Forever (Book #3 in the Fateful Series) (23 page)

Sir Roland spoke again as though Ethan had said nothing at all. “However, I will do this much for you ... I will enchant you so that if these witches try to cast a spell upon you, it will repel the magic and bounce off, doing you no harm.” The old man continued to tug at the string as he spoke.

“But what about Danielle and Nadia? What if they try to use them as hostages?” asked Max, thinking of that angle as any trained knight would.

“If you are holding onto them, then they will be protected as you are. But, if they try to use their spelled arrows against you, then my magic won’t help.” Knobby fingers gave another nervous tug at the string, harder this time.

“Why?”

“Some witches are archers, and those who are have perfected the art. Their arrows can pierce any enchantment.”

“But you don’t know if these witches are?”

“The dregs don’t tell me that.”

Taking a breath and releasing it slowly, Ethan shared a look of concern with Max who asked, “Can’t you do something that will protect us from that too?”

“There are incantations that would work against ordinary weapons. However, not against the potion on the tips of their arrows.” The string came off around Roland’s finger. With a slightly startled look on his face, the man let the thread drop to the tattered rug below his feet.

“Why not?” Ethan asked as Roland inspected the spot on his jacket. A frown formed between his eyebrows as though he’d only just now realized the button was missing.

“They use a dark magic that is older than even I am,” Roland said, not meeting his gaze.

“What about vampires? Can we take them to help us?” Ethan asked without thinking. The question had already left his lips when he remembered Alora mentioning how much this sorcerer disliked them, but it was too late for him to call the words back.

Hatred flashed in the old man’s eyes at the mention of vampires, and Ethan felt bad about that. “Bring them if you like, but the poisoned arrows will destroy them too. Permanently.”

Recalling how the French witches had easily put the guards into magic-induced comas, he believed Sir Roland was probably right. They had no choice but to attempt this rescue alone, and as mortal men.

Ethan felt disheartened by the outcome of this meeting. Sorcerers were supposed to be more powerful than witches. Of course, Sir Roland had offered to enchant them for protection, but Ethan wasn’t convinced this frail version of a sorcerer was capable of accomplishing the task. Unfortunately, they didn’t have time to seek out another sorcerer. Frustration twisted inside Ethan and wrung out the last of his patience. Not bothering to mask the anger in his expression, he opened his mouth, but snapped it shut when Alora interrupted. “Thank you, Sir Roland,” said Alora as she gave Ethan a warning look. “We are deeply grateful to you for your time and generosity.”

Roland’s face lit up when he met Alora’s beaming smile with his gaze. In a loving manner, he touched a gentle finger to Alora’s tiny hand and sighed, the air wheezing out of him. “There is a reason why sorcerers and sorceresses do not live together. While we are immortal, we can be quite dangerous to one another’s health in our wrath. I am the unfortunate victim of such a curse. I am aging and will not live forever. I do all of my own cooking and cleaning to save my magical strength. Mostly, I live as a mortal because even though I have lived for centuries, I am no longer immortal. Certainly, the magic in my brittle bones keeps me warm at night, and it is available to me when needed, but otherwise I conserve what I have.”

A strong sense of pity rose up to replace the annoyance Ethan was feeling as he took in the sad loneliness in the sorcerer’s eyes. The poor old gent. What must life be like for him? He must feel so very secluded and forgotten.

A hint of the man Sir Roland used to be flickered to life in his humble expression. The change made his eyes look more blue than gray. Roland stood, forced his spine a little straighter, cleared his throat and conjured a map. He unrolled it and hesitated when his eyes landed on the mess of dishes littering the trunk. “Allow me,” Ethan said, jerking to his feet as he worked to clear the surface. Max helped and they carried it all off to the kitchen.

When they returned, Roland had the map spread out over the top of the trunk and he was studying it with fingers curled around his chin. They again sat down and his eyes found Alora who was hovering at Roland’s shoulder, but she soon ignored him.

