To Wrangle A Witch (Southern Sanctuary Book 3) (14 page)

Chapter
Seventeen

Locke
crouched by the sofa, running a hand over its surface for what must have been
the twentieth time.  The material was pristine; it even smelt crisp and
fresh.  Yet last night he could have sworn that half an extra crispy
freeze dried sucker had marred its perfection.  And his floorboards? 
Where were the scratches?  The scruff marks?  The clods of dirt and
muck tracked through his house by the elite musclemen? 

Earlier
after filling in Serena on all the news from Chippendale Central he’d retreated
to his room for a long hot shower and scrub down with the most expensive
Italian anti-bacterial body wash that was legally allowed to be sold on the
open market.  Refreshed, clean and clad in an Eton white shirt and
charcoal grey Alexander Amosu trousers and matching waistcoat, he’d kept it
decidedly casual and had gone with the black Gucci loafers and no tie,
positively lackadaisical in his books. 

Hitting
the kitchen he’d arranged a feast fit for a princess, after sliding the tray of
meat and vegetables into the oven to roast he’d contemplated his immaculate
kitchen with pride.  Cleaning as you cooked was the secret.  That’s
when he’d recalled the mess left behind in his living room the previous
evening.  Goddess, he must have been more seriously injured than he’d
thought to only be recalling that now.  Taking several deep breaths he’d
straightened his spine and had gone to inspect the extent of the damage… except
there was no damage.  No marks, no dirt, no debris, no stains, no smells,
no scuffs, no… nothing. 

“Did
I miss something?”

He
turned abruptly from his examination of the sofa to find Serena behind him
looking gorgeous in a hot pink strapless sundress, her hair twisted up into a
messy bun, and best of all she was barefoot.  Goddess he adored those toes
of hers. 

“Well?” 
Big pansy eyes were full of concern. 

What
had he been doing before she arrived?  Oh right.  He gestured towards
the sofa and the floor.  “You did this?  You cleaned up after last
night?”

“Well
yes, I hope that’s alright.  With my natural affinity for earth it didn’t
take long to get everything back to the way it was.”

He
contemplated dropping to his knees and begging for her hand in marriage right then
and there.  Goddess, get a hold of yourself man.  No doubt he’d
frighten her… just like he was beginning to frighten himself.  “Nice job…
thanks.  Drink?”  Goddess knows he needed one.

“Ummm,
sure.”  She followed him through to the kitchen.  “Something smells
nice.”

“Roast
lamb and vegetables.”  He poured her a generous glass of white wine and
then one for himself.  “You look… rested.  Everything’s okay now,
right?  With the garden and everything?”

She
looked over her shoulder as the first hints of sunset turned the garden
courtyard into an orange and red hazy mirage. It looked gorgeous out there,
peaceful, enticing.  She closed her eyes and breathed in, sensing no sign
of any lingering taint or damage.  Her toes practically twitched to be out
there as the warm evening breeze flowed through the open retracted doors to
caress her skin.  “Perfect.”  She beamed a smile of thanks his way.

Goddess,
Locke closed his eyes and swallowed down half his glass of wine.  The
woman had to stop looking at him with those admiring pansy coloured eyes. 
If she didn’t they might well be testing out how structurally sound the kitchen
bench was for lovemaking… and bugger the mess. 

His
mobile buzzed loudly in his pocket.  Taking it out he gave it a quick
glance, then closed it, only for it to buzz a second time and then a third.

“Maybe
you’d better get that.”  Serena smiled his way.  I’ll take my wine
outside and give you some privacy.”

It
was all Locke could do to nod and smile between gritted teeth as she sashayed outside,
whoa that pink dress dipped low in the back.  Absently he pressed the
connect button.  “What?” 

Ten
minutes later Locke still wasn’t sure how his plans for the evening could have
gone so seriously wrong so fucking quickly.  Whilst he was caught on the
phone doing his best to soothe his increasingly nervous client his cousin
Declan had shown up.  Given him a brief wave of greeting before promptly
sauntering his tight jean wearing perfect ass outside to join Serena in the
garden as the last rays of the setting sun worked their magic on the night
sky. 

