Witchful Thinking (29 page)

No, Sinjin isn’t truly in love with me but there is something he wants from me … Is it just power, glory, control? Maybe all of the above?

Back to last night. I’ve never really seen Sinjin angry before, and that side of him freaks me out. He’s usually the cool, calm, and collected sexy vampire with a smartass quip for just about everything. But last night he was none of those things. His anger was combustible and so … unlike Sinjin. And that thought leads me to my next: What is Sinjin really like? Maybe the image he shows all of us is completely opposite the person he really is. Why would he be hiding behind a façade, though?

And I still have no idea what his intentions are or what his agenda is. The fact that I have no clue bothers me—probably more so than it did before. I don’t like having a wild card in my kingdom. As the Queen, it’s my responsibility to weed out threats and extinguish them. And while I don’t and never would believe that Sinjin is a threat to me or my realm, the fact that I don’t know what his end goal is or what he wants is, in itself, a threat
.

I believe there is an answer. And I believe that answer resides in Mercedes. What does Sinjin want from the prophetess? Why the secrecy between the two of them? As Queen, it is my responsibility to make sure they’re on the up-and-up. I’ve got to think beyond myself now, I have to represent the interests of my people … And that is just what I intend to do
.

The other day Christa mentioned in passing that she’d seen Mercedes and Sinjin in a heated argument on the beach just below Kinloch. Even she said she thought their acquaintance odd because she couldn’t imagine why (and neither can I, for that matter) Mercedes would have anything to do with Sinjin. Yes, Sinjin could be plotting something and might need Mercedes’ assistance, but why would Mercedes have anything to do
with him? It’s not like she needs Sinjin—she’s the prophetess, for God’s sake! Unless … could it be that my prophetess and my bodyguard are having an affair?

I feel silly even saying it because it’s not like dating isn’t allowed among my subjects. I would never fault them for being together or force them to separate. I mean, I don’t like the idea of it at all because … I don’t know why (well, I probably do but just don’t want to admit it)
.

The more I think about it, though, the more implausible it seems. Would Mercedes really put up with Sinjin? I can’t imagine that she would. Mercedes is too strong, too smart, and too powerful to have anything to do with him—especially not when he so openly flirts with Klaasje. And speaking of Klaasje and Sinjin, I can’t help but wonder what the nature of their relationship is
.

This is silly—I’ll just drive myself crazy thinking about the what-ifs. And furthermore, none of this (as in the personal-relationships aspect) should bother me because I’ve got a new focus for my life, Diary. I don’t know that I’ve told you, but I’ve sworn off men yet again. Yes, there was a short time a few months ago when I swore off anything with a penis but I guess I wasn’t wholehearted in my approach. Well, I am now. I’m wholehearted, decided, absolute, and final in my decision
.

I am going to focus all my energies, all my attentions on my kingdom, and I’m going to become the best Queen I can be
.

Who knows, maybe I’ll even end up on the cover of a Wheaties box someday
.

I put my journal down and decided to get some fresh air. I hadn’t been able to sleep all night, not after the scene with Bella. Now the dawn was just stretching her fingers across the moors of Kinloch Kirk. The sea crashed against the rocks below my window, beckoning
me to listen to the songs of the thrushes, to watch the puffins make their homes in the rocks and just be grateful for being alive.

I stood up and—glancing down at my sweats and T-shirt—decided it was too cold outside for my current garb, so I grabbed my down jacket. Scotland was much colder than England, since it was so far north, and it was even colder living along the coast. I closed my bedroom door behind me and immediately noticed the two werewolf guards posted just outside my door. Both of them eyed me suspiciously. I just smiled.

“I’m going for a walk,” I said simply and started forward as they immediately fell into step behind me.

Glancing back at them, I shook my head. “I’m going alone.”

The first guard, a burly guy of maybe thirty with blond hair, eyebrows, and lashes, vehemently shook his head. “Majesty, your safety is our priority.”

So they were going to make me do this the hard way, were they? I just smiled and imagined a burst of light consuming both of them, starting from the center of their bodies and working its way outward until it encompassed them entirely. Then I thought the words:
You do not see me and believe me to be inside my room. When I return from my walk, this charm will be shattered
.