Max and Ethan watched while the fairy and sorcerer discussed different locations, and he was surprised to be the witness to a bit of flirting. Once they’d settled on a city in Hungary called Tatabanya, Sir Roland had walked his fingers across the map to circle Alora as though dancing with her. She giggled, took flight and planted a kiss on his bulbous nose. Sir Roland chuckled in response, cupping his palm into a place for Alora to sit. She sat down and curled her feet beneath her. “You must come and visit again, my sweet fey friend.”

“I promise I will,” said Alora.

“And you’ll bring your friends with you?” Sir Roland asked, grinning as though he was sixteen instead of nine hundred and sixteen, and blushing.

“Of course,” she said batting her eyelashes at the old man.

“And you’ll dance for me?”

“Uh,” began Max, “I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds, but we really should be going.”

“Oh! Yes, the enchantment!” Sir Roland blushed some more. “I nearly forgot.”

The old sorcerer stood and shuffled around the trunk to stand in front of Ethan and Max. He touched his hand to each of their heads and murmured a series of words, again in Old French. Releasing them, he brushed off his hands and said, “You’re all set, my lads. Go and conquer the wicked witches.” His smile slipped slightly. “Just mind their cunning nature, and watch out for poisoned arrows, and...” Roland snapped his fingers, “Oh, what was it?”

Preparing to leave, Max and Ethan stood as they waited for him to finish with his warnings. The time stretched out until Roland finally said, “Seems I can’t recall what the third thing was. Never mind that. Carry on! Carry on!”

As they made their way back to the SUV Max muttered, “Do you feel enchanted?”

A sardonic laugh left him. “No. You?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think this is going to work?”

“I haven’t got the foggiest...”

Ethan turned to the fairy. “Alora?”

“What?” she asked, the picture of innocence.

“Is this really going to help us? Sir Roland seemed kind of—”
loony,
he finished in his head.

A pair of little fists landed on Alora’s hips. “I think he is charming.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I know his enchantment will help.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders at that, deciding at this point it didn’t really matter, and he would just make sure that he and Max were well armed when they faced these damn witches.

Chapter 12

Lies

Someone was moaning.

Danielle’s eyes cracked open and she tried to rub at the crick in her neck, but she couldn’t get her hand up from where it was pinned at her side. Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. Waiting for her vision to focus, she took in the smells around her. Smoke, grass and something else that smelled a bit like cinnamon filled the air.

Blinking, Danielle wondered why her vision wasn’t clearing up when the moaning came again. She turned her head to see a blurry face framed with dark hair. Whoever it was, they were looking at her too.

“Danielle?”

Her memory came flooding back and she gasped. “Nadia.” The name came out very slurred and she wondered if she was under the influence of some kind of drug, because that would explain why everything was blurred and throbbing strangely with each beat of her heart. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see,” complained her friend in a similarly slurred voice.

After closing her eyes, because the crazy lights dancing across her vision were giving her a headache, she drew a measured breath and released it. She could at least tell the world was still cloaked in darkness, except for lights that shown at them from a few different directions. Danielle believed the brightest one to the right was the fire that she could smell. And there had been one higher above which she believed to be the moon. Of course Danielle didn’t know how long they’d been unconscious, so it could be the same night, or a few nights later. She had no way of knowing which.

“Was that you moaning before?” Danielle asked because she was curious.

“No, it was you,” replied Nadia.

“Are you sure?” she asked, unable to recall if she had been or not.

“Well, no. One of the moans could have been me,” admitted Nadia. “I feel like I’ve been run over.”

Danielle laughed weakly. “Me too.”

Moments passed where she listened to herself breathe, and felt her ribs press against the ropes binding her with each inhale. She wiggled the fingers of her left hand. Because she was being held so snugly in place, they were falling asleep and tingling. She hated that feeling. Turning her attention outward, she again listened to her surroundings. Except for the sound of crickets and the wind brushing through the leaves of the tree she was tied to, it seemed as though she and Nadia were alone.

Nadia broke the silence with, “What do you think they’re going to do to us?”

All of the possible answers crept through her thoughts like nightmares. Would they turn them over to the werewolves? To Lucas? Or did they plan to kill them? “I wish I knew,” she whispered back.

