Queen of The Hill (Knight Games) (4 page)

My insides twisted at her use of my name, again an unearned familiarity in her tone. “What exactly do you mean by ‘he promised himself’?” I asked.

“As my caretaker,” she said with a throaty laugh. “Once he was human, I planned to claim him as my own.”

My jaw dropped. I stared at her, waiting for the punch line. When she didn’t say anything else, I turned to Rick.

He shook his head and faced her head-on. “You misunderstood. I never promised to be your caretaker. I never promised anything beyond helping you manage your new territory.”

“And did you think you would do that as a human?” she snapped, voice rising in pitch.

“Yes,” Rick said firmly.

“Well then, we have a problem. I am owed a great debt.” Tabetha looked pissed.

“The contract is null, as the spell was not completed. I did not use it as intended,” Rick stated.

Tabetha’s perfectly shaped red lips pulled into a grimace and ripples of power blasted like sound waves from her body. Crocuses exploded from the ground, growing in fast forward. The atmosphere became warm enough that I was tempted to unzip my coat. But when the goddamn tree branches started to reach for us with their gnarled branch hands, I knew we were in trouble. We’d practically been transported to the dark forest in
Snow White
or the
Wizard of Oz
. It was freaking me out.

“Are you suggesting that I am owed nothing for my effort?” Tabetha seethed. “Are you going back on your word?” Her eyes burned into him. Worse, the look was familiar. Tabetha was a woman scorned. She had feelings for Rick.
Crap.

“I will return the remaining candle to you,” Rick said. This time he looked away from her when he spoke, as if he were ashamed. As if he recognized that he owed her something.

With a wave of her wand, Tabetha made it clear she did not accept his answer. She knocked Rick on his ass. Rick’s eyes bled to black, and his beast exploded from his skin. The winged creature Rick shifted into had the scaly body of a dragon with tufts of hair protruding from the points of his ears and between his scales. Shifted, he was big—T-rex big—with jaws that could swallow a human-sized creature whole. His mere presence was foreboding.

I assumed his change would be a conversation ender. I was wrong.

One twist of Tabetha’s wrist, and a blast of purple light hit Rick’s beast. By force, his beast transformed, his bones bending and snapping painfully until he was human again.

“Rick!” I ran to his side. He’d collapsed to the ground, shocked and disoriented by the quick change. What a bitch! Fine, Tabetha didn’t get the payment she expected for her magic, but she didn’t need to get violent about it. I stepped in front of Rick and pointed a finger at her. “You say my caretaker made an agreement with you regarding the candle and that the price was himself?”

She nodded. “I have a contract signed in his blood.”

Signed in blood! I glared at Rick. I desperately wanted an explanation, but now was not the time. “There’s been a mistake,” I said. “Rick had no right to make that agreement with you. As my caretaker, his soul is mine and not his to give.” I glanced at Rick, who gave me a ghost of a smile. “However, I also understand that you worked hard on the candle’s enchantment and deserve some compensation. What price would you consider suitable payment?”

She popped out her hip and shifted her jaw from side to side as she considered me. Finally, she avoided my question altogether. “Are you denying our agreement, Enrique? Are you denying that you begged me for release from your connection to her?” Tabetha’s shrill voice made the surrounding tree sprites clutch at the bases of their throats and leer at Rick in silent union.

He looked her directly in the eye. “It was a mistake.”

“Mistake or not, you are mine.” Power, thick and palpable, rolled off her skin. The trees swayed, reaching for our heads. A gnarled branch gripped my bicep, bark digging in. Another wrapped around Rick’s neck and squeezed. The tree sprites growled and closed in, wrestling Rick toward Tabetha. I tried to help him, but the goddamned forest restrained me. Pain tore through my ankle as a thorny vine sprouted from the earth and lassoed my calf.

That was it. This bitch had to go.

I reached for Nightshade with my one free hand. She wasn’t there.
Fuck.
I’d forgotten to strap on my blade after my nap. She was still in the corner of my bedroom. “You can’t have him,” I yelled. “He’s still
my
caretaker.”

She ignored me. Rick’s skin bubbled as the sprites dragged him toward her. Deep grooves formed in the dirt where his heels dug in. But Tabetha’s magic was keeping him from shifting, and the sprites overpowered him by sheer numbers.