Great,
now he had to sit there and witness Serena fawn all over his cousin’s
ridiculously honed physique.  Goddess seriously, what else could go wrong
with his plans for an intimate dinner for just him and Serena?
 
He’d only just completed that thought when there
sounded the click clack of high heels from the hallway, seconds later his
cousin Darcy strode into view.  There you go Valhalla, he mentally kicked
himself, you tempted fate and she bitch slapped you one right in the
kisser.  He hit the mute button.  “What are you doing here?”

Darcy
waved him off with a graceful wave of her arm.  “Don’t mind me.  I’ll
fix myself a drink whilst you finish up.”

Locke
glared at her as she strode away in search of a glass.  Hurriedly he hit
the sound button, made promises to his client that he had no intention of
keeping before abruptly disconnecting the call.  If he had to have a
conversation with Darcy then he wanted no distractions. 

She
sauntered back into the living room, a small knowing smile playing on her lips,
her blue eyes – serial killer blue – missing nothing, scoping out immediately
his lack of tie and casual footwear.  With her black bobbed Louise Brooks
hair and thigh high yellow vinyl boots, black plaid mini skirt and midriff
baring yellow short sleeved cardigan his cousin looked like she’d been styled
by Quentin Tarantino.  All that was missing was a mace or a samurai
sword.  Though knowing Darcy as he did, he suspected she had one, if not
more sharp implements hidden about her person.  Hard as that was for some
people to believe considering the amount of flesh she had on show. 

Plonking
herself down on the couch opposite she turned and surveyed the scene out in the
garden.
 
“So that’s your wicked little
witch?”

“She’s
just a guest in my home Darcy, she’s not my anything.”

Darcy’s
fine dark eyebrow quirked briefly, those blue eyes brimming with
amusement.  “Perhaps you’re right.  If anything she seems to be
Declan’s new… amour.”

“She’s
not interested in Declan.”  Locke was pretty sure that was right. 
Serena wouldn’t have returned his kiss like she had today in the garden if
she’d been pining for Dec.

“She
has eyes doesn’t she?  So Casanova has made another conquest.” 
Darcy’s scornful blue eyes appraised the scene out in the garden.  “I
swear to the Goddess that man gets better looking every day.  You have no
idea the number of complaints, whining, wailing, rending of hair and tearful
confessions I have to listen to on a daily basis just because Heathcliff out
there can’t keep a lid on his pheromones levels or whatever it is he uses to
lure in all those poor deluded women.”

Locke
was about to protest further when like a train wreck outside he watched Serena
lean into Declan, laugh and playfully punch him on the arm.  Why no
married man had yet to kill Declan was a mystery not yet fully understood by
Locke.  “You’re here because of Serena?”

Darcy
sipped her wine.  “She’s bought a boat load of problems with her Locke.”

“Are
you saying she can’t stay?”

“Don’t
put words in my mouth cousin.  What I’m saying is that you and Hadleigh
should have notified me the moment it was decided the witch with the vampire
assassin contract out on her tiny ass should seek refuge here at the Sanctuary.”

“In
our defence it was Vaughn who made the executive decision.”  Locke felt no
compunctions about throwing his beefcake brother-in-law into Darcy’s line of
fire.

“Hmmm,
something is wrong with this picture.  You following Vaughn’s lead? 
What does he have on you?” 

“Nothing.”

“Did
he threaten you?”

“Only
with the suggestion that he might inform my father I was failing to live up to
my warrior heritage.”

Darcy
nodded, the ends of her hair brushing against her high cheekbones.  “Yeah
I suppose that would do it.  Well I hope you're charging him time and
half?”

“Better,
he’ll owe me.”

Darcy
smiled evilly in contemplation.  “Oooh, that has all kinds of
potential.” 

“Hey,
get your own trump card.”

