has donated her time to the cause on
many occasions. I met them mostly through the several charity
functions we’ve attended together.”

“I see,” Vance said, sitting silent for a
moment. “So they knew about me when you contacted them?”

“Yes. They said something about you having
disappeared as a child before they ever had the opportunity to meet
you. They said you’ve changed your last name, though. I spoke
directly to your grandmother. She was quite overcome with emotion
at the thought of finally getting to meet you. Apparently she and
your grandfather had some type of falling out with your father in
the past and he refused to introduce you to them,” he
explained.

Vance leaned back into the seat then, taking
in everything Brian had just revealed to us.

“He seems legit,” I said into his head.

“He definitely knows what he’s talking
about,” he agreed mentally. “This sudden turn of events has thrown
me off my game,” he added. “I don’t know what to think.”

I reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Are you nervous?” I asked, and he stared
into my eyes.

I saw a lot of conflicting emotions
there.

I knew having a real family had always been
a dream of his. It was something he had always longed for. He had
wanted to someday reunite with his mother and have some type of
family life together. As it was, he had believed that he was the
one who had killed his mother, only to find out it was possibly an
imposter he had destroyed instead. Of course, there was no question
that he had been the one who killed his father. Now he was getting
ready to walk right into the unknown, meeting relatives he had
previously known nothing about.

“I have no idea what I’m feeling,” he
replied honestly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

I linked my arm through his and leaned my
head over onto his shoulder, snuggling up against him.