The headache was still there, but she opened her eyes anyway. She stared at a spot in front of her, waiting for the edges to sharpen so she could see exactly what it was. Slowly.
Very
slowly, whatever it was started to take shape. Perfect right angles and peaks came together into the shape of a building. It was obviously a house, or a mansion to be more exact. Danielle was certain she was staring at the back of it, but it still had the decorative architecture she thought the front would normally have. It seemed like it was an old structure because the corners were adorned with stone gargoyles, their wings stretched wide like they could swoop down at her at any moment, and their teeth were bared with the promise of a terrible death if they did grasp her with their talons. There was an octagon-shaped sunroom coming off the side. It was lined with windows which looked black in the moonlight. A stone fireplace was on the other side of the house. A curl of smoke twisted up from the stack, and Danielle couldn’t help but imagine how nice the fire inside must be. So, this is where witches lived? “Huh,” she said, but didn’t notice she’d spoken out loud until Nadia responded.

“‘Huh,’ what?”

“It’s a house.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Are they there? The witches, I mean.”

“I believe they are. I saw a light over—” Nadia interrupted herself with some grunting and the rustling of fabric. Apparently she was trying to point and couldn’t move. Nadia made a sound of frustration before going still and continuing, “—it was on the right side of the house on the second story.”

“Huh,” she said again as her eyes swung up to the windows above the sunroom. They were all dark now. The house was so dark, she couldn’t escape being startled when a light appeared on the first floor, and the French doors leading to the patio opened. Breath caught in her throat when six women came out, two of them holding curved knives that caught the moonlight and tossed it against the surrounding trees and shrubs with their movement. Were there only six of them living in that huge house? Even as she wondered about that, most of her attention stayed on the weapons, but there was so much light, her gaze was drawn to the moon for a brief moment. Danielle’s eyes widened at the full moon shining down on them lighting the scene almost as though it were day. Subconsciously the pace of her breathing increased and she swallowed. There was a huge chance these witches meant to give them to the werewolves if they had them here on a full moon. Or was that when witches did their magic too?

Seeming to ignore them, the witches encircled the fire. Again, Danielle wasn’t certain if this was the same fire they’d started when they’d arrived, or a new one. Had they been here for a night or a week? Wishing she’d paid more attention to the moon while at the fairies’, she again watched the witches. They’d linked hands. The blades were now secured in sheaths on two of the witches’ belts. Swaying back and forth, the witches hummed a melody she’d never heard before, like a group of Girl Scouts singing camp songs around a fire. Whatever it was they were doing, they seemed really happy about it.

Danielle was not happy about this at all. She could sense the danger they were in so strongly she could taste the bitterness of it on her tongue. Instinct and that voice inside her head screamed out a warning. If she couldn’t think of some way to escape, they would die tonight. Her arms were bound too securely at her sides, but she could bend her wrists and feel along the bottom rope. Finding a knot, she blindly dug her nails in trying to get it loose.

“They’re coming,” whispered Nadia.

One of her nails broke, but Danielle kept working at it when she looked up. It loosened a little, the give she felt enforcing her determination. “Feel for knots,” she said.

“How? I can’t move my arms.”

“Bend your wrists and feel,” Danielle instructed.

“Oh! I found one,” said Nadia with quiet enthusiasm.

They kept working until the witches got close enough she feared they would see what they were doing, and she stopped. A quick glance in Nadia’s direction told her Nadia had as well.

“Hello, my darlings,” said the pretty brunette witch.

It really bugged her that she didn’t know any of their names, so she asked, feigning a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Who are you?”

The brunette laughed, and the sound was so beautiful Danielle hated her for it. But just as suddenly, the mirth dropped from her face and she held Danielle’s gaze with hers as she withdrew the knife. Feeling her eyes widen, they followed the length of the curved blade that was polished to a perfect shine and looked extremely sharp. Danielle gulped.

“I’ll explain,” cooed the redhead. “Because I love seeing the fear in their eyes when I do.”

The words, “their eyes” lingered in her thoughts as she considered the meaning. Apparently this was something these witches did a lot of. Kidnapping women, and threatening them with knives on the full moon, with a nice fire to warm them, and all done right in the backyard.
Perfect
, she thought sarcastically.