Darcy
sent him an absent smile, her attention shifting around the room.  In fact
from the moment she’d arrived she’d been more on edge than Locke had seen her
for a while, okay so yes, Darcy was always kind of tense and hyper vigilant,
but there was something about her body language now that reminded him of when
she was actively tracking down prey… everything about her screamed she was on
the hunt.

“You’re
not here just because of the vampires and Serena are you?”

Darcy
shrugged, widening her blue eyes going for innocence yet only succeeding in
looking like she was thinking of knifing him and stealing all his
valuables.  “Why else would I be here?”

Locke
studied her hard.  “Not an outright lie but evasive… come on Darcy, you
usually try harder than that to fool me.  What has you so rattled?”

“I’m
looking for Nate.”

“Those
Chippendales all look alike to me.  Which one is he again?”

“The
one who gives Pepe Le Pew out there a run for his money… thinks he’s Maat’s
gift to all womankind.”

Locke
continued to come up blank.

Darcy
issued a small sigh.  “The one who showers Hadleigh with compliments all
the time.”

“That
one!  He must have a death wish or something.”

“According
to him, spending time with Hadleigh has improved his reflexes exponentially…
which must be true since I haven’t seen him sporting any black eyes recently.”

Locke
couldn’t keep the grin off his face.  “Are you a little smitten?”

Darcy
gave Locke the coldest look she had in her repertoire, the grin instantly
disappearing off his face. 

“Whoa,
you can’t kill him Darc, Maat wouldn’t like it for one…”

“I’m
not going to kill him.”  Darcy huffed out.  Goddess, get a tiny
little reputation as an unstable psychotic killer and everyone always assumes
the very worst of you.  “I’m just looking for him to answer some questions
I have.  The man has proven beyond frustrating to track down.”

“High
praise coming from you.  Why don’t you just set one of your ultra-sneaky
traps for him?”

“You
don’t think I haven’t tried that already?  The man takes luck to a whole
new level.  I even bought out the big guns and sicked Charisse on him at
Hadleigh and Vaughn’s meld party.  It didn’t take.”

Locke
almost spat out his mouthful of wine in shocked surprise.  “Excuse
me?  Most men have to be scooped off the floor after Charisse does little
more than say hello and you’re telling me he just walked away?” 

“Not
just that, Charisse was the one who looked a little dazed after the
encounter.”

“Are
you sure she tapped fully into her power?  Maybe she only went half-assed,
too scared she might suck his soul dry or some such Siren nonsense.”

“It
took me a while but I finally got her to admit that she went the whole hog and
sang to him.”

Locke
was literally speechless. 

Darcy
met his shocked look and nodded.  “I know.  I think she was kind of
embarrassed by it.  Humming… sure, we’ve all been on the receiving end of
that…”

Locke
shuddered at the memory of Charisse’s compulsive voice, she’d once convinced
him to wear polyester pants, the horror.  “But to sing?  And you said
he walked away?”

“They
danced, they talked… she sang… and as far and I can tell he brushed it off like
it was no more important than a mosquito buzzing around his ear.”

“Impressive
indeed.  Most men are barely coherent after the humming… but to hear her
sing and not melt into a love slave at her feet.  I’m family… I have some
inherent shields against her but most men… even immortals… so what info does
Nate have that’s so important?”  In his lifetime Locke was unsure whether
he’d ever seen Darcy blush and avert her gaze in embarrassment, would wonders
never cease.  “Now you’re really starting to worry me.”

“It’s
personal okay.”

“Not
if you’re dragging Charisse into this mess it’s not, you’ve made it family
business.”

“I…
he… look, it’s like this, according to Nate I’m marked.”

“By
what?”

“From
what little Hadleigh has been able to pry out of Nate over the last few months,
the question should be, by whom?”

“Someone’s
marked you?”  Locke shook his head in bemusement. Taking a deep breath he
focused all his attention on his cousin.  “Okay let me see what I can
get.”   After barely ten seconds he shook his head in frustration.