Without really thinking about it, my fear and adrenaline took over. As it happened on the night of the solstice, when my magic saved me from Bathory’s vamps, the power came naturally, without an uttered word or any effort at all. The air sang to me, connecting to my will as if it were an extension of my body. Instinct and intuition took hold.

Wind and ice blew up between Rick and Tabetha, a hurricane of stinging snow and dropping temperatures. The tree sprites dropped Rick and sprinted for their trees, limbs sluggish. Rick staggered back toward me. With a little effort, I directed the storm to form a barrier between the two of us and Tabetha. Snow caked the ground, burying any sign of the warmth Tabetha had brought with her. The reaching limbs of the trees lost their animated properties and recoiled, falling back asleep in the dropping temperature. I rolled my shoulders, relieved to be free of their grip, then yanked my ankle from the dying thorns.

“Storm’s a-brewin’,” I said.

Tabetha narrowed her eyes at me. “Perhaps, sister, but I never did mind about the weather. You underestimate me, baby witch.” She raised her wand. A blast of heat plowed into me, dissolving my storm, the snow, and the cold. I cried out as my power was forced back into my chest. Rick jumped between us again and held up his hands to her, but Tabetha was just getting started.

A new branch of thorns wound up my leg, shredding what was left of my pants. I howled in pain as thorns wrapped around my waist, sliced through my jacket, and scored my skin. When the vine reached my neck, I tried to turn up the volume on my magic to spare my trachea. The winter storm responded but not before the vine took hold. Warm and wet flowed over my throat and down my chest. I reached up and dug my fingers in, gasping for air. The plant tightened.

“Stop,” Rick said. His eyes locked onto Tabetha’s. I watched something pass between them and my heart broke. The look had meaning. The look had history. “Please.”

“Do you give yourself to me?” Tabetha demanded, the power in her voice reverberating.

I strained to tell Rick no, but I couldn’t catch my breath. My wheezing gasps had stopped, and nothing but gagging sounds came from my efforts to breathe. Black spots danced in the corners of my vision. My lungs burned. I slumped against the vines, and the thorns dug in.

“Stay with me,” Rick said frantically, clawing at the vine around my neck. It was no use. Death was as close as a lover, and my magic was reduced to a faint and useless breeze.

And then, a miracle.

Thunder clapped above us—not my doing—and a sheet of lightning plowed into the ground near my feet. The vine retracted a fraction of an inch, and my lungs worked to pull in a trickle of oxygen. The earth shook violently, echoing the raging storm above and knocking Tabetha backward. Rick grabbed my shoulders to steady me, although he didn’t need to, the thorns held me up like barbed wire. With fear in his eyes, he looked at the sky above and the ground below. Rick was rattled. I’d never seen anything shake him like this.

A booming female voice said, “You do not have permission.” I could not place the source. It seemed to come from everything, every direction.

The thorny vine withdrew as if my blood were toxic, sinking into the ground from whence it came. I fell forward on hands and knees, wheezing as new air penetrated my pinched throat and filled my lungs. Rick’s hands were on me in an instant, his wrist thrust between my teeth. I drank quickly and willingly of his blood. As soon as I was well enough, I got to my feet.

“I am due blood!” Tabetha raged toward the thunderous sky.

Another lightning bolt landed between us.

With a pained sigh, she straightened herself and fixed me with a threatening glare. “It appears Mother wants you alive. Very well. An alternative price for a caretaker requires some thought. It will not be insignificant. Both of you will come to my home when I call you forth. I will tell you my price then.”

“Your home? No. A neutral location,” I rasped.

Her dark eyes flashed. “Mother may spare your life, but even she will not deny me my due, sister.”

I had nothing left. I could barely hold myself up, even after Rick’s blood. Tabetha wasn’t going to back down.

I nodded my acquiescence.

She sneered at Rick, her mouth twisting in disgust as if he repulsed her. With a flick of her wand, she dissolved into thin air, the overwhelming scent of roses lingering in her wake.

As soon as she was gone, I turned the full force of my stare on Rick. “Start. Talking.”

“T
abetha came to my aid in your absence. I couldn’t have managed our ward for so long on my own without her help,” Rick said. The snow began to fall again, this time on its own. My magic was spent, and my chest ached.

