Szereto, Mellanie - Two Pirates to Treasure [Bewitching Desires 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (12 page)

Ethan resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands and rub at the tightness in his forehead. “We can’t explain our motives right now, Orshy, but we will. Soon, I promise. Why are you here? Romána told everyone to stay close to the mansion. You shouldn’t be here.”

She opened her mouth, but then she closed it as if she’d changed her mind about speaking. Shaking her head, she turned away. “Your motive is clear. I was the means to a malicious end.”

A flash of movement drew Ethan’s attention away from her and to a barely visible dark cloak beyond the fence.
Kazmer
. He’d found the signs and acted quicker than Ethan or Grant had anticipated. They had no choice but to perform their duty now. The Fates had set their own plot into motion, destroying a well-constructed scheme of events. Even if he and Grant succeeded in the first step, they had no chance of carrying out the remainder of their plan. He swallowed past the lump in his throat.
And this is how it comes to pass.

Focusing his thoughts on joining his mind with Grant’s, he imagined a fracture in the invisible wall surrounding the Macska estate. The fence blurred for a moment and then cleared. A burst of echoing laughter rang through the trees, and a bolt of lightning speared downward from the top of the fence to strike the tree closest to Orshy. The trunk split in two, the halves falling in opposite directions, one narrowly missing her.

Ethan’s heart jumped to his throat. Kazmer didn’t have the power to directly hurt anyone, but she could easily have been crushed by the damage he’d caused. Death was death, no matter the method.

She huddled behind the fallen tree and locked gazes with him. Contempt, hurt, and anger surged into his chest from the look. As she swept her arm out from her body, a palpable billow of energy threw him to the ground, knocking the air from his lungs. He gasped for breath and tried to stand, but his muscles refused to cooperate. Grant lay beside him, also seeming to struggle to rise.

A strange glow appeared around her as she pushed to her feet and faced the edge of the Macska property. Just beyond the fence, the gnarled old man from the
Whydah Galley
came into focus. She raised her arms, and a growling scream issued from her, hinting at the emotion behind the sudden flow of power from her fingertips.

The sensation of fire racing over his skin had Ethan rolling on the damp forest floor in agony. Grant groaned as he did the same. A howl came from the direction of Kazmer, and a cannon-like boom echoed through the air, shaking the leaves on the trees. Several minutes of absolute silence followed.

Levering up on his elbows, Ethan scanned the area where the intruder had been standing. It was empty—only marked by a smoldering spot on the ground. Orshy sat upon one half of the split trunk, her whole body trembling.

He forced himself to his feet, giving Grant a hand up when he gained his balance. They shuffled toward her, with Ethan steeling himself against the ache in his lower back and the fiery sting still creeping over every inch of him.

“Leave me. Just go.” Her broken whisper carried to his ears. She rose, her skirt whipping around her ankles as she ran away from them, through the trees and toward the stable. Her braid unwound, sending wisps of ebony hair flowing behind her.

She crossed the open meadow and disappeared past the paddock, every step widening the emotional distance between them. Despair washed over Ethan. She’d begged Grant and him over and over not to go, and now she’d changed her mind. They had no choice but to carry out her wishes. That she didn’t know the motivation of their actions didn’t matter. Until they’d completed their task, secrecy had been of vital importance.

Such was the life of a Protector. More than three-quarters sacrificed their lives providing others with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to destroy one of the malevolent elders of the Black Triad. Of the survivors, another three-quarters spent the remainder of their lives isolated from the witch families they’d been destined to protect. Only a few had received thanks of any kind, and in a thousand years, less than a handful had found happiness with his chosen one. No pair of Protectors had shared the witch destined for greatness in the clan they’d been designated to protect. He and Grant had survived, but to what end?

Lowering himself to the split trunk, Grant kicked at the damp earth. “We cannot leave until we receive a message that we are absolved of our responsibility, but I don’t believe we’ll be welcome in the mansion. Let us retire to the stable for a much-needed rest. I am weary, and Orshy is safe.”

Ethan rubbed his arm, trying to ease the prickly sensation still coursing through his skin. “Kazmer lives. She damaged him, but he will heal himself and strike again. We must tell the matriarch before all else.”

Grant nodded. He pushed up from the fallen tree and limped alongside Ethan, past the tree line to the grassy area between the woods and the stable. They trudged toward the barn one slow step at a time without speaking. No words could possibly relate the utter loss in Ethan’s soul.

As he slowed at the paddock fence, a hawk alit on a post several strides in front of them, giving a single shrill call before spreading its wings and taking off again. It circled over them, shrieking half a dozen times, and then it winged away into the sky.

With a relieved sigh, he leaned against the top rail of the fence. “I’ll not question why we are told to stay on as Orshy’s Protectors. That we may inform her of our duty won’t change our past secrecy, but we have reason not to leave her now. To see only to her safety is more palatable than no connection.”

“She won’t like it.” A clap of thunder made them both start, and the darkening clouds overhead let loose with a sudden downpour. Grant groaned and raised his voice. “We must make amends, or suffer the weather that matches her mood.”

The pattern of sun and rainstorms over the past week had followed Orshy’s disposition far too closely to be coincidence. As an Elemental witch, she was linked to nature even more so than the Macskas.

Wiping at the water dripping in his eyes, Ethan ducked between the paddock railings to head for the barn door. “We must ask Romána whether we’ll be permitted to remain in residence. She may prefer to move our sleeping quarters to one of the outbuildings.”