As soon as I’d thought the last word, they returned to their post just outside my door and resumed whatever conversation they’d been having prior to my entrance. Ah, it was good to be a witch.

I faced the staircase and continued forward, silently appreciating the fact that no one aside from my guards was awake at this early hour, not even the house staff. My vampires were asleep in their special rooms in the basement of Kinloch Kirk, safe from the marauding sunlight. Everyone who’d attended the meeting last night
had spent the night at Kinloch, in its multiple guest rooms. Now it appeared that they were still cradled in the arms of slumber. And that suited me fine. When your life was no longer your own, there was something to be said about sharing the early morning with no one but the ocean, the moors, and a few birds.

I hurried down the stairs and exited the double front doors, taking a deep breath of crisp North Sea air. A cold breeze whipped through the Scottish moors on either side of me, causing the heather to shimmy and flutter. A few of the bell-like purple flowers freed themselves to dance with the breeze and tumble over the cliffs, only to be swallowed up by the gyrating sea.

And I suddenly had the horrible thought, the unrealistic anxiety of wondering if I, too, would end up like those little balls of purple flowers: caught up in the winds of monarchy, forced to dedicate my life to something that might eventually come crashing down around me—something that might drown me in the waters of responsibility.

What if I couldn’t be the monarch everyone expected me to be? Or what if Bella’s soldiers ended up rebelling against us? What if truth serums and loyalty oaths weren’t enough? Worse, what if the Lurkers decimated us? What if I couldn’t protect my kingdom, dooming it and everyone within it to a miserable death?

“Why are you awake so early?”

I nearly lost my footing and had to stabilize myself against the balustrade of the path that led to the beach below Kinloch Kirk. I glanced in the direction of Rand’s voice and found him standing on the shore just below me.

“I could ask the same of you,” I answered, still clutching the balustrade as I slowly made my way down the perilous path, hoping I wouldn’t slip on the sand-covered wooden steps.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Glancing down at him, I could see the truth of his words in the dark circles beneath his eyes. His messy hair was mute testimony to the fact that he’d been tossing and turning. Well, join the club.

I reached the beach and decided to take off my shoes—no use in filling them with sand. I unlaced both sneakers and stood up again, balancing on one foot while I attempted to free my heel with the other one. “That makes two of us.”

Rand nodded and took a seat on a nearby rock, regarding me with a smile that seemed strange—amused maybe. “May I join you?”

After removing both shoes, I tossed them at the base of the steps leading back up the cliff and nodded, wondering why in the hell he wanted to accompany me and further, what in the hell we were going to talk about. There were so many elephants between us, I was afraid they’d stomp one another to death.

I didn’t say anything, though. I just watched Rand slip off his leather shoes and stack them neatly beside mine, which lay across the landing beneath the pathway, a sock peeking out from one sneaker, the other sock unaccounted for. And that was us to a T—Rand was orderly and disciplined and I was the one who threw my shoes aside, not caring if I lost a sock along the way or if I tracked a bunch of sand into the house.

“Interesting meeting last night,” Rand said once we’d started walking.

“Yeah, you’re telling me. I wonder if we’re ever going to get Bella to come through now. Damn Sinjin …”

Rand nodded and bent down, retrieving a piece of what looked like sea glass. It was baby blue. He rotated it in the palm of his hand before throwing it curveball style so it skipped off the water a few times before disappearing beneath the surf.

“He was hard on her, strangely so.”

There were a few seconds of silence in which the crashing of the waves against the beach seemed louder than I’d ever remembered it and the shrill calling of the blackbirds had more in common with the song of the harpies than any songbird I could think of.

“Rand, why are we doing this?” I asked as my feet stopped and my toes seemed to grow roots into the sand.

Rand blinked in surprise. “Doing what?”

I shrugged. “Why did you want to walk with me? If you were just asking to be polite, I think we’re beyond that now.” There was a part of me that wasn’t interested in small talk—a part of me that didn’t have time to play games with Rand anymore—a part of me that wanted to just cut away the fluff in order to get to the truth.