“In my absence?”

“After you died but before you returned. Twenty-two years is a long time.”

“When you say she
helped you
…” My mind immediately went to sex. Caretakers fed on sex and blood. “You told me you’d never had sex with anyone but me.”

He jerked back as if I’d struck him. “I did not have sex with Tabetha.”

“Then why did she look at you like that? You obviously have a history. The way she addressed you, it was almost possessive.”

“I can explain, but come. You need to sit down.” With a sweep of his hand, he suggested we return to my house, and I agreed. The snow descended in earnest, big fluffy flakes that collected on our hair and shoulders. I followed him across the street.

“As I was saying, Tabetha helped in your absence with particularly difficult cases. A caretaker’s magic is effective against the supernatural, but things become difficult when humans are involved. Some work requires a witch.”

“For example?”

“A demon possession near Manchester around a decade ago. Tabetha had to expel the demon so that my beast could sentence it to hell. I can’t separate the natural from the supernatural.”

“I see. So Tabetha helped you because, as Salem’s Witch, she’s the closest Hecate to our ward.”

“Not exactly. There was another—Polina, the Smugglers’ Notch Witch—but she refused me. She was reclusive and wouldn’t leave her ward. More recently, she’s gone missing entirely.”

“Missing?”

“Tabetha has been covering her territory for months. That was why she said she needed me, to manage Polina’s ward. At the time, Tabetha was sure she would be given permanent power over Polina’s realm.”

“Why permanent? Polina will come back, right? If the Vermont witch is dead, she’ll regenerate like I did.”

He shook his head, holding my door open for me.

I stripped off my torn winter clothes and flopped down on the floral sofa. I didn’t even bother attempting a seated position. I stretched across the cushions ragdoll-limbed and closed my eyes.

“Polina did not have a caretaker, which should have made her immortal, but unfortunately, even immortals can be neutralized.”

My eyes popped open. “Wait, wait, wait a minute.” I spread my hands in the air above my chest. “Explain. I thought most Hecates had caretakers.”

Just then, Poe flapped down the staircase, swooped around the banister, and landed on the kitchen island. “Caretakers are rare, Witcherella. Very few witches would give up their own immortality for the sake of another.”

I paused and let that sink in. During my first lifetime, when I’d put a piece of my soul into Rick, I’d made him immortal, but doing so had meant that my body would suffer death. Why had I done that instead of keeping the immortality for myself? Because I loved Rick and was afraid the angry mob that burned me at the stake would turn on him next. Only now did it occur to me that true love was unusual. Another witch might not split her soul to save her lover. Tabetha and Polina did not have caretakers. They were true immortals. They’d kept all their power for themselves.

“So Tabetha was an old friend and the acting witch of both territories. How does the candle come into play?”

“After I saw you with Logan, I went to see her. The times we’d worked together she proved a uniquely powerful witch. I told her you wished to dissolve your commitment to me. Who could blame you, Grateful? You are a new person. I thought I was doing the right thing by giving you a choice.”

As much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn’t. It was true. Before the candle, I’d felt trapped by my relationship with Rick. Choosing him in this life had made a difference to me. Still, I was furious. “I did
not
wish to dissolve our commitment,” I snapped. “You had no right claiming to know my feelings without talking to me first. Your jealousy almost cost you your soul.”

“I’m sorry.” Rick turned his head away. “I could not bear to see you in Logan’s arms.”

I held up my hand. “Do not make this about him or me. You could have faced me. We could have talked out our problems. Instead, you did something incredibly dumb and dangerous.”

He met my eyes and nodded his acceptance of my accusation.

“What happened next?”

“She agreed to help me.” Again, his eyes shifted. He was keeping something from me.

“It wasn’t that simple, was it?” I glanced at Poe, who quickly became obsessed with cleaning his feathers while clearly eavesdropping. Nice.

The muscles in Rick’s jaw clenched. “No.”

“Just tell me,” I said softly. “It’s done. All we can do is manage the consequences.”

“She kissed me.” The words tumbled over his lips all at once, as if he’d released them on one shaky breath. “The terms of her aid were wrapped in a proposition that I join her in Salem after I was free. True, she needed help managing her new territory, but the implication of her lips was that the partnership would go beyond business.”