“You will be staying in a larger suite on the second floor of the south wing.” The elder of the Macska clan stepped out into the wide entrance leading out of the stable into the paddock. Her slight build did nothing to diminish the aura of her authority and power. “Come inside the barn for now. We have much to discuss, Protectors.”

How did she know of their designation? No one was permitted access to that secret, especially those in the protected clan.

She narrowed her gaze and gestured for them to go inside. “We all have secrets.”

Chapter 11

Orsolya bit the inside of her cheek as she hurried up four flights of the rear steps from the kitchen to her room. With any luck, she wouldn’t see anyone on the way upstairs. The utter destruction of her heart wasn’t something she wanted to share on the day she was supposed to have joined with her mates.
Mates?
No, they were simply men who’d used her to further the death and destruction schemes of her family’s enemy.

Slamming the door to her suite behind her, she opted to throw herself on the couch rather than the tainted bed. She’d gulp down her snack and have a thorough cry. After that, she’d muster the courage to tell Great Grandmother about the trouble she’d caused by bringing a pair of masquerading pirates three hundred years into the future. The entire Macska family and the Order had been put at risk from her stupid hormones and ineptitude at spellcasting.

She plopped on the sofa and took a bite of her sandwich. A tear dribbled down her cheek, and she let it fall. Her stomach demanded she eat, even as her emotions insisted on an outlet. Sobbing didn’t take away the pain of being deceived by Ethan and Grant. Her inexperienced heart had fallen for their charade, and now it had to pay the price. The cost could be much higher than her heart if Great Grandmother couldn’t stop them from helping the ancient shifter who’d killed her parents and brother.

Why did I think the curse of castle could be broken by moving into a new home?
Sandor had found happiness with Rebeka, but he was the first success story in a long line of failed relationships and premature deaths. The odds of another member of their family achieving some level of contentment were slim. Hers had certainly been temporary, with a brutal dose of reality to remind her not to expect a happily ever after.

A light tapping at the door had her swiping at her cheeks as she swallowed the last soggy bite of her snack. She’d have the next several decades to mourn and feel sorry for herself. Time to do her duty.

She sucked in a shaky breath before slowly exhaling. “Come in.”

The door opened, revealing Jolán and Lujza. Jolán frowned. “Great Grandmother asked Lujza to...check something before the ceremony this evening. You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

They crossed them the room, settling on either side of her on the couch. Lujza wrapped her arm around Orsolya’s shoulder, tensing and then nodding.

Not sure where to begin, Orsolya looked down at her lap. “There isn’t going to be a ceremony tonight. I told Grant and Ethan to leave.”

Jolán gasped, drawing Orsolya’s eyes up to her friend’s face. “What happened?”

“They lied to me. I need to talk to Romána about it. Do you know if she’s in the main parlor?”

“I’m not sure.” Orsolya’s teacher shared a look with Lujza. “You should know something before you go. Cousin?”

Lujza huffed out a sigh. “This should’ve been good news, but now...I was supposed to touch you to see if you’re, um, pregnant, like all the Macska matings. You’ve been eating a lot the last few days, and your mood seems to change pretty quickly for someone who never raises her voice. Some of the aunts suggested you might be expecting.”

Orsolya’s head swam, and spots dotted her vision. She choked the word past the lump in her throat. “Pregnant? How could anyone know so quickly?”

With a nod, Lujza leaned back against a throw pillow, resting her hand on her rounded belly. “Witches tend to experience gestational symptoms much earlier than the average woman, almost immediately after conception. I have the ability to tell how many babies and who the father or fathers are, as well as whether or not a woman is in that state. You’re definitely pregnant.”

Dropping her face to her hands, Orsolya fought to breathe. She was going to give birth to a constant reminder of having been used by two fake pirates. “Which one?”

“Well, um, both of them. You’re pregnant with a daughter and a son. Evidently, you have more witch in you than anyone suspected. Ethan and Grant must be your true mates.”

“True mates? They can’t be! That would mean they have to love me, and I know they don’t. They tricked me into bringing them here.” A new wave of despair washed over her, and she got up to pace to the window. Water droplets on the glass distorted her view of the gardens below. “Besides, I’m not one of you.”

The blurry yellows and greens faded to the image of woods and a gnarled old man with piercing black eyes. Her fingers tingled at the memory. Pure energy had surged through her hands from some unknown source inside her, knocking her former lovers to the ground and penetrating Kazmer’s existence. Evil coursed through his veins. How she’d kept him from sending his essence into her through the connection, she had no idea. Fear hadn’t consumed her as she would’ve expected—only a furious blast of betrayal.

“You’re more like us than you think.” Lujza’s reflection appeared behind Orsolya in the window. “I also have a feeling you’re much stronger than most of us. I’ll find out where Great Grandmother is and tell her you’d like to speak with her.”

Orsolya nodded her thanks.

Jolán’s warm hand on Orsolya’s arm reinforced the assurance that she wasn’t alone. “You’ll always be welcome here, and the family will help you in whatever ways you need. Just ask.”

She listened as the door clicked closed, focusing on the bright splashes of color in the courtyard. Yellow forsythias. Red tulips. Green foliage. Two weeks ago, she’d succeeded at her first spell down there. Her teacher had introduced her to sexual knowledge that day. It had been the beginning of the end for her. What if—