He nodded and ran his hand through his hair but said nothing.

“And why have you stopped shaving?” I added, wondering why the hell his facial hair suddenly mattered to me.

He touched his chin as if he wasn’t aware that there was more than a few days of stubble and faced me with tired eyes. “I suppose I forget daily activities when I’m absorbed in my thoughts.”

As soon as he finished the statement, the rough, dark brown hairs on his chin, cheeks, and upper lip began to recede into his beautifully tanned skin and the roguish Rand I’d actually begun to appreciate was replaced with the model-perfect one I knew so well.

“And I’m not just being polite,” he added. He started walking again, so I took his lead. “That is to say, I wanted the pleasure of your company.”

“Why?” I demanded.

He cleared his throat and appeared altogether uncomfortable, his gaze riveted on the sand. He lifted his face
and turned toward me. “Because I care deeply for you, Jolie.”

I sighed and was suddenly grateful for the fact that we hadn’t decided to take a stroll beside the cliffs of Kinloch Kirk; I probably would have pushed him over by now. Rand was frustration wrapped in a nice little package, tied together with stubbornness.

“I thought you were still mad at me about the whole bonding situation,” I said in a hard voice. I was tired of beating around the proverbial bush. There would be no more bushes in my life—I was going to pull out my cutters and turn those out-of-control shrubs into manageable topiaries.

“You know me very well by now, Jolie.” He glanced at me earnestly as he stopped walking. I stopped as well and a small ocean wave wrapped around my ankles, the frosty foam pricking my skin with its salty coldness.

“I think I do but sometimes you still throw me for a loop,” I said, feeling like I might drown in the chocolate oceans of his eyes, so I focused instead on the sea itself.

“Well, I’m certain you are well aware of the way in which I tend to overanalyze most things and how … cerebral I am.”

I glanced at him again. “Yes, Rand, I’m well aware of all your shortcomings.”

He chuckled and looked out at the ocean thoughtfully before returning his gaze to me. “What I am trying to tell you is that my anger over you not telling me you were my bond mate has since abated.”

“So you’ve forgiven me?”

He nodded. “Yes and not only that, but I am … thankful to know that you always have been the only woman in my life.”

“What?” I asked, at a complete loss, feeling my eyebrows knitting together. A queasiness of something that felt like irritation crept up my gut and took a firm hold
of my stomach. “I just decided to be the Virgin Queen and you’re telling me this now?”

Rand frowned at me in confusion. “The Virgin Queen—as in Queen Elizabeth?”

I shook my head, wishing some of my thoughts wouldn’t verbalize themselves—I’d intended to only think that one. Whatever. “Never mind that,” I snapped. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“That I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.”

“Okay,” I said and started walking again, shaking my head over the fact that men were so frustrating. It had to be true that men and women were from completely different planets, different galaxies even. It was like Rand’s train would always leave the station as soon as I arrived—a classic case of bad timing.

Suddenly remembering Rand’s bizarre reaction to my first speech from the Green Room, I faced him again. “And what the hell were you talking about when you said that things will be different between us now that I’m Queen?”

He nodded, as if he were remembering the conversation himself. “There will be … other obligations on you now, Jolie.” He took a deep breath. “As Queen, you will be expected to unite our species,” he finished as if that were news.

I felt irritation and impatience eating away at me. I’d wanted to take a walk this morning to clear my head, to enjoy some time to myself, and now I had to deal with this … “Yes, Rand, I’m well aware of what is expected of me. That was in the job description Mercedes gave me.”

“It goes further than that,” Rand said. There was a little attitude to his tone, like he didn’t appreciate the fact that I was being short and sarcastic with him. Well, I hadn’t liked the way he’d reacted to the news of our bonding, so I guess we were tied.

“How does it go further than that?”

“You will be expected to make an advantageous marriage, and it won’t be for love,” he finished angrily. I wasn’t sure if he was annoyed with me or with the subject.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” I demanded, realizing I sounded just like him.