Hearing the shuddering breath that escaped Nadia, Danielle turned to look at her friend. Cold steel connected with the edge of her jaw and she was forced to look at the witch again. “I need your full attention, Danielle.”

Apparently the witches knew who they were too. “Are you giving us to the werewolves?”

The question earned her some more of that pretty laughing. The blade pressed harder and she sucked in a breath of air fearing she was about to have her throat cut.

“Not yet, darling Red.” At the blonde’s words, the knife finally left her skin and the air that she’d been holding whooshed out. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure everyone could hear it. Again she swallowed. It was not lost on her that the blonde had not said the redhead’s name. Why didn’t the witches want them to know their names?

“Right,” murmured the redhead. Turning back to Danielle she said, “You’re here for our benefit, not those filthy beasts.” With a toss of her head, the witch sent long strands of red shiny tresses gliding over her shoulder. “Now, as I was saying…. You may find it interesting to know that we’ve lived here for centuries.”

On a gasp, Nadia said, “But you’re mortal?”

A grin that flashed pearly white teeth turned on Nadia. “How observant of you. The truth is, we witches can live forever thanks to three family heirlooms. Our ancestor, Helga, wrote most of the enchantments contained in our book. Our favorite spell, and the one we will use on you tonight, is her most powerful incantation.” Red scraped the edge of the blade she held along the ropes binding them as she took a breath. “Wishing to be more beautiful than the lovely Gemma, she captured her, bound her, and while chanting the words of the spell, she killed her with the same dagger I now hold. When she did this, she discovered that not only was she able to draw Gemma’s beauty into herself, but the remaining years of her life as well. As she continued performing this ritual on other village beauties, she was able to extend the length of her life and magnify her beauty so that she was the fairest in the land. Our spell book, paired with these daggers, holds a power most covens don’t have.”

The witch hadn’t said where Helga was now, and Danielle figured she’d probably never know. Her gaze snagged on the knife held by the brunette and a horrible realization formed in her mind. The fairies had been wrong, the pixies hadn’t wanted to eat them for the vampire blood they thought was inside them, but, she now knew, with her stomach sinking down to her toes, the witches did want to consume some part them. It may not have been their flesh, but their essence and life-force instead.

Red caressed Danielle’s face with cold fingers. “You, having been a vampire before, and having cured the first vampire of the curse, could give us immortality and the curse-like beauty of vampires—”

“I’m not a vampire anymore and I don’t think—”

“We’ll take the risk. If we’re wrong,” Red’s hungry eyes touched onto hers, “we’ll still gain a nice dose of beauty and an extension to the years of our lives.”

Of course, Danielle hadn’t expected the witches to put their knives away as they turned to their friends. “Shall we begin?”

An owl hooted and the brunette’s eyes wandered to the moon just before darting around nervously as the witches linked hands. Danielle’s eyes narrowed. Was she afraid of the werewolves? Were they all afraid of them? While the creatures terrified her too, a seed of hope sprouted in her heart. If the werewolves managed to interrupt this party, she might be able to get this knot loose and they could escape while the magical beings fought over their possession of her and Nadia.

An exquisite melody rose from their mouths and a murderous smile parted Red’s blood-red lips. Even that horrible expression was pretty on her. Why did they think they needed more beauty when they were already the most gorgeous women she’d ever seen?
Bloody hell
, she thought, going for one of Ethan’s favorite curses.  How many woman had they murdered over the years? The idea was so distressing she wanted to weep for so many lost souls, but instead turned the terrible thoughts into a mentally expressed prayer for help.
Please don’t let me die like this. Please don’t let my friend die like this....

The witches’ long hair trailed behind them like rich-colored bands of silk, the firelight caressing the edges, making it shine. Her gaze touched on each one of their faces. Each one had closed her eyes as she sang and pranced gracefully around her and Nadia, their fringe of thick lashes shadowing their rosy cheeks. Distracted as they were, Danielle began working on the knot again. After shifting her eyes in Nadia’s direction, she was able to see that Nadia was doing the same. Her biggest concern now was that even if they did manage to get loose, the witches would probably use their magic on them again and they wouldn’t